Page 50 of New Girl in the City
I thought about my next words carefully and then asked him. “What happened that made it like that?”
Liam was silent. He’d taken a bite of his taco and was chewing now. He swallowed and reached for his beer. “Parents died. Car wreck. I was eighteen when it happened. She’s a freshman in college now. It’s good now but was hard then. I started fighting when I realized waiting tables like I’d been doing wasn’t enough to keep a little girl in all the little girl shit she needs, especially when that little girl thinks she’s a fashionista. Lora had me buying every damn pair of lace socks, or,'' he waved a hand and took another drink of his beer, “every last hair bow she saw. Had to learn how to braid hair. Thank god for the internet.”
I laughed thinking about Liam trying to manipulate hair with his big hands. What it might have been like, him buying dresses and making a face at frilly socks while he watched hair tutorials.
“And you started fighting to give her what she needed? And you’re still doing it?” I asked, latching on to the way he referred to it in the present tense. This didn’t feel like something he’d given up.
He nodded. “Yeah, college isn’t cheap. The fights I’ve been getting help pay her tuition. All she has to cover is books, and her dorm.”
“Where does she go?”
“Juilliard.”
“Wow, that’s,” I shook my head and gave him an amazed smile, “that’s extraordinary, Liam. You must be so very proud of her.” Juilliard meant a hefty tuition, much larger than was normal. I was in shock that Liam’s fights managed to pull in that kind of money. I wondered then how much driving earned him if he was willing to do it all, especially if he was making that kind of cash fighting.
“I am. She’s an incredible dancer. It’s her dream and she deserves it.”
“Does driving help at all? Money wise, I mean?”
He nodded, eyebrows up as he drank his beer and said, “I make more than enough to cover living expenses and bills. Get her something nice when she needs it. I’m saving too. This job driving you is a cushy gig. Walter had it made after working for the company for 40 years. He made sure I got it. Knew we’d fit, that I’d keep it professional. Keep you happy too. He made sure I got the same rate he did for driving you.”
I wanted to ask what that was but knew I shouldn’t. I kept my mouth shut and nodded along listening to him.
“What does your sister dance?”
“Ballet. She started when she was four, kept dancing, helped keep her head on straight after losing our parents. I’m going to make sure she never has to stop dancing either.”
“And that’s why you fight.” I said, turning my glass round in my hands. Behind us the door to the restaurant opened and shut, the bell above it jingling. I watched Liam’s eyes dart to it, tracking whoever had entered the building briefly before he looked at me again. I didn’t miss the subtle change in his posture. He was alert, ready to move if he needed. I wondered if it was his years of fighting that had him like that.
Would this man ever be able to relax? What would he be like when he didn’t need to fight? Would he ever stop?
“Yeah, it is. But this shit has a way of getting in your blood. I’m used to it now. I train. I fight. I drive. It’s a routine. I’m good with routines. It’s not too dangerous so get that look off your face, Princess.”
“What look? I don’t have a look on my face,” I protested, but he wasn’t buying it. I’d totally had a look on my face while wondering how fighting had changed him. Wondering what a Liam that didn’t fight, didn’t need to, might look like.
“It’s all fine. I don’t take fights that are risky. I take ones I got a chance at,” he explained. “I’ve been doing this for too long to let the shit get kicked out of me too badly.”
When I gave him a dubious look he chuckled and sipped his beer with a shrug of his shoulders. “Alright, life is a calculated risk. This is the same thing, Mel.”
“Sure, it is,” I sighed and picked up another taco. “I’m not against you fighting. I get why. You have reasons.”
“Reasons?”
“Yes, reasons. Everyone has “reasons” whenever they do something risky and yours are big. Your sister is a big reason.”
He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she is. She’s every reason.”
“I get it,” I told him, though I was an only child. I swallowed hard before continuing on, “I mean, I think I do.” I didn’t have many people that were close to me. It had been hard to let those walls down. My family was more of a hands-off sort of brood. We were happy when we got together, but a lot of the time it was ‘out of sight out of mind’ when it came to the Pérez family. I didn’t mind it much. It made things a little easier seeing as my mother wasn’t the most maternal. I had good friends that I could lean on.
“I got a fight tonight,” he said. I was broken out of my thoughts with a half laugh that startled even me.
“A fight?” I asked, nervous laughter coming out of me again.
He nodded and drummed his fingers against the table. “Yeah, big one too. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to tell you after yesterday.”
My lips tingled at the memory of yesterday, and just like that it was like I was tasting him on my lips again. I rubbed a hand across my mouth and his eyes followed the movement. He was remembering too. I smiled at him.
“I wanted to wait to tell you, if I ever did,” he explained. “And then yesterday happened and I knew I had to tell you. I knew I couldn’t stay away from you and if I’m going to do this with you, I want you to know all of me. That includes fighting.” He suddenly had a nervous look on his face that I wasn’t used to seeing.
