Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
“Coney Island. I want to see it with you now, what it looks like all grown up. Maybe you’ll take some new pictures I can hang on my wall.”
I meet his eyes and shake my head. “I can’t accept this,” I manage.
“Is it the wrong kind? You used a little Canon digital camera until you got a new phone.”
“It’s not wrong. It’s exactly right, Benny. You always get it right,” I say, barely choking out the words. I fit the camera back in the box carefully. “I cut hair now. I help my mom out when I can. I don’t run cross country or take pictures or do the hair and makeup for shitty amateur productions of Wicked anymore either,” I say.
“I’ll take it back,” he says, moving the camera and box out of the way. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was thoughtful and sweet. It’s just not something that fits in my life anymore. I don’t have that kind of free time.”
“Then tell me about work,” he says decisively, so smooth, no recriminations, no attempt to convince me to keep the gift. I let myself relax a little.
“Work is terrific. Busy, of course. I like it there.””
“Have you ever thought about opening your own salon?” I ask.
“I have. About a year ago I got to thinking about it, what product line to carry, services I’d offer and the ones I’d do away with, that kind of thing. But ever since I came here it’s like being at Snip has kicked that into high gear. Not that I don’t love my job there, it’s just inspired me to be more serious about it.”
“You know I’d invest in you anytime. No strings attached,” he says it so easily. I shake my head emphatically. No, absolutely not, every instinct recoils from the idea.
“I’m sorry,” I say, pushing back my chair. “I don’t want that. Thank you, but that’s the last thing I would ever want is you putting money on me, backing some idea I have. I feel awful even thinking it. Please just forget I said anything. I’m just—” A sick twist of my stomach nearly gags me. I tell him I need to go, that I’m sorry again, and practically run out the door before doing what I set out to do.
He catches up to me on foot right as I step on my mom’s front porch. He grabs my arm and turns me to face him. I look away, self-conscious. My cheeks blaze with embarrassment.
“Hey, I thought I asked you not to run away on me,” he says, his voice so gentle, teasing that I almost want to lift my chin and see whatever is in his eyes.
“Listen,” he says, “I know you weren’t hinting for me to help you out with opening a salon. That’s not how you operate. You would rather obviously sprint a few blocks to avoid that discussion.”
“I don’t want that from you. I don’t want presents and business loans,” I say in a rush.
“It wouldn’t be a loan.”
“I don’t want that. I don’t want to tie my business up with another person, and I don’t want to risk losing what we have over some joint business venture.” What the hell am I saying? I went there to break things off with him, not admit there was something to break off.
“I’ve already told you nothing will ruin what we have,” he tries to reassure me.”
He follows me up the porch steps and sits beside me on my mom’s old porch swing.
“I’m sorry I ran,” I say. “I panicked.”
“You gotta work on that,” he says. I lean my head against his arm, tentative. Benny takes my hand in his.
“We good?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
“Good. I barely survived the first time you left Daze. I don’t think I could do it again.”
The weight of his confession hits me hard, and I lean in and whisper against his ear, “I wasn’t okay when I left either. I saw how you looked at me when you caught up to me today. I don’t ever want to hurt you like that again.”
“What did I look like?”
“Devastated.”
He shrugs. I think he’ll say I’m exaggerating, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry, more than you can ever know,” I tell him, my hand on his face. The stubble on his jaw abrades my palm, his eyes shut under my touch. I brush my lips against his. I fall for him all over again, no matter how much trouble it means for me.
“I never even had a chance, once you said my name outside the grocery store, Benny,” I confide, and snuggle against him while the swing sways back and forth and the wind chimes tinkle in the breeze.
16
BENNY
Pretending this is temporary doesn’t work for me. For a man who can keep my cards close to the vest in business, my real intentions keep escaping when I’m around.