Beneath These Scars

It wasn’t until the door shut behind him that I uncurled my hands from the fists they’d clenched into.

“HOW DID A STRAIGHT GUY learn to fold clothes so perfectly?” I asked my newest—and only—full-time employee. I’d hired him shortly after Elle had left me to work at Chains about six weeks ago.

Levi looked up from straightening a stack of Seven For All Mankind jeans, which were some of our only non-vintage items, and one of my weaknesses. “Does a guy have to be gay to know how to fold properly?”

I cringed at the stereotype. That was pretty shitty of me to say, so I backpedaled. “I’m just not used to guys being as neat and organized as you.”

Levi’s smile told me he wasn’t offended by my jerky comment. “Military school.”

“What? You?” I couldn’t picture the skinny dark-haired kid who fell firmly into the hipster category attending military school.

“Yeah. I was a little shit growing up. Apparently it was the best solution to straighten me out. It was a good experience, but one I’ll leave firmly in the past.”

His comment about leaving things in the past coincided with the chime jangling at the front door, and a piece of my past walking through it.

“You want to start steaming those dresses the UPS guy dropped off? In the back?” I asked Levi.

He glanced at the regal silver-haired woman who’d walked in—not the type you’d normally expect to see in the shop—then looked back to me and nodded. “Sure thing, boss. Yell if you need anything.”

I smiled at him, but it felt as fake as it probably looked.

As soon as he slipped through the door to the stock room and shut it firmly behind him, Geneviève came toward me, and I smiled.

Her bearing screamed proud matriarch, and that was exactly what she was. Tasteful diamonds decorated her ears and throat, accenting her Chanel skirt suit. I was guessing her destination was either a NOLA Garden Club meeting, or perhaps a Junior League luncheon.

I came around the counter and stopped before her.

“Yve, my dear. It’s been much too long.” She leaned forward, squeezed my shoulders, and air kissed both my cheeks.

Warmth spread through me. Her approval was something I still valued, even to this day. She was the only person from that part of my past I hadn’t desperately tried to block out.

“It’s a pleasure. I’ve missed you.”

She reached down and gripped my hand. “And I’ve missed you. You need to come visit an old lady more often,” she said, chiding me gently. “You never know when she’ll breathe her last.”

I laughed. “You’re going to outlive us all, Ginny.”

Anyone else would have gotten a sharp reprimand for calling the dignified woman by such an informal nickname, but I occupied a unique space in her life. I was the girl she’d taken under her wing when the rest of my life was falling apart, and I’d had nowhere to go. I’d been bruised, beaten, and alone. Geneviève had broken ranks with her family—in secret—to shelter and help me.

“You know I’ll try, dear.” She patted my arm. “But that’s not what I came here to talk about.”

The pleasant surprise of seeing her in the shop faded away when the purpose of her visit became clear.

“I know.”

“He’s going to be out soon, Yve. We need to talk about what happens next.”

The he in question was my ex-husband and Ginny’s grandson. The one who’d spent the last ten years in the closest thing there was to a cushy prison for rape. Not my rape—oh no, because his father had made certain any allegations that had come from me were discounted to the point that they were laughable. No, Jay had made the big mistake of targeting a woman whose father was a judge. Someone who would not allow his daughter or her accusations to be ignored.

Because money made the world go ’round.

“When exactly is he getting out?”

Ginny’s gaze dropped. “My son hasn’t seen fit to share that information with me, but soon.” She paused. “Are you sure you want to be here when he gets out? There’s no telling how he’s going to react to being on the outside again. His father and I can only do so much to keep him on a short leash. You know how he is.”

And I did know how he was. But I hadn’t let him—or his father—run me out of town before, and I wouldn’t let him now. Leave my friends? Dirty Dog?

The instant leaving Dirty Dog popped into my head, I cringed. I might be doing that anyway, whether I liked it or not. I was still trying to shove the thought out of my head as Geneviève kept talking.

“What if I helped you set up a shop just like this one, anywhere you wanted? You pick the city, and I’ll help you make it happen. It would be a fresh start, Yve.”

I snapped my attention back to the conversation. “What are you talking about? You want me to leave town, and you want to pay me to do it?”

Ginny’s expression softened. “You know I don’t want you to leave, but Jay’s release will stir up all the old gossip, and it’s going to get uncomfortable here. Not only for the family, but for you. I know you didn’t want to leave before, but you also haven’t moved on, Yve. Have you dated? Had a relationship? Is being in this city part of what’s keeping you from moving forward with your life and living it?”

Her words shot pangs through my heart, because she was right in some respects. It was quite possible I hadn’t moved on, hadn’t had a relationship beyond a fling that lasted a few nights, or a few weeks at most.