Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(59)
He glances at me, the wheels obviously turning in his head before he shakes it. “Sorry, Sal. Wish I could help you out.”
“But you won’t.”
I place Lana’s keys on the counter. “The car outside that needs fixing is Alana’s. Take a look if you don’t believe me.”
His graying brows pull together. “It is? Why didn’t you start with that?”
I roll my eyes and tell him to pick the best tire. He disappears with Lana’s keys before coming back ten minutes later to let me know that her other three tires are bald and her oil needs to be changed. I give him the go-ahead to fix whatever he thinks is necessary for her and Cami to be safe. He gives me a weird look before disappearing back into the garage.
Two hours later, I drive away from the shop with a bill that’s a mile long and a lightness in my chest that hasn’t been present for days. The drive back to the house is quick. I pull into the driveway and park Lana’s car in her usual spot before ringing the doorbell.
She steps out, clutching my keys with a tight fist. Based on her clenched jaw and crossed arms, things aren’t going well for me, regardless of the fixed car.
She takes a deep breath. “I got your note. You didn’t have to do that.”
“It was the least I could do after yesterday.”
“Well, thank you.” She says it low, as if admitting her appreciation aloud would have a greater impact.
“It’s fine. I had the mechanic change the other three to match because I didn’t want you driving around in the rain with stripped tires.”
“You did?” Her eyes flicker from the car to my face.
“Yup. Also, he went ahead and changed your oil and swapped your wipers out for new ones too.”
She covers her mouth.
Uncertainty drives me to ask, “Is that fine?”
She nods, her glassy gaze still fixated on the car.
I hand her the keys. “Well, I’ve taken up enough of your day.”
We swap keys. Her fingertips brush across the palm of my hand, and electricity passes over my skin.
“Thanks. That was kind of you to help me with the car.” She disappears behind the door before I have a chance to answer her.
I didn’t expect much from her after last night’s incident, but part of me still wished for more. More what exactly, I’m not too sure. All I know is that my confidence from earlier is replaced by a new wave of emptiness. Except this time, I choose not to drown it with alcohol. It’s a self-induced punishment I accept wholeheartedly, knowing it is my fault Lana is upset in the first place.
That night I don’t go to bed drunk and numb. Instead, I go to bed alive and angry at my grandfather for putting me in the exact situation I knew would happen if I stuck around the last time.
I can’t replace the vase I broke. It’s a useless effort to even try, but I head out Sunday morning to the local mall an hour away from the lake with the hope of finding something to make up for my drunken accident.
Finding a vase is easy. The selection is endless, and I choose the nicest, most expensive one. Lana won’t care about the price tag, but maybe my effort won’t go unnoticed.
While the cashier is carefully wrapping my purchase so it won’t break, I walk around the rest of the store. A bright cherry-red standing mixer on a high shelf catches my eye. I think of Lana and her rickety old hand mixer that is on its ninth life before calling over the associate and asking her to charge the item to my card.
I’m not looking to buy Lana’s forgiveness.
I’m looking to buy into her dream, even if she doesn’t anymore.
Since Lana took my key away when I was drunk, I have to ring the bell and wait for her. At some point, I place the heavy standing mixer on the porch and bounce on the tips of my toes while she takes her sweet time answering the door.
It creaks open, and she blinks up at me. “What do you want?”
“I came to make amends.” I hold out the bag with the vase.
“With gifts?” She frowns at the bag.
Safe to say gifts aren’t a part of her love language.
My hope dies along with any excitement about the mixer. I step in front of the bag before she can see it while still holding out the other that contains the vase. “I know I can’t replace what I broke, but I wanted to get you a new vase anyway.”
She doesn’t reach for it. “What’s the point?”
“I’m trying to fix a problem I caused, not start more of them.”
“Then fix what actually matters here, and spoiler warning, it’s not the vase.”
“I…” I lose the rest of my sentence.
“What was the point of going back to rehab if you were only going to start drinking again?”
My heart feels like someone split it apart with the jaws of life. “I had lost my reason for getting sober in the first place.”
Her brows furrow. “What? Money? Hockey? The will to live a normal life?”
“You, Lana. I lost you.”
24
ALANA
I shake my head hard enough to make my vision blurry. “You don’t get to stand here and blame me for your addiction.”
He clasps on to my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “I’m not blaming you. I’m just being honest about what happened the last time.”