had cut her off just as she was about to walk into the Excalibur Business Center that was owned by the Donovans, the headquarters of Infinity as well as DNM—Donovan Network Management. Now, Lyra wanted to get inside as quickly as possible. It was a secure building, she knew. Nobody was getting onto that elevator and upstairs without an ID badge or a phone call from the building’s security. Paula didn’t want to see any of the Donovans, that was for sure. Their relationship was not good, never had been, no matter how much Janean had tried.
“Don’t walk away from me, gal,” Paula said. Her Southern drawl usually came out when she was drunk or high—or some combination of the two—and when she was pissed off, which by now, Lyra knew she was.
A long time ago, Paula would ask Lyra for money—beg a little, cry for a couple minutes, and then Lyra would give her what she wanted. Then there’d be sloppy kisses, empty promises and quick goodbyes—a routine Lyra had grown to despise. But Lyra was done with that. If she counted the money she’d given her mother over the years, it would easily amount to a few thousand dollars. And that was nothing compared to all the money the Donovans had given her to stay away and leave Lyra with them. So part of the debt she owed this family was her mother’s. The other part was her own, and she was ready to start repaying it.
“Don’t threaten me, Paula. We’ve been there and done that. I’d think by now you’d know the limits.”
“You sure got a smart mouth. I bet if I come over there and smack the taste out of it, you’ll know who’s boss.”
The bright morning sunshine glittered over Paula’s fiery red hair, which was shaved close like a man’s. Leopard-print pants looked as if they were painted on her slim legs while the black shirt she wore slipped off one shoulder and hung loosely over a boyishly flat chest. She looked like she could have been about twelve years old. And if there had been a strong wind, she’d fall right over. A brief pang of regret touched Lyra’s heart at the sight.
“But that’s not going to happen now is it?” a masculine voice said.
Both their heads turned as Dion approached. Lyra instantly wanted to disappear. She hated for Dion to see her mother like this, to be reminded of where she came from.
“Well, looky here.” Paula tried to whistle but her two front teeth were missing so the sound was empty and produced more spittle than air. “You done growed up, boy.”
Dion only nodded at Paula then looked to Lyra. “Go into the building,” he told her. He could be such an arrogant ass at times. And other times he could be her savior. That was a role Dion always loved playing. Still, he should have known better than to think she’d just obey him.
“I’ve got this under control,” she said.
“No. I’ll handle it,” he countered.
“You her shining knight?” Paula asked, her speech slurring even more as she stumbled toward Dion.
Lyra rolled her eyes. Dion reached out a hand to catch Paula as she leaned into him but nearly missed him entirely. “I’ll call you a cab, Paula. Then you need to disappear. For good,” he said with a finality that made Lyra quietly gasp.
He was right, her mother needed to go. This was her job, her new life. She didn’t need or want her here.
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Paula said straightening herself up and flattening her palms on Dion’s chest.
He wore a suit today, a gray double-breasted Armani—Dion loved just about anything Armani—with a crisp white shirt and bold peach tie with tiny flecks of silver. The sight of her mother’s slim hands, bony wrists and veiny arms on him made her stomach churn.
Lyra stepped over, clasping her mother by the waist and pulling her away. “Just go, Paula. I’ll call you later.”
She didn’t miss Dion’s frown at her words, but chose to ignore them.
“I’ll leave when I get what I came for,” Paula huffed.
Lyra rolled her eyes skyward. This was not the way she wanted to start her first day at Infinity. Hell, it wasn’t the way she wanted to live her life. But silly her for thinking she had any control of that. “Here,” she said digging into the side zipper of her purse and pulling out the cash she’d stuffed there yesterday after tipping the cab driver who’d picked her up at the airport. “Just take it and go.”
Paula fingered the money and looked up at Lyra with a frown. “You call me later,” she said, then looked over at Dion. “You still sharp, boy—sharp as a tack. That’s why that girl’s trying to get you to put a ring on it.” Throwing her head back Paula laughed as she sashayed her pitiful backside out of the parking lot.
“She’s still guilting you into giving her drug money,” Dion said from behind as Lyra rubbed her fingers against her temples.
“This is an old conversation,” she said. Taking a deep breath she turned around and walked right up to Dion. “It’s not your concern. I can handle my mother.”
Dion nodded and fell into step beside her, heading to the double glass doors of the building. “By giving her whatever she wants so she’ll leave you alone. That’s a good way to handle her. It’s like feeding a stray cat because you don’t want to see it starve. It’s going to keep coming back, Lyra. I know you know all this already.”
Lyra reached for the door and yanked it open. “Then why do you insist on saying it over and over again?” she said, glancing over her shoulder before walking through.
Dion followed her inside. “Because you never listen,” he mumbled through clenched teeth. “She’s never going to leave you alone until you make her.”
Spinning around to quickly face him she asked, “And just how do I do that? How do I turn my back on the only family I have, Dion?”
He stopped cold, looking her dead in the eye. Then his voice lowered. “I thought we were your family.”
Lyra sighed. This was how this conversation always went with them. Dion told her what to do, she argued about it, then he made her feel like crap because deep down she knew he was right. “You don’t understand,” she said finally. “I just want to move on. I just want to do my job and live my life without all these problems clouding it.”
Dion started walking ahead, waving at the two guards who manned the front desk. Lyra followed behind him, waving at the guards, as well. They’d let her in because she was with him. Later today they’d get a memo from human resources with her name, a photo ID and the department she worked in. Tomorrow morning when she walked in alone, they’d smile and greet her just as they had Dion. That’s how it worked in the world of the Donovans, a world she’d tiptoed around in for most of her life.
“You don’t want problems, then deal with them, Lyra. Stop acting like the victim here, because you’re not.”
They were in the elevator now, a seething Dion standing beside her, briefcase clasped in both hands in front of him. She could smell his cologne, felt the waves of warmth as his scent wafted to her nose, down the back of her throat, into her chest, and downward until she was completely full of him.
“Stop acting like an asshole, Dion. Oh, I forgot, you can’t help that.”
He chuckled.
