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“Oh man, you say all the right things.”
“I’ve only gotten started. Ten million for the time we agree on once you move in.”
My breath seizes. “Ten million?”
He nods, then waits for my answer, his gaze roaming my face. As he anticipates an answer, I recognize discomfort. Corrado looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin. I can tell by the intense glare he’s giving me and the tightening of his jaw as well as the paling of his fingers as he grips his kneecaps hard.
By putting the ball in my court, he handed me control of the situation, and that makes him uncomfortable. For a man who owns every room he walks into, giving up control is a daring task.
I appreciate the gesture. Corrado’s generosity and honesty about what he wants from me make my resolve falter. I consider his offer, if only briefly. He wants an answer right now. If I accepted, I’d be lying. Maybe we could compromise?
“I can’t move in with you,” I say, “but I would like to date you.”
“I don’t date.”
“Okay, maybe you could ask me out for a cup of coffee.”
“That’s worse than a date.”
“Jesus, Corrado. It’s just coffee.”
He sighs, takes a strand of my hair again, sniffs, and smiles. “Ten million. Come live with me. Pretend you’re my wife.”
“I can’t live with you.”
He releases my hair. “Get out.”
I blink at the change in his demeanor.
Corrado gets up and opens the door. “Hank will take you home.”
18
WHEN IT CAN’T GET WORSE, IT DOES
MICHELA
At sixteen, my mom hitched rides from New York all the way down to California to deliver the happy news of her pregnancy to her boyfriend, a twenty-something college kid she spent the holidays with. He and a few of his buddies forced her into the back of an SUV and took her to Mexico, where he beat her up and threw her into a ditch, probably thinking she’d die there.
One thing about my mom? She’s tough.
She crawled to the nearest house, where the family living there took her in until she healed and could cross the border back into the US. Too afraid to tell anyone about what had happened to her or who the father was, she sought shelter with her parents. They gave her shelter, but kicked her out once her big belly started showing.
While living on the street, she met Jesse’s mom, Gail, who hustled for a living. The two became best friends and went through most of life’s hardships together until Gail gave up on life, leaving my mom alone.
That’s when the drinking got worse, when Mom stopped going to work, when things deteriorated further. Gordon’s arrest was the final straw.
Some days, I wonder what’s keeping Mom among us. Maybe me, though I doubt it. Gordon lit the fire in her eyes.
Nevertheless, in case I’m the person she’s hanging on to for dear life, I want to be here for her. That’s why I can’t move in with Corrado, and even if he asked, which he didn’t, I wouldn’t tell him the truth. Telling my sob story to someone richer than the man who donated the sperm to make me, someone who came from everything, feels like betraying my mom and everything she’s gone through.
The man who fathered us has no idea we exist, but Gordon and I know who he is. Hell, Gordon took his last name as a mockery.
Hank’s car pulls up in front of my building, and I walk toward Jesse, who’s just dismounting his bike. I haven’t seen him for months and now he’s here every night. It’s all very odd.
After a single look at me, he shakes his head. “Went out with your pimp?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t you have something better to do on a Saturday night than follow me?” I rise on my toes and peck his cheek.
