Redemption (Reunion Book 1) Page 5

  “Lilah, I have big news. Call me back as soon as you get this,” he said.

  She hadn’t heard from James in months, so she called him back right away.

  “How soon can you fly to New York?” he asked as soon as he picked up.

  “Why do I need to fly to New York?” Lilah asked.

  “Because I slipped my boss a copy of your manuscript, and he loved it. You may be able to get a publishing deal without ever having to find an agent, thanks to me!” he practically shouted into the phone.

  “You kept a copy of my manuscript?” she asked quietly.

  “Of course I did, Lilah. I love you. Do you really think I was going to come to New York and work for Random House and not keep you in mind? Some of the things that get published make me cringe when I think about how deserving you are. My boss fell in love with your prose style, so we’re going to see if we can push your manuscript up the chain.”

  “Wow,” Lilah breathed as she sat down hard. Her lifelong aspiration of being an author with a nationally known publisher was finally within arm’s reach. She felt as if she had just won the lottery.

  “They want to schedule a meeting with the marketing department ASAP,” James said.

  “I’ll book a ticket for tomorrow,” Lilah said as her mind churned with myriad little details that needed to be wrapped up.

  “Text me your flight information, and I’ll pick you up at the airport when you come in,” James said before disconnecting.

  The next day, Lilah arrived at JFK airport to find James waiting for her near the baggage claim. She smiled when she greeted him, but she couldn’t stop the instant comparisons that sprang to mind. An image of Diego standing before her flashed in her eyes, and she blinked it away. Diego was handsome and charming, but he was not a good person. James was a nice man, and he was also a very smart man. Those were the two things she loved most about him.

  “How’s the new job going?” she asked as he reached out to hug her.

  “If I say splendid, it’ll sound like a gross exaggeration, but it has been absolutely splendid so far.”

  “It looks like this move worked out for you, James. I’m happy for you,” she said with a smile.

  “Thanks, Lilah. Are you up for lunch? My boss is in meetings until three o’clock today, so we have plenty of time.”

  “Lunch sounds great,” Lilah answered.

  James knew the city well, because he had grown up in a Manhattan apartment with parents who both worked in the editorial department of Random House’s New York location. After James had finished a degree in creative writing, he had gone from intern to editorial assistant for the publishing giant. His career had gone off track with the tragic death of both his parents in an automobile accident. James had left the city and gone in search of healing through travel. He had spent a good portion of his inheritance travelling the world. Lilah and James met during his time in Saint Louis.

  She had been seated in a local coffee shop, typing away at her manuscript, and he had crossed the room to talk to her.

  “Please tell me you’re not the embodiment of that cliché stereotype of aspiring novelist who sits in a coffee shop and types all day?” he had said with a smile.

  She had looked up and met a pair of friendly green eyes set in a face that had intelligent written all over it. He was obviously quite a bit older than she, but he had a youthful edge to his demeanor. “I am an aspiring novelist, but this is my first time ever typing in a coffee shop. I usually do all my typing at work. I’m also a grant writer for non-profit organizations,” she had said.

  “There’s one I haven’t heard before,” he had replied.

  From there, they had become good friends. Once they got close enough for her to tell him about her manuscript, he had dropped the bombshell that his parents had both been Random House Editors. To say that she was impressed by that news would have been the understatement of the millennium.

  He had proposed shortly before being informed that he could resume his old position at Random House. Once he finally broke the news to Lilah, she had been upset. Through the course of their relationship, he had always told her that he never wanted to return to New York. It had hurt when he had made the decision to go back without even consulting her about it.

  They settled at a table in a small sandwich shop, and James reached across the table to take both of her hands in his.

  Contact that was once familiar now made her uncomfortable. She retracted her hands and smiled at him politely. “Thanks again for talking to your boss about my book,” she said.

  “No problem. I actually told everyone in my department about you. I can’t wait for them to meet you. They’re all going to love you.”

  “How many people have you talked to about my book?” she asked.

  “I’ve only mentioned your book to my boss, but I’ve talked to others in the department about you.”

  Lilah wasn’t sure how she felt about that, so she asked, “Why do you talk about me at your job?”

  “Isn’t it obvious, Lilah?” he said quietly. “I know that if you could get a book deal with Random House, you would move to New York in a heartbeat.”

  “What exactly are you saying, James?” she asked with a sinking feeling.

  “I’m saying, move in with me and I’ll do whatever it takes to get my boss to support your book. Turns out, I still have some clout around there because of my parents’ influence.”

  “And if I don’t move to New York?”

  “Come on, Lilah. You’re not a stupid woman. Why would I stick my neck out that far for an ex?”

  “But, you said we’d always be friends,” she replied as tears gathered in her eyes. “And you’re the one who contacted me!”

  “I know, Lilah. I had the best intentions. When I left, I could see in your eyes that you didn’t want to say goodbye to me. I think you just needed one last little push to convince you to get over your juvenile fear of the big city. If you move here, you get me and a book deal as a bonus.”

  “Your boss hasn’t even looked at my book, has he?” Lilah asked.

  “Not yet, but I’ve mentioned the concept to him, and he said it sounded good. There’s actually no meeting today. I just made that up because I knew it would work to get you here quickly. I’ve missed you, and I haven’t had sex in months,” he said in a joking tone.

  Lilah felt her eyes bulge out of her head a little as she glared at him. “So, let me get this straight. You called me up and lied to me, dangled my dream in front of me, to get me here because you wanted a booty call?”

  “That’s not how I would have put it…”

  “I’m leaving, James. And don’t ever contact me again. We can’t be friends after this.”

  As Delilah stomped toward the restaurant exit, she tried her best to stifle the hot tears that streamed down her face. She must look like the epitome of an out of towner, an emotional country bumpkin. James made no attempt to follow her, but she neither expected nor wanted him to. She would probably never see him again after this. Her strong emotional reactions had always been a point of contention between them. He had often told her that she needed to grow up. He likely would have admonished her after her confrontation with Diego.

  “Excuse me, Miss…?” an older woman stepped in Delilah’s path and said.

  “Johnson,” Delilah said without thinking. “Delilah Johnson,” she added as she sniffed and stepped around the woman.

  She walked out the door, but got no farther than half a block before she heard her name being called. She turned to see the woman bearing down on her with a look of sheer determination. “Miss Johnson, allow me to buy you a cup of coffee,” the woman said.

  “Sorry, ma’am, I’m on my way to the airport,” Delilah replied and kept walking.

  “Trust me, dear. You want to take me up on my offer. If you don’t, you may not be able to live with yourself when you try to get your manuscript published.”

  Delilah stopped short and asked, “Were you listening
to my conversation?”

  “Absolutely! One hears the most fascinating things in that little sandwich shop.”

  Delilah felt like she should be affronted, but for some reason she was more interested than offended. The woman had the look of someone with access to an incredible amount of resources. She was clearly a person who had fully owned her power and her place in the world.

  Delilah resisted the urge to wilt before this woman, whoever she was, and said, “I suppose you think it’s funny that my ex-fiancé tried to bribe me with a book deal to get me to sleep with him. I’m crying because I’m not from the city. I’m from a small town in Texas where people just don’t do things like that.”

  “Actually, Miss Johnson, I find your attitude quite fascinating, if a bit archaic. I knew James’s parents very well. His father was the acquisitions editor for one of the bestselling imprints in Random House, but I suppose you know his family history since you two were once engaged.”

  Delilah’s heart skipped a few beats as she asked, “Do you work for Random House too?”

  The woman’s nose went up a notch as she said, “No, dear,” with a little laugh. “I am Josephine Coleman of Coleman and Coupland Publishing. I’ve worked for my father’s company for most of my life, and I am currently the chief acquisitions editor for our young adult imprint. My imprint is in direct competition with the one your desperate ex-fiancé works for. The difference is that I have more say in my imprint than James’s boss has in his. Trust me; I’m the one you want to calm down and talk to.”

  “Oh…” Delilah breathed.

  “This is a lucky moment for you, dear. I’m a very busy woman, one who is propositioned all the time, so I have better things to do on my lunch hour than listen to some inane drivel about an idea for a novel that’s either completely horrible or completely unoriginal…but I get the feeling you won’t disappoint me. James is independently wealthy, but he loves his job. No matter his personal feelings for you, he never would have offered to help with your manuscript unless it had potential. Once we sit down with our coffee, I will give you exactly two minutes to wow me.” With those words, Josephine turned and walked into the next coffee shop on the block.

  Even if her life had been in danger, Delilah would not have been able to stop herself from following Josephine inside. Palms sweaty and knees shaking, she organized her thoughts as she stood beside Josephine and perused the drink options written on the chalk board.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Diego tried to calm his nerves as he approached the door. Would it get slammed in his face before he even had the chance to speak? If he did get the chance to speak, what would he say? How would he say it? He honestly had no idea.

  He took one last deep breath and knocked on the door. It wasn’t long before the door swung open, and he was looking down into the face of Adrian Horta’s mother.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  He cleared his throat and said, “Mrs. Horta, you may not remember me, but my name is Diego Gonzales.”

  “I know who you are. I’ve seen you around town. You were with Delilah last night at the reunion.”

  “Yes, I was with her.”

  “Is she with you? She said she would try to stop by before she left this morning.”

  “No, she’s not with me,” Diego responded. He resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder and see if she had slipped up behind him.

  “Would you like to come in?” Mrs. Horta asked.

  “Sure,” Diego said with a polite smile. He looked around the small apartment before taking a seat on the sofa. Traces of poverty were all around him. The sofa was well worn, but she had covered it with a clean sheet and thrown a handmade afghan over the back of it. A small, frayed rug covered part of the dingy floor, and faded pictures of family hung on every wall. Diego’s eyes went directly to the photo of a young boy that hung in the center of all the other photos.

  “My son, Adrian,” Mrs. Horta said when she noticed him staring at the picture. “He died ten years ago this April.”

  “I know, ma’am. That’s why I’m here,” Diego said.

  “You’re here about my son? I thought you were a friend of Delilah’s.”

  “I am a friend of hers, but I came here today to see if there is anything I can do for you.”

  “Anything you can do for me?”

  “I’d like to help your family, if you’ll let me. I can’t help but notice you live in government housing, so maybe I could help you get a better place,” he offered.

  Mrs. Horta sat forward and said, “How are you going to do that?”

  “Well, I haven’t really thought it through all the way. I have enough money to help get you set up in a better place, in a better part of town. You probably recognized my name, because my father used to be the plant manager at STP. He also served more than ten years on the city council. My mother owns Comfort Dental. Right now, I own the Gold’s Gym and La Cantina. I can help you with whatever you need,” he said as he maintained eye contact with the older woman.

  “Can you bring my son back to me?” she asked, her voice shaking with anger.

  Diego shook his head as regret started to set in.

  “Can you go back in a time machine and arrest your little girlfriend and charge her with murder?” she asked as tears started coursing down her face.

  “No, I can’t,” he said in a near whisper as his throat started closing.

  “You can’t help me then,” Mrs. Horta said. “It doesn’t matter how much money you and your family have. There is absolutely nothing you can do for me. Maybe you have the kind of problems that can be solved by throwing money at them, but I don’t. Look at that picture of my son.”

  Diego complied. He allowed his eyes to skim over the boy’s smile, and was reminded of his own little brother, Javier.

  “Nothing you can do for me will make up for losing him. If there was some other reason you came, I’ll listen, but I don’t want to hear another word of you offering to give me money because you feel guilty about what your girlfriend did. If anyone should be here offering me money, it should be her and her daddy, but they wouldn’t dare show their faces here. He sits up there in city hall, like he’s the high and mighty king of the world, and he knows his daughter is a killer. He shouldn’t have covered up what she did.”

  Diego shifted uncomfortably on the small sofa. He agreed with everything Mrs. Horta said, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had come here to offer her something concrete, because he was a person of action, not words. He saw that the only help he could possibly give offended her, and he didn’t know where to go from there. Should he just get up and leave? Should he stay and try to comfort her? He didn’t know.

  After a moment, Mrs. Horta dried her eyes and pinned him with an unnerving look. “It wasn’t your fault, young man. You weren’t even in town when it happened. I remember you were with the team at a baseball game in Palacious that night. Why don’t you just go home to your parents and forget all about what Delilah said to you last night. She was upset because I ran into her in the restroom and we got to talking about Adrian and Mirabel. Delilah and Mirabel took Adrian’s death pretty hard; we all did.”

  Diego sat back and exclaimed, “You were listening to us last night?”

  “Yes, but I was only trying to make sure Delilah was okay. I know I upset her in the restroom,” Mrs. Horta said with a shrug.

  “I guess I should go then. I’m really sorry I bothered you, ma’am,” he said as he stood up to leave.

  “You better not hurt Delilah’s feelings. She’s a good kid, and she’s done a lot for me.”

  Diego sat back down and asked, “What has she done?”

  “When Adrian died, we couldn’t afford a funeral. Delilah and a few other kids went out to the neighborhood and collected money to help out. They only collected a few hundred dollars from people, because no one around here has much to spare. I thought we weren’t going to be able to pay for a service and burial, but Delilah donated all the m
oney she’d been saving for two years. She had enough to pay for a casket and a headstone for my son.”

  “I never even knew she had a job back in high school,” Diego said quietly.

  “She had a job. She was a sophomore when she got it, and she let everyone on the block know because she was so excited to be working. When that Palais Royal for Her opened up across town, the manager hired a bunch of teenagers to help get the store set up. After the grand opening, they let almost all of them go, but Delilah got to stay because she was good at that job. For two years, she walked straight to work after school, then she worked from 4:00 until closing, and then she walked all the way home because her mother didn’t have a car.”

  “That’s a lot of walking. She must have been tired all the time. How on earth was she able to keep up with honors classes and all her extra-curricular activities?”

  “She worked so much, and she was always on the go because she really wanted to be better than just some poor girl in the projects. She wants to be a bigshot writer someday, and that’s all she ever talked about when she was a kid. She was saving that money for college, and that’s why I didn’t want to take it, but she insisted. I told her I’d pay her back some day, but for the past few years, she’s been sending me money to help out. She sends cards sometimes, but I haven’t seen her in years, until last night. She didn’t even recognize me.”

  As Mrs. Horta’s words washed over him, Diego felt the full magnitude of everything Delilah had said to him last night. No wonder she had always seemed to have such a chip on her shoulder. Diego glanced around the apartment again. This was the first time in his life that he had ever been inside such a humble home. All of his friends and his parents’ friends lived in nice houses. They had manicured lawns and security systems. A few of them even employed domestic help.