she said with a weak smile. “Mark and I are looking for an apartment, but until then your mom wants me to stay here. I’m starting work tomorrow, so I guess I’ll see you at the office.”
She started to walk away like she was going to brush right past him when Dion reached out and grasped her by the elbow.
“I—” he started to say, then stopped.
“What?” she prompted.
He gritted his teeth and let the words dissipate from his mind. “I’m proud of you and all you’ve accomplished. You’re a great photographer and you’ve become a beautiful woman,” he said honestly.
Her smile was genuine, touching her brown eyes the way he remembered it did when they’d been laughing together as teenagers. “Thanks, Dion. That means a lot to me. Good night.”
“Good night,” he said reluctantly, letting her walk away. Again.
* * *
“Where am I supposed to live?” Paula Anderson asked with one bony arm propped on an even slimmer hip.
Lyra sighed, not wanting to go through this again. She didn’t need this aggravation on her first day of a new job. She was sick and tired of dealing with her mother’s selfishness and irresponsibility. Immediately, guilt washed over her and she closed her eyes, counted to five and then reopened them.
“You can get a job,” she said slowly. “I’ve given you all the money I can. I just moved across the country. Don’t you realize how expensive that is?”
“Girl, don’t give me that BS. And don’t forget I know who you really are. Now you might think you’re all high and mighty, out there foolin’ those rich folk, but you ain’t any better than I am.”
After years of hearing the same story, it was a wonder Lyra had any pride, or self-confidence for that matter. But she did, and she owed that to the upbringing of Janean Donovan.
“I don’t have any money.”
“You got money. I know they probably got an account set up for you and everything. That woman’s been so in love with my child for years. It’s a damn shame. Got kids of her own but still gotta go out and try to steal somebody else’s.”
“Well, if somebody else had been taking care of their child, maybe another woman wouldn’t have to.” Lyra’s reply was quick, her reflexes even quicker as she caught Paula’s long narrow fingers just as she tried to slap her across the cheek.
“I told you not to put your hands on me again,” she said with carefully tempered anger.
“And I told you not to forget who birthed you.”
They were locked in a stare-down, something that had happened too many times before. Paula wanted Lyra to bend to her will, to do whatever she said, whenever she said it. Lyra wanted Paula to get a damned clue. She was a grown woman and long over her mother’s drug-addicted ways and bitterness.
Sadly, none of that meant Lyra didn’t love her mother. After all, this was the woman who gave birth to her and for a little while the woman who’d taken care of her. Then one day everything just went totally wrong. They were kicked out of their small apartment with only the clothes on their backs, so Paula had to do what was necessary to make sure her baby ate, at least that’s the reason she gave Lyra for turning tricks in dark alleys while Lyra kept watch on the corner. But that was then. Over the years Lyra had become adept at leaving her past where it belonged, in the past.
“I’m not giving you any money. You know how to take care of yourself,” Lyra answered seriously and turned to walk away.
Paula had cut her off just as she was about to walk into the Excalibur Business Center that was owned by the Donovans, the headquarters of Infinity as well as DNM—Donovan Network Management. Now, Lyra wanted to get inside as quickly as possible. It was a secure building, she knew. Nobody was getting onto that elevator and upstairs without an ID badge or a phone call from the building’s security. Paula didn’t want to see any of the Donovans, that was for sure. Their relationship was not good, never had been, no matter how much Janean had tried.
“Don’t walk away from me, gal,” Paula said. Her Southern drawl usually came out when she was drunk or high—or some combination of the two—and when she was pissed off, which by now, Lyra knew she was.
A long time ago, Paula would ask Lyra for money—beg a little, cry for a couple minutes, and then Lyra would give her what she wanted. Then there’d be sloppy kisses, empty promises and quick goodbyes—a routine Lyra had grown to despise. But Lyra was done with that. If she counted the money she’d given her mother over the years, it would easily amount to a few thousand dollars. And that was nothing compared to all the money the Donovans had given her to stay away and leave Lyra with them. So part of the debt she owed this family was her mother’s. The other part was her own, and she was ready to start repaying it.
“Don’t threaten me, Paula. We’ve been there and done that. I’d think by now you’d know the limits.”
“You sure got a smart mouth. I bet if I come over there and smack the taste out of it, you’ll know who’s boss.”
The bright morning sunshine glittered over Paula’s fiery red hair, which was shaved close like a man’s. Leopard-print pants looked as if they were painted on her slim legs while the black shirt she wore slipped off one shoulder and hung loosely over a boyishly flat chest. She looked like she could have been about twelve years old. And if there had been a strong wind, she’d fall right over. A brief pang of regret touched Lyra’s heart at the sight.
“But that’s not going to happen now is it?” a masculine voice said.
Both their heads turned as Dion approached. Lyra instantly wanted to disappear. She hated for Dion to see her mother like this, to be reminded of where she came from.
“Well, looky here.” Paula tried to whistle but her two front teeth were missing so the sound was empty and produced more spittle than air. “You done growed up, boy.”
Dion only nodded at Paula then looked to Lyra. “Go into the building,” he told her. He could be such an arrogant ass at times. And other times he could be her savior. That was a role Dion always loved playing. Still, he should have known better than to think she’d just obey him.
“I’ve got this under control,” she said.
“No. I’ll handle it,” he countered.
“You her shining knight?” Paula asked, her speech slurring even more as she stumbled toward Dion.
Lyra rolled her eyes. Dion reached out a hand to catch Paula as she leaned into him but nearly missed him entirely. “I’ll call you a cab, Paula. Then you need to disappear. For good,” he said with a finality that made Lyra quietly gasp.
He was right, her mother needed to go. This was her job, her new life. She didn’t need or want her here.
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Paula said straightening herself up and flattening her palms on Dion’s chest.
He wore a suit today, a gray double-breasted Armani—Dion loved just about anything Armani—with a crisp white shirt and bold peach tie with tiny flecks of silver. The sight of her mother’s slim hands, bony wrists and veiny arms on him made her stomach churn.
Lyra stepped over, clasping her mother by the waist and pulling her away. “Just go, Paula. I’ll call you later.”
She didn’t miss Dion’s frown at her words, but chose to ignore them.
“I’ll leave when I get what I came for,” Paula huffed.
Lyra rolled her eyes skyward. This was not the way she wanted to start her first day at Infinity. Hell, it wasn’t the way she wanted to live her life. But silly her for thinking she had any control of that. “Here,” she said digging into the side zipper of her purse and pulling out the cash she’d stuffed there yesterday after tipping