Earning Edie (Espinoza Boys #1) (4 page)

***

For the next hour, Lily and her mom coddled me thoroughly. Lily listened to me vent as much as I wanted without a single complaint, while her mother hand-delivered our favorite snacks and ruffled my hair affectionately each time she passed by.

I filled Lily in on the full story, and showed her the newspaper. “Look at the headlines.”

“Sunday liquor sales … antiquing is on the rise locally ….” She murmured as she read each headline out loud. “The Lonely Graduate. Time to get a new family.”

Suddenly she let out a loud gasp. “Nick Espinoza wrote this one. Oh my God, Edie!”

“I know,” I groaned. “It’s bad, right? I didn’t know what I was saying! I was drunk. I never should have gone to that stupid party.”

Lily spent a couple of minutes skimming through the article. Then she turned to look at me. “Maybe you should be glad this happened.”

My eyes widened. “How do you figure?”

“This is all true, Edie. I’ve seen it myself. Aren’t you tired of it? Your parents need a wake-up call.”

“This isn’t a wake-up call!” I protested. “They don’t think they did anything wrong. And now I don’t even have a home! I’m on my own, and my graduation certificate hasn’t even come in the mail.”

We lazed on the couch, the television playing trashy reality TV that might as well have been my life, while we hashed out the possibilities.

“I wish you could just stay here,” Lily said.

I heard the apology in her voice. “Are you kidding? You’re like sardines in here. I need space to think and plan. I need to research other scholarship or grant opportunities for school. I’m not giving up on college just because my parents are jerks.”

She smiled, looking relieved, and cracked her knuckles. “Then, put on your problem-solving cap. It’s time to get to work!”

We laughed and snacked, and took turns listing out less than ideal scenarios. Spending money on an apartment. Searching for just a room to rent to keep the expense down. Trying to think of someone else who would let me crash free of charge for a while.

“We could ask Samantha or the twins,” she suggested, but I shook my head.

Sam and I were acquaintances at best. I knew the twins even less. We weren’t close, and I couldn’t imagine begging my way through the door on pure pity.

“We’re not close friends, Lil. That would be way too awkward. Besides, Samantha is constantly throwing parties. She’s almost as bad as Carlos. And the twins are like Fort Knox. They wouldn’t want someone in their inner sanctum. They never even held a sleepover when we were kids.”

“True.” She rapped her nails on the glass-top coffee table while she thought. I chewed on mine.

“You should ask Carlos,” she said finally.

“
What?”

“Well, his house is huge. They have tons of extra room. Besides, he’s related to that Nick asshole. He must be, right?”

“They’re brothers, aren’t they? I figured Nick must live there, too.”

She shook her head. “Nope. Carlos is an only child, that’s why his parents let him have anything he wants. They’re always working, and they buy his forgiveness.”

At my surprised look, she shrugged. “You’re not the only one who was less than invested parents. But at least his acknowledge their shortcomings. Yours are in denial.”

I sighed. “Well, I can’t ask Carlos. That’s crazy. If I was going to guilt anyone into giving me a place to stay, it would be Nick. He pretended to be so
nice
, and the whole time he was playing me.”

Lily snapped her fingers, a smile lighting up her face. “That’s it!”

“What?”

“Ask Nick!”

My jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I’m not kidding,” she said, getting a determined glint in her eye I recognized from so many years of friendship. “Better yet, don’t ask Nick.
Tell
Nick. This is his fault, and he owes you. Maybe it’ll even teach him not to screw with people’s lives.”

“I don’t know. …”

Anxiety rose at the very thought. Approach that sexy, sophisticated guy and demand he let me stay in his home? That was ballsy, and a little crazy. I couldn’t pull that off, could I?

“What if he says no?”

Lily smiled sweetly, but I knew what lurked behind that innocent exterior. The girl could be devious when she wanted to be.

“Simple. Then you blackmail him.”

She jumped up from the couch while I stared at her in shock.

I
could
go to his boss and complain. He’d interviewed me without telling me he was a reporter. He’d done it at a party where I was drinking. He’d taken advantage of someone who was underage.

Ugh. Thinking on it that way, I felt like such a naïve idiot. I hated being cast as the dumb girl taken in with a flirty smile. How many girls had he wrapped around his little finger with those gorgeous eyes and that friendly face?

Lily was brave, and she was tough. If this had happened to her, she wouldn’t hesitate to make Nick pay.

I was tired of being a pushover. Whether it was my parents, or it was Nick, the result was the same. I’d let people walk all over me for too many years already.

I took a deep breath, braced to push myself out of my comfort zone.

“Okay, let’s do it. Let’s get me a place to stay and make Nick pay.”

Chapter 4

EDIE

I asked Lily to wait outside, and marched through the front entrance of the news office. This was something I wanted to do alone, and should I fail spectacularly, I didn’t want an audience.

A tall reception desk fronted the office, staffed by a sweet older lady in rhinestone-decorated glasses. I worried for a brief moment I wouldn’t get in.

“Hi, I need to talk to Nick Espinoza.”

“Sure,” the receptionist said brightly. “Let me ring him.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. We’re old friends. Just point me in the right direction. I want to surprise him,” I said, and crossed my fingers behind my back.

The receptionist looked uncertain a moment, then shrugged.

“Alright, go straight down that way.” She pointed to the aisle running between cubicles behind her. “Take your first right. He’ll be on the end.”

“Thanks.”

I walked down the corridor, my duffel bag slung over my shoulder and a copy of the damning news column clutched in one hand. Several pairs of eyes watched me make my way through the maze of cubicles. The newsroom was surprisingly bland; it could have been an accountant’s office.

Rounding the corner, I spotted him chatting animatedly with a co-worker who sat across from him.

He looked more the part of journalist now. At the party, he’d been wearing dark-wash jeans and a printed T-shirt. Though far from formal, he now wore a blue button-down shirt and gray slacks.

The grin on his face as he joked with the thin, pale-haired guy over a cubicle divider set my temper skyrocketing again.

My face grew hot, and I could feel my pulse pounding in my head. I’d
actually
believed he was a nice guy. As if I would catch the interest of a guy who looked like that.

He glanced in my direction, then did a double take. I sure had his attention now.

“Edie,” I saw him mouth to his colleague.

I walked up to his desk, and dropped my duffel bag on top of a pile of newspapers, press releases and old notebooks. It landed with a thud, and a couple of stray papers slid off the desk.

“So we meet again,” he said brightly, but his smile faltered at the expression on my face.

“Well, like you said. I figured out how to find you,” I said, brandishing a copy of the newspaper at him.

“Edie, I can tell you’re angry—”

“Angry? Me? Why would I be angry?” My voice rose above the chattering of reporters conducting phone interviews and the clicking of keyboards.

“Before you go off—”

“I am so far beyond angry, I have reached blinding fury,” I hissed.

The co-worker stared at us over his computer monitor, his mouth hanging open, but I didn’t care.

Nick’s eyes flicked to the bag on the desk. “That’s not a bomb, is it?”

There was an amused tone to his voice, and I realized my anger didn’t faze him at all. That, more than anything else, cut through my urge to yell. He was used to people yelling at him, and he was going to let it roll off his back and move on to the next story.

I stopped my tirade, and grabbed a vacant chair at another desk. I rolled it over and sat down next to Nick.

“You think this is a joking matter?” I asked, taking care to keep my voice as calm as possible. 

At last he had the decency to look flustered. He lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck in that aw shucks manner guys get when they’re not sure what to say.

“No,” he said.

“Let’s start again.”

“OK,” he said in a confused voice, shooting a look at his friend.

“You never told me you were going to print my story.”

“I did,” he said quickly. “I did, though I guess you were too drunk to remember.”

It was possible, but I didn’t believe him. I was drunk enough to lose my reservations and spill my frustrations to a cute stranger, but I wasn’t drunk enough to forget what we said.

“I don’t believe you. And I think it’s just as unethical to ask a drunk person that question as to not ask at all, don’t you?”

“Well. ...” He cast a look around as if hoping to be rescued by someone.

“Nick, do you know what your column has caused?”

He smiled. “Actually, people really responded. I got a lot of emails.”

“No. Do you know what it has caused to happen to me?”

“No,” he said slowly. His eyes darted over my shoulder, and I glanced back to see Lily walking up the aisle toward us.

I tensed, not wanting Lily to watch Nick shoot me down. He wasn’t showing much remorse. And knowing Lily, she’d only make me feel more like a naïve idiot, even if she was trying to help.

“Uh-oh,” he said. “It’s the overprotective friend.”

“I was right to worry, wasn’t I?” Lily said.

“What happened, Edie? Your parents’ mad?” he asked.

“You could say that.”

“I’m sure if you just talked to them—”

“Nick,” I said quietly, patting the duffel bag for effect, “this bag is not a bomb. It’s—” 

I sighed, unable to maintain the self-righteous tirade I’d been intent on delivering. “We had a fight about the column. I’m homeless.”

“What?” he exclaimed. “Well, that just goes to show. You should let me write another article—”

“No!” Lily and I both yelled.

Nick held up his hands in peace. “OK, OK, I won’t. Just calm down.”

He glanced around the newsroom and grimaced, probably because it was full of nosy reporters watching the scene unfold.

“What do you want from me, then?” he asked.

I glanced sidelong at Lily, and her gaze reassured me. I took strength from her resolve, and turned back to him.

“Well, as you heard, I’m homeless.”

“Yeah.”

“But, you have a home, don’t you?”

Nick was quick to catch my drift. He looked at me in astonishment, his dark blue eyes wide.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“You owe me, Nick. I need a place to stay, and you’ve got a place.”

“Uh-huh, and how do I know you wouldn’t kill me in my sleep?” he joked. No one laughed, and his smile faded. “Shit. You’re serious, aren’t you?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“Look, Edie, I’m sorry about your parents, but surely you have a friend” — he paused to look pointedly at Lily —“who could let you couch surf for a couple of days.”

“Actually, I don’t,” I said quietly.

He gave me a searching look, and then turned to Lily, but she didn’t give him any easy answers.

“That’s not the point anyway,” she said, taking on a confrontational tone I’d only managed for the first few moments of our interaction.

My gaze dropped while Lily let Nick have it, feeling both relieved and ashamed I didn’t have to be the one to say it.

“You screwed her over, Nick,” Lily said harshly. “She has no place to go, and she’s trying to save for college. What you did was wrong.”

He released a heavy breath. “Damn.”

I glanced up to see him running fingers through his hair in agitation.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, but come on. This is crazy. You don’t even know me. I could be a creep.”

“You better not be,” Lily said forcefully. “I know your name and where you work. I know that what you did is grounds to get you fired, or at least written up. So don’t even
think—“

“Whoa!” He held up his hands. “There’s no need for threats. Jesus.”

I nudged Lily’s side and nodded toward the exit. “Let me handle this. Can you please just wait in the car?”

Lily huffed, glowering at Nick, but conceded defeat. “Fine. But if he gets out of line at any point, I’m gonna skewer him.”

She jabbed a finger at him for emphasis, then turned and stalked out of the room, her blond ponytail swinging behind her.

“You two should take that show on the road.”

My face heated. “This isn’t funny. My
life
is a mess, and you’re making jokes!”

I turned away, unable to look at him. My blurry gaze took in the few people scattered through the newsroom, mostly focused on their computers. A few looked our direction, curiosity written in their expressions. Two big glass offices sat across the room, where I figured Nick’s editors and publishers worked.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Sorry. I know it’s not funny.”

“I could tell your boss,” I mumbled, still not looking at him.

I’d sent Lily away because she’d been on the verge of pissing him off beyond reason. I needed him to be sorry enough to let me stay, not defensive and angry. But now that she was gone, I’d lost my backbone.

“What was that?”

Nick stood and moved in front of me, bowing his head to look in my eyes. He was only a few inches taller than me, enough that we weren’t eye level naturally, but not so much he had to strain himself to meet my gaze.

He was close enough to kiss. Just a small lift onto my toes, and a slight tilt of his head, and we’d connect.

I took a step back. Kissing was not on the agenda, now or ever. Nick was gorgeous, and older, and currently more enemy than friend.

Reaching down deep for my resolve, I repeated myself more firmly.

“Give me a place to stay, so I don’t have to go to that big glass office over there.” I waved in the general direction of the offices on the other side of the room. “I don’t think your boss would like you doing interviews at parties where there’s underage drinking, do you?”

He looked past my shoulder to his buddy.

“Don’t look at me,” the pale guy said. “This is your mess.”

He turned his eyes to his computer screen and began tapping keys.

“Okay, I can see you mean business. So, if I agree to this, you won’t hold it over my head? We’ll be square?”

“We’re square,” I agreed.

He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face.

“I cannot believe I’m saying yes to this,” he muttered, and I felt the biggest smile break across my face.

I did it. I actually convinced him to own up to his mistake and make it right. It wasn’t until that moment I realized I never expected him to accept my proposal.

He pushed around some of the loose notes on his desk, lifting an extra copy of the newspaper and peering under it, until he found his keys. He grabbed them up.

I hoped his apartment was less cluttered than his desk.

He stood and swung my duffel over his shoulder. “Let’s go, then. I’ll drive you to my apartment.”

“Okay,” I said, standing to follow him toward the exit. I suddenly felt awkward now that I didn’t have an argument to win.

“I just hope my girlfriend understands,” he said.

I stopped short in shock. I’d never considered that possibility.

He laughed. “Just kidding. Had you worried there for a minute, didn’t I?”

I didn’t answer. I let my glare say it all.

NICK

The drive to my apartment was incredibly awkward.

Edie Mason had transformed back into the mouse I’d met at the party now that she didn’t have an argument to win. I wasn’t sure if I made her withdraw, or if she was naturally an introvert, but it didn’t do much to lighten my mood.

I’d rolled into the newsroom that morning with such a good feeling about the lonely graduate column. Tanya had given me the “well done” nod, about as close to praise as you ever got from her. A few reader emails also came in – the best praise of all – and I’d been giving myself a pat on the back.

Then my cellphone rang.

Elana’s name flashed on the screen, and just like that my pride swirled down the toilet as guilt took over. 

I’d sent her call straight to voicemail without answering, which resulted in Sean razzing me about being a player. He knew I screened a lot of my calls, but I wasn’t about to correct his assumption and explain why I’d been celibate more than a year.

Edie had strolled in with her ultimatum shortly after, so all in all, my good morning had gone into the crapper.

But I suppose in Edie’s eyes, that was no less than I deserved.

I glanced over as we pulled up to a stoplight, but she kept her face turned to the passenger window. Her posture screamed uncomfortable: shoulders hunched, arms crossed protectively over her abdomen, legs crossed.

“So,” I said.

For conversation starters, it was crap, but it seemed to do the trick.

She turned to me. “I’m not stupid, you know. I didn’t know you were related to Carlos. And with your eyes, you really don’t look that much like him.”

I squinted, not sure why we were talking about Carlos.

“I feel kind of bad, thinking of all that crap I said about him. I wouldn’t have if I’d known you were family.”

The memory resurfaced of our brief comments when we’d first met on the stairs.