Chapter 103
Stacy undid his own apron. “Can I take a quick break? Just like five minutes or so, get some fresh air. I’ll be back when she leaves.”
“Sure.” At the swinging doors, Darian looked back to give Stacy a salacious wink. “When you get back, we can pick up where we left off.”
Stacy laughed. “Sounds like a plan.”
He waited until Darian pushed through the doors into the main room, then headed out the back door, shutting it carefully behind him so it wouldn’t slam. Only once the latch caught did he remember the wooden block inside the shop, but he’d just come back in through the front. Quickly he headed for the far end of the building, stepping around half-empty garbage cans and discarded pallets as he dug through his pockets for change.
At the corner he turned, keeping close to the building and out of the high grass that skirted the lot. Once he reached the other corner, he took a moment to peek out around the front—if Darian was already outside, seeing James off, Stacy didn’t want his boss to see him at the phone. Then he’d want to know who he was calling, and why he was so secretive about it. Because I’m calling Ange,Stacy thought, glancing down the empty sidewalk that faced the strip of stores. Only two cars sat in the parking lot, that bitch’s flirty little Neon and Darian’s truck. Because somehow I don’t think calling a fuck buddy will fly with the guy I’m trying to get withHe almost laughed out loud. No, you think?
When the door to Druck’s didn’t open, Stacy came around the building and headed straight for the pay phone. For a brief moment he wondered what he’d do if it didn’t work, but when he picked up the receiver, the glorious sound of a dial tone filled his ear. Turning his back to the cars and the shop, he fed the phone some change and dialed home.
After two rings, a groggy male voice answered. Cal. “‘Lo?”
Stacy hit the hookswitch without thinking. It was Sunday, of courseCal would be home. He should’ve realized that before he dialed. Fuck
His heart hammered in his chest, spurred by the sound of Cal’s voice. A quick glance over his shoulder showed that he was still alone, so Stacy inserted a few more coins and dialed Ange’s number. Again, he waited while the phone rang, and then Ange answered, “Yo.”
With relief, Stacy sighed, “Ange, thank God—”
His friend cut him off. “Miguel, I can’t talk now.”
“Miguel?” Stacy asked, confused. “No, this is Stace—”
“Can you call me tonight?” Ange’s voice was distant, not the intimate purr that Stacy had hoped to hear. “I gotta work ‘til nine but hey, any time after that’s fine.”
Nothing in his voice suggested that he knew it was Stacy on the other end of the line. Miguel…“Is Lamar there?” Stacy asked, his voice barely a whisper. Oh Jesus, oh shit, that explained Ange’s disinterested tone, his reluctance to talk. “Listen, I just wanted to tell you I’m okay—”
“Tonight,” Ange said again. “I got some amigoshere at the moment, then I gotta work, but esta noche, entiende?” Before Stacy could reply, he added, “Adiós, monada.” The phone went dead in his ear.
That monadatold Stacy Ange knew it was him. He wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but Ange had called him that before. A term of endearment of some sort…and how the hell was he supposed to get away tonight to call again? After nine they’d be back at Darian’s house, just the two of them, with no little boy to distract Darian while Stacy snuck away to use the phone.
Thank God Ange had answered—if it had been Lamar? The second Stacy hung up without speaking, he’d know who it was. He’d hit *69 just to cuss him out. The fact that he was even overat Ange’s when the two of them barely got along was enough to scare Stacy. It meant Lamar still held out some hope that Stacy would show up looking for a place to crash, and he planned to be ready. For what? To kick his ass? Drag him back to the apartment? Under his breath, Stacy muttered, “Fuck no.” He lived in that hellhole long enough. No way was he going back, ever
He glanced behind him but the two cars were still sitting in the lot, alone. Fishing more change from his pockets, he plugged it into the phone and dialed home again. When Cal answered this time, he sounded more alert. “Who is this?” he growled.
Stacy struggled to keep his voice even. “Stacy. My mom there?”
“Who?”
“My mom. She there?”
For a moment, he didn’t think Cal would answer. Then with a self-satisfied laugh, he drawled, “Well, Stacy. Never thought I’d hear from you again.”
Stacy sighed. This was a bad idea. Still, he tried once more. “Is she there or not?”
Cal started to speak, but the phone was wrested from him and then Stacy’s mom was on the line. Concern laced her words. “Stacy, that you?”
Something in him loosened, and he blinked back sudden tears. “Yeah,” he whispered. “It’s me.”
His mother covered the phone with her hand, but he still heard her muffled tirade as she laid into Cal. “Don’t you evertry to keep my boy from speaking to me, Calvin Jones! You hear me?”
“Mom?” Stacy asked, cautious. He glanced around—still no sign of Darian, but how much longer could Lynnette possibly take? She’d be out any minute, James in tow, Darian following behind them, and when he saw Stacy at the phone…“I can’t talk long, Mom. I just wanted you to know I’m no longer at Lamar’s.”
His mother came back to the phone. “What? Where are you?”
“With a friend.” Before she could question him further, he added, “Not Ange or Colin. Someone different. Someone you’d like, Mom, I just know it. He’s smart and really good to me. You’d love him.”
An icy silence filled the connection. When his mother spoke again, her words were short, clipped. “It’s that teacher, isn’t it?”
“Mom—”
She cried out, “Stacy!”
He should’ve known she would take it the wrong way. A dull anger rose in him and his voice hardened. “It’s not like that, Mom. Listen to me! He’s letting me stay in his guest bedroom, all right? I’m not fuckinghim.” Silently he added, Not yet.