“I’m sorry I made you leave.”
“You didn’t. It was my choice.”
“I could have been more insistent that you stay.” I let out a long breath.
“Oh, it’s not you,” she said, combing her fingers through her hair. “Even if I’d been there three months, I’d still feel homesick. Also doesn’t help that the Manhattan weather is giving Londona run for its money. Besides that, must have been a shock.” She took my hand. “I can’t let you deal with that alone.”
You cannot allow your father to ruin her life too, I told myself.
I was trapping her with me—not in chains in a basement, but emotionally. Lexi felt obligated to shoulder my pain, and it would crush her. I knew, because I lived with it. Sure, she was bright, Florida sunshine now, but eventually, in a few months, years, a decade if I was lucky, it would be too much. The darkness would smother her, and she would be just as miserable as me.
“You can stay in Florida. Not just for the weekend but forever if you want,” I said in a rush. “Don’t feel like you have to stay here for me. I don’t need you here.”
It was clumsy and not what I meant.
Lexi seemed slightly hurt, but then she replied, bright and chipper as always, “Like I said, you can’t get rid of me that easily. I do need this job.”
“I can find you a new one,” I pressed. “A better one.”
“Maybe,” she said, sounding unsure.
Then the plane was landing.
You suck at this, at everything.
“Do you want to just get pizza?”
“I’ll just take you home then.” We both spoke at the same time.
“Oh, uh, sure. I guess you have work to do.”
“No, we can get pizza,” I said quickly.
“No, I should check in to see if I need to organize a fundraiser for Grenadine.”
“So this is me,”Lexi said when the town car pulled up in front of the crumbling brick apartment building.
I stepped out of the car and pulled out her bags from the trunk.
“I’ll carry this up for you.”
“I can do it,” she protested.
“Do you have an elevator?”
“No,” she admitted.
I tipped my head. “You’re going to drag fifty pounds of oranges up three flights of stairs.”
“Four, but fine. Just let me make sure my neighbors aren’t out,” she muttered.
“Why, Lexi? I thought every stranger was a friend you just hadn’t met yet?” I teased.
She grimaced. “In this instance, more like a busybody grandma you didn’t know you were related to.” She slowly twisted the key in the lock of the front door, poked her head inside, and silently waved me in.
We took two steps before doors were flung open and people streamed into the lobby.
“Mr. Richmond,” an elderly lady cried throwing herself into my arms. Two young women with her were crying.
