Two For the Show Read online

  Anger courses through my veins like poison. Delia is barely nineteen. I knew mother was sending her out, but I have always thought it was light stuff. The pretty girl on the arm kind of thing. I couldn’t believe she would pimp out her own flesh and blood.

  “Listen to me, Delia.” I move closer to her until she has to look at me. “I don’t want you sleeping with any of the men she makes you go out with. Do you understand?”

  “But if I don’t, they’ll complain to her and she’ll—”

  “No! You do not sleep with any of them, Delia. Never. And if they try to make you, you scream, you kick, you fight, you do whatever you need to do to get out of there. Do you understand?”

  Her eyes widen at me, then she nods.

  “Say it,” I insist. “I want to hear you say it.”

  “Okay, I won’t,” Delia eyes are glued to mine. “I won’t sleep with any of them. I promise.”

  I let out a breath. She is still looking at me with that frightened expression and I pull her into a hug.

  “I’m sorry for yelling,” I mumble. “I just... I don’t want you doing that.”

  Delia nods. “That makes two of us.”

  I try to calm down, but I am still shaking. Hatred for Cordelia pours through me so heavily that I feel sick. I need to get Delia out of there.

  Delia bites her lip as she pulls back. “She won’t like this.”

  “I know,” I say. “But what if you moved out?”

  “Huh?”

  “What if you lived with me?”

  Delia’s eyes widen for the second time in our conversation.

  “Live with you? Here?”

  I shrug. “Yeah. Why not?”

  Delia looks around my small apartment then back at me. “You would want me to live with you? Why?”

  “Why?” I repeat almost surprised that she would have to ask.

  She looks down at the comforter again. “I know you care about me and all. But we’re not even related. Why would you care that much?”

  My mouth falls open even as emotion fills my chest. Why would I care?

  “Because I don’t just care about you Delia,” I answer. “I love you. You are family to me. I watched you grow up right in front of me. I taught you how to read and how to ride a bicycle. I did your makeup for prom and helped you pick out a dress for graduation. When you first got your period, you didn’t go to Mother, you came to me. And when you get married and have kids, you can bet I am going to be there too.”

  I grab her hands. “I am in your life for the long-haul, Delia. And I want your life to be a beautiful one. But I am afraid that if you stay with Mother, she’ll never let you be what you want to be.”

  It is on the edge of my tongue to tell her. Dutch’s words are bouncing around in my head, echoing in my ear as if he was right beside me repeating them. But I don’t. I can’t.

  Delia leans back and closes her eyes. “I know I should go...”

  “But?”

  “But, she’s my mother,” Delia opens her eyes. “No matter how mean or selfish she is, she’s my mother. And I’m all she has. How can I leaver her?”

  I sigh and lean back against one of the corner posts of my bed. As much as I hate it, I understand exactly where Delia is coming from. A mother always has a hold on you - no matter how messed up she is.

  “She will always be your mother, whether or not you live with her. I am not asking you to stop loving her. Just asking you to love yourself a little too. This life...this life is not one anyone should live, and I want to see you out of it.”

  Delia nods. “I know you’re right, but I don’t know how to leave without feeling like I’m abandoning her.”

  I nod. “I understand. But just...think about it. You are always welcome here. And don’t worry about money or anything. We’ll figure that stuff out. I just want you to be safe.”

  We sit in silence for a long moment and I wonder how Delia does it. What does she tell Jayden? What excuses does she give when she can’t see him? How long can she maintain a relationship with this lifestyle? I have certainly never managed to.

  “Jayden wants me to go to church with him.”

  I smile and glance over at her. “So you got yourself a church boy, did you?”

  Delia laughs. “Yeah. It’s crazy isn’t it? We couldn’t be more opposite.” She looks up at me. “Have you ever been to church?”

  My gaze wonders to the dresser, to the picture stuck in the corner of the mirror. “Yes. A long time ago. My mother used to take me all the time.”

  Delia sits forward. “You never told me that.”

  “She used to take me to the little kids’ section. And she wouldn’t just leave me like other moms. She would stay there with me. Sing with me and move my little hands to make the motions.” I can almost feel her hands around mine as I remember.

  “Did you like it?”

  “It was the best part of the week.”

  Delia looks down at her hands. “Would you go with me?”

  “When?”

  “Today.” There is a hint of excitement in her voice. “Tonight actually. They’re having a special Christmas service and he asked me to come.”

  I close my eyes. “Delia, I don’t know...”

  How could I tell her the truth? That I don’t really feel like I can ever walk into a church again. Couldn’t ever face God again. Not after all the things I have done.

  “Please, Carrie.” Her eyes plead with me. “I don’t think I can do this without you.”

  I remember Dutch’s prayer for Delia. For me.

  ...may they both come to know and trust you completely…

  I let out the breath I have been holding. “Okay.”

  Chapter 16

  Liberty Temple is a huge church in the middle of the Bronx. With its traditional architecture of bricks and stained glass, it looks more like a Catholic cathedral than a Protestant church, but when I step through the doors I can feel the difference.

  The sound of heavy bass flows gently over us as we step out of the cold and into the lobby area. We are immediately welcomed with a smile and a solid handshake by an older gentleman who shows us where we can hang our coats. Before we can even put them up, Delia is stolen from me.

  “D, you made it!” He hugs her.

  Jayden isn’t the tallest guy, barely a few inches above Delia, but his solid frame makes up for what he lacks in height. His smile is as bright as Delia’s when he releases her from his embrace and threads his fingers through hers.

  “Babe, I want you to meet someone.” Delia is almost breathless as she speaks. “Jayden, this is my big sister Carrie. Carrie, this is the guy I was telling you about, Jayden.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I shake his hand.

  “The pleasure is mine,” Jayden says, his eyes warm and open. “D’s told me so much about you. It’s an honor to finally meet the big sister she looks up to so much.”

  She looked up to me?

  I glance over at Delia who is staring up at Jayden as if he has hung the moon. I have never seen her this happy. Ever.

  “Has the program started yet?” I ask.

  “No,” Jayden turns towards the door. “But it’s just about to. We should head inside and grab seats.”

  The rumble of voices dip to a low hush as we slip through the main doors that lead to the worship area. Almost all the pews are full, but Jayden leads us halfway down the aisle to where there are a few empty seats together. Delia pretty much disappears into her own world with Jayden even though she is right beside me, and I find myself looking around the room.

  A long time has passed since I have been in church. I was nine years old the last time I’d been in a church. It was the week before my mother was taken away, before my life changed completely. Even then, the church had been different from this one. Smaller, less fancy, but no less full of the love that seems to brim on the faces of everyone who passed by.

  I sink down in the pew and take it all in. The lights are low, making the lights in
the nativity scene at the front glow even brighter. Sheep, goats, a life size man and woman, frozen in time, all peering into a wooden box where the most important child ever born lies. I close my eyes as I recall the story my mother told me. The one she read to me of a King born as a commoner so He could save the world. Save me. It sounded so wonderfully real then. It sounds so impossible now. Especially the save me part.

  The music is beautiful. Every carol reminds me of why I love Christmas and inside the walls, it feels as if life could be different. As if an expensive whore, could have a life that would make her less ashamed. But as I step outside back into the cold a few hours later, I realize it isn’t real. It is all a dream. For me anyway.

  But maybe not for Delia.

  I watch her laugh with Jayden, his arms around her. I watch him kiss her nose and see her eyes light up with joy in a way that gives me hope. Maybe she hasn’t lost it all yet. And if that is the case, there is still something I can do. I might be a lost cause. But she doesn’t have to be.

  Chapter 17

  “Come back to England with me.”

  My teacup rattles the saucer as it slips from my fingers prematurely, splotches of coffee raining down on the pure white tablecloth. But my eyes are too glued to Sebastien to notice.

  “Excuse me?”

  He reaches across the table and takes my hand as he repeats the statement I am not sure I heard correctly.

  “Come back to England with me.” His eyes pierce mine letting me know he means every single word.

  “Sebastien, I have a job, friends, a life here...”

  “Forget your job,” he says. “I can find you a better one in London. In fact, you don’t even have to work if you don’t want to. I’ll take care of you. You’ll make new friends, have a new life…with me.”

  I sigh. “Sebastien, you don’t want me.”

  “Carina, I don’t make empty offers. I wouldn’t be asking you if I hadn’t already spent enough time thinking about it.”

  He moves his chair closer. “You’re an amazing woman. You deserve to be cherished by a single man who loves you like I do.”

  I smile and squeeze his hand. “You don’t love me. You love the illusion of me. What you see when we are together. But it’s only been two weeks. You don’t know enough to love me.”

  “I know enough to know I want you in my life. And I am willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.” Sebastien cocoons my hand in his. “Aren’t you tired of being used by your mother? You know that’s what she’s doing right? Using you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you find me attractive, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but...”

  “Don’t you enjoy the time we spend together?”

  How do I answer that?

  I sigh. “You are a great guy, Sebastien.”

  “Then, what is there to lose? What is keeping you from saying yes? Do you want this life your mother has you in?”

  A john with a conscience. Wow. It has been a while since I’ve encountered one of those. They come around every now and then, but very rarely are they as well off as Sebastien is.

  “It’s not that simple, Sebastien.” I look down at our joined hands. “I owe her. A lot.”

  “How much?”

  I don’t say anything. Can’t say anything. Despite the fact that Sebastien is saying all the right words, and despite the fact that he would probably follow through with all of them, I can’t be sure I can trust him with my biggest secret.

  “She...” The words stick in my throat, and I pull out of his grip. “I just can’t.”

  Sebastien narrows his eyes. “She has something on you.”

  I can’t meet his eyes, and that is answer enough.

  “Tell me what it is, Carrie,” he leans closer. “I don’t care. Whatever it is, it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. Tell me and we can figure it out.”

  Tears spring to my eyes as I think about Cordelia’s insurance policy. The one that Sebastien with all his money would actually be able to fulfill. The truth is, Sebastien really could take me out of this life right now if I let him. He could be the answer to my problems. But if I went with him, I would be abandoning Delia. What would happen to the young woman if I wasn’t around?

  But I am tired. So tired of taking care of other people. What about me? Who takes care of me?

  …Take care of Carrie and her sister. And may they both come to know and trust you completely….

  Dutch’s prayer. I know he believes that God can, but I need something more concrete.

  My eyes drift up to Sebastien, taking in his dark hair, lean build and handsome European features. It would be so easy to fall for him. He is saying and doing all the right things. But how can it ever be real when we both know we started out with him paying for my services? And is this really freedom or is it just a different kind of prostitution? Would I just be changing masters?

  “I’m sorry.” I jump to my feet. Silverware clanks as the table is jostled. I can feel the gazes of others in the hotel dining room. If Sebastien notices them, he doesn’t show it as he springs to his feet and catches me in his arms before I can dart away.

  “Carina.” The gentleness of the name on his lips momentarily stills the urgency in me to escape. “I don’t know what you are afraid of. But I promise you, if you let me, I can handle it. I can take care of you. Make you happy...”

  “But, Sebastien...”

  “Shhhhh.” He kisses me gently. “Don’t answer me now. Just think about it.”

  I let him fold me into his arms. All of a sudden, there is a third option - one that I realize I am seriously considering.

  I am still thinking about Sebastien’s offer as I take the stairs up to my apartment. Our lunch had pretty much ended with his proposal as he had to take off for a meeting. We are supposed to meet up later for dinner, but now the thought sends shreds of anxiety through me. He will want an answer. In fact, every time I see him from now on, he will be looking expectantly for an answer to his question. But I still don’t know what it will be. I want to say no outright. It’s crazy. There is so much in New York for me. Delia, Morgan and the other friends I have here, my career that finally looks like it is going somewhere, Dutch…

  “Dutch!”

  I stop short as I turn the corner in my hallway and see him leaning on the wall across from my door. He is wearing faded jeans and tennis shoes and looking more casual than I have seen him in a long time. When he spots me, he straightens and smiles.

  “Hey, Care.”

  “What are you doing here?” I start moving again towards him. “Did anyone see you when you came in? Are you okay? Where did you park?”

  The sound of Dutch’s laughter fills my ears and warms me a little. “I’m fine. I parked at the supermarket a block over and actually, the lady at the window at the front was very helpful warning me not to take the elevator.”

  I roll my eyes as I unlock my front door. “Yeah, that hasn’t been working for about three months now.”

  Dutch’s eyebrows race into his hairline. “Non-functioning for three months? There must be some building code against that. Let me call my friend—”

  “No, Dutch. It’s fine.”

  “But that means you have to lug groceries up three flights of stairs.” He follows me inside. “That’s unacceptable.”

  “Dutch.” I put a hand on his arm. He turns to look at me, and it is hard to keep from laughing. He hasn’t even been inside for two minutes, and he is already in fix it mode. “It’s fine. Trust me.”

  I watch his blonde brows relax. “Okay, fine. But if you ever change your mind...”

  “You’ll be the first one I call.” I slip his jacket from his shoulders and hang it on the hook behind the door. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”

  I wear my outerwear into my bedroom, glad that my hat, scarf and jacket are covering up most of the Carina Bell show. It takes me five minutes to shed the extra hair, extra make-up and the extra-fitted dress
for some leggings, an oversized sweater and a clean face. When I return to the main area, I find Dutch poking around in my kitchen. I smile at the oddity of his broad hulking frame in my small space.

  Dutch frowns. “Care, you have nothing in here. I can barely find ingredients for hot chocolate. When was the last time you went grocery shopping?”

  I shrug and slip onto a stool by the counter, content to watch him. “Dunno. Maybe three weeks ago? I’m not really an eat-in kind of person. Besides, you know I don’t cook, Dutch.”

  “But still, eggs, milk, bread, the basics at least.”

  “I think there’s a block of cheese in there,” I offer hopefully.

  Dutch folds his form in half to look into the fridge and emerges with something green and yellow wrapped in plastic. “You mean this?”

  I bite back a laugh. “I told you it has been three weeks, didn’t I?”

  He shakes his head. “Sometimes I wonder how you survive.”

  “I get by just fine,” I answer. “So, what’s this impromptu visit about? Here for a home inspection?”

  He pulls two mugs out of the cupboard and a spoon from the drawer.

  “Nope. I actually came to see how you’re doing. Last time I saw you was the morning after you saved my life, and I didn’t even get to say thank you.”

  He’d said thank you. And it was a thank you I will likely not ever forget, though it seems he already has.

  “No thanks necessary,” I look down at my nails. “It’s what anyone would have done.”

  He reaches across the counter and takes my hands in his, forcing me to look up at him.

  “Not anyone.” His voice is low as he rubs the back of my hands with his thumbs. “You’ve always gone above and beyond for me, Care, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. About everything that happened before the Christmas party with you dating Barden...”

  “You already apologized, Dutch.”

  “I know.” He squeezes my hands gently, and I feel my heart constrict in my chest.

  “But I wanted to say it again while I wasn’t high on antihistamines. I’m sorry.”

  I blink at him. “So, you remember apologizing to me at the hospital?”