The Redemption Of Lillie Rourke. Loree Lough

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      Lillie smiled as Liam chuckled. “Yeah,” he said, showing off his bouquet, “we heard.”

      Jase stepped back, asking Lillie how badly he’d crushed her purchase.

      She gave the orchid a quick once-over. “It’s fine.”

      “Are you sure? Because I’m happy to go right back in there and buy a replace—”

      Lillie silenced him with a tiny smile. “Really. Orchids are tougher than they look, kinda like the daisies Dad bought...” She winked at her father. “Because he thinks they’re Mom’s favorites.”

      While Liam chuckled, Jase remembered that once, they’d been Lillie’s favorites. “They’re tough,” she’d say, “like me.” The proof could be found on anything that would hold ink: envelopes, napkins, cash register receipts... Given enough time, the thing would be covered with doodles of daisies, jagged-edged leaves and curlicue vines swirling between the blossoms. But that had been before the accident.

      Get it together, dude. “When did you get home?”

      “I just picked her up at the Greyhound station. My girl, here, wanted to stop on the way home. Get a little something for her mom.”

      “Ellicott City is hardly on the way home to Fells Point...”

      “I know,” Lillie said, “but this place is owned by the parents of a girl I graduated with. Anyway, you know I like shopping at mom-and-pop stores when I can. Besides, no telling when I’ll get a chance to go shopping, and I wanted to bring something nice to Mom. Dad says she’s been cooking and baking for days to welcome me home, so...”

      She’d never been one to ramble, not even when nervous, but Jase supposed a lot of things about her had changed in the year she’d been gone.

      “Well, I think the flower is real nice. I’ll bet your mom will think so, too.”

      She’d focused on something over his left shoulder, and Jase turned just as Whitney closed the distance between them.

      “Well, it’s all fixed,” she announced, holding up a tiny black bag. Linking her arm through his, she pressed close to his side. “Turns out it was just the battery after all. You were right. I got myself all worried over nothing.”

      She fixed her gaze on Liam. “Mr. Rourke, right?”

      Lillie’s dad extended a hand. “Good to see you again, Whitney. And please, call me Liam.” He drew Lillie into a sideways hug. “I don’t think you’ve met my daughter. Lillie, this is Whitney.”

      Jase felt Whitney stiffen, and from the corner of his eye saw the slight lift of her chin.

      “Lillie? The Lillie?”

      Had Whitney intended to make it sound as though she knew all the gory details of Lillie’s recent past? Because nothing could be further from the truth. Each time Whitney had pressed for information about former relationships, Jase steered the conversation in a different direction. Not to protect her so much as to spare himself the memories. Except once, early in their relationship, when she’d found a framed photo in his desk drawer. “You loved her a lot didn’t you?” Whitney had asked, staring at it. When he didn’t respond, she’d added, “So? What’s her name?” Somehow, he managed to grind out “Lillie.” Things got real quiet between them for the rest of that evening. But thankfully, the subject never came up again.

      A fly buzzed by his head, rousing him from the memory.

      “Yes,” he said, “this is Lillie. We go way back.” The image of the first time he saw her flashed in his mind. As manager of Three-Eyed Joe’s and leader of the Muzikalees, he’d hired her on a probationary basis, thinking a girl singer would encourage a less rowdy crowd. From the instant she’d walked into the pub, Lillie had a positive impact on the place. The guys in the band quit cussing. People on the dance floor didn’t bring their drinks with them. The bartenders and waitresses picked up on her sweet, upbeat demeanor, and served customers, even the surly ones, with smiles.

      “Well, it’s been lovely seeing you again, Liam, and meeting you, Lillie,” Whitney said, “but Jason and I have a few more errands to run before we change for dinner at Sabatino’s.”

      He’d all but forgotten their dinner plans. But the way she’d put it made it sound as if they were living together. And they most definitely were not. Lillie’s eyes widened, exactly as they had when she pressed the engagement ring into his palm that night. Despite their history, he didn’t like seeing her hurt.

      “Sabatino’s, eh?” Liam said. “That’s one of our favorite restaurants in Little Italy.”

      Lillie, Jase noted, said nothing. Their favorite restaurant had always been Chiaparelli’s, because they made great gnocchi.

      “Well, good seeing you two,” he said, shaking Liam’s hand. To Lillie, he said, “See you around, kiddo.”

      If that look on her face was any indicator, Lillie was thinking, Not if I have anything to say about it!

      “Does Dad have your contact information?”

      Jase decided that mind reading wasn’t among his hidden talents.

      “Sure do,” Liam said as Whitney pressed closer to Jase’s side. “Why?”

      When Lillie’s big dark eyes locked on his, Jase had to remind himself to breathe. There had been a time when a look like that would have inspired him to—

      “Good. I’ll be in touch,” she told him. “Is there a best time to call?”

      “No, no, anytime’s fine.”

      And with that, he let Whitney turn him around. Let her lead him across the parking lot, let her take his keys. The quiet beep indicated the doors were unlocked, effectively snapping him out of his reverie. If she offered to drive, well, he’d just have to draw the line at that.

      She sat quietly for a few minutes, then said, “She’s even prettier in person.”

      As he merged with traffic on Route 40, he silently agreed.

      “How old is she?”

      The question took him by surprise. “I dunno, twenty-seven, twenty-eight?”

      “I should ask her what skincare products she uses. She doesn’t look a day over twenty.”

      Should’ve seen her the night she left, Jase thought. By then, months of abusing her body with drugs and booze had taken a toll, painting dark circles beneath her eyes, turning her normally pink-cheeked, freckled face pale, dulling her once bright eyes. She’d lost some hair, too, and had taken to wearing knit hats and scarves, even in the summertime. And the tremors... She’d needed two hands to return the ring.

      “Why do you suppose she wants to call you?”

      To talk about a repayment plan? “We didn’t exactly part on a good note. I expect she wants to correct that. You know, for closure?”

      He braked for a traffic light. Two more blocks, and they’d turn onto her street so СКАЧАТЬ