“Well, I don’t have a boyfriend.” My hands shook, so I picked up my napkin and set it on my lap, securing my fists together. I glanced at his face for a reaction. Why was he watching my every move?
“How has it worked in the past? Your bodyguards go on dates with you?”
I bit my lip, nodded. His gaze slid to my mouth for a second. He shifted, reached for his water glass, drank, set it back down. “That’ll be interesting,” he murmured.
“Like I said, there isn’t anybody in my life like that. I can’t wait to be out… to go to college. How did you get done so fast?”
“I took AP classes. Like you, I was ready to move on to the next phase of my life.”
“Do you regret doing it all… fast?”
“Nope. I was ready.”
“Did you always plan on the FBI?”
He grinned. “Yeah.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the table. “It intrigues me. But, I needed to work some, first. Which brought me here.”
I bit my lower lip, smiled.
Again, Colin’s gaze slipped briefly to my mouth. He swallowed hard, shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
“Can’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend.”
Warmth rushed to my cheeks. I averted my eyes behind fluttering lashes, shocked at what he was saying to me.
Something in his eyes changed then, I wasn’t sure what I saw. A myriad of thoughts ran through my head: he was glad I didn’t have a boyfriend, happy to be working for Daddy, but at the same time not sure what to do from here. Fantasies, Ashlyn. You’ve read too many romance novels.
“Guys are idiots,” he said beneath his breath.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When I came downstairs Monday morning for breakfast, Colin was already in the kitchen, sitting at the island counter top. He wore dark gray slacks and a black V-neck sweater with a blue shirt beneath it. Hot.
His crisp gaze lifted to mine. “Hey.” I loved the rough cadence of his morning voice, the sound sent a buzz through me.
“Hey.”
I quickly poured myself some Kashi, soy milk and stared at the empty chair next to him. He caught my appraisal of where to sit, so I couldn’t go to the table at the window—I’d appear rude.
I sat next to him.
His jaw rotated with each chew, and the crackle of him eating his—Cap’n Crunch—made me giggle.
“What?” His eyes lit with teasing. “And could you chew the Cap’n and not make noise?”
I nodded.
“Oh yeah?” He held out his spoon, a pile of yellowy squares dripping with milk, poised at my lips.
His spoon. In my mouth. My cheeks warmed. Gently, he guided the spoon in and watched as I closed my lips around the cold sterling silver. “Chew.”
I motioned for him to remove the spoon, trying not to spill the contents all over us both in a laugh. He tugged on the spoon, removed it and I chewed. Slowly.
“Slow is cheating.”
“Is not.” I swallowed.
“The Cap’n is crunchy. That’s all I’m gonna say,” he said.
“How’d you rate getting Cap’n Crunch in our pantry? Mother would never allow me to buy that stuff.”
“She likes me better than you.” He wagged his brows.
“No doubt,” I snickered, and started eating.
Our chewing—his noisy, mine petite—broke the awkward yet truthful silence left behind after his comment. When we both finished, he took our bowls to the sink, rinsed them and handed them to me. I loaded them into the dishwasher.
The drive to Chatham was quiet except for the chat I’d come to expect between Colin and Eddy about the local news and Eddy’s continual bad luck at lotto. With Stuart, I’d plug my earbuds in and be done with it. That was impossible with Colin. He demanded my attention simply by being. I loved the lilt of his voice, the way he moved, his confidence, strength, his surety stole into the hollowness of my life. I didn’t feel as empty anymore.
We pulled up to the curb at school and Eddy opened the door.
Colin slipped on his dark glasses, waited while I hoisted on my book bag, then escorted me up the stairs through the hive of uniformed girls streaming into the building.
After the weekend, I was at ease with his protective gestures. In fact, I relished the stares and glances from my schoolmates, lifting my chin, hoping to send a message— he’s mine.
Danicka and her model friends stood just inside the doors. Had they been waiting for us? I looked at Colin, who spared the designer bunch a quick glance before his gaze returned to me.
“See ya,” he said.
“See ya.” I didn’t want to go. I wanted to hang with him all day.
Do anything. Everything. Just be with him.
I started toward the main hall, passing Danicka who stepped out from the circle of her friends and eyed me. “What happened Saturday?”
“I wasn’t able to stay,” I said. Then added, “Colin had other plans for us.” With a smile of satisfaction on my lips, I swiveled and headed to my locker leaving Danicka with her eyes bulging.
What do you think of that, Danicka? I swung open my locker door and stuffed what books I didn’t need for my first class inside. My reflection in the mirror hanging on the locker door was too pale for my liking. I quickly brushed on some MAC blush then jumped.
Felicity’s face popped up behind me.
“What? What? I’ve been in suspense mode all weekend. Tortured.
You’ve GOT to tell me! Did you go to Danicka’s party?”
“It was amazing. Not her. Ninety-Nine was super crowded and, kind of pathetic with all these older men. But what happened was amazing. You’ll never believe it, Fel, never.”
Felicity hopped up and down, squeeing. “What? And why did your Dad answer your phone?”
“He took it. But forget that. Saturday was like a scene out of a romance novel. Seriously.”
“O.M.G.” Felicity fanned her hands at her face. “I knew it. I knew it.”
“We danced.”
Felicity flattened herself against my locker in a dramatic gesture of a half-faint.
“But that wasn’t all. I can’t tell you every… thing…. not now. I’ll tell you at lunch.”
The bell shrilled.
“Cruel.” Felicity backed away from me, heading down the hall in the direction of her first class. “You’re cruel, you know that.”
I laughed, nodded.
Cruelty, like snobbery, was in my genes.
Was it wrong of me to want to eat lunch with Colin? After all, it was because of me he was at Chatham. I toyed with this idea from first period until the lunch bell rang. Classes blurred. Teachers once again inquired if I was ill.
Felicity met me at our usual corner at the top of the main stairs, fifth floor then we took the steps down. We passed the main foyer, and I didn’t see Colin. I borrowed Felicity’s cell phone.
“You just spent a dream weekend with him.” Felicity said, craning her neck searching for him. “That whole self defense thing was so hot and sexy, I started to sweat just hearing about it. He’s going to dig you texting him.”
“A dream for me. Work for him.” As fun as the weekend escape had been, even with the chastisement from my parents, he probably didn’t see Ninety-Nine—or our dance—like I did. But we had had a blast at the Spectacular. Hadn’t we?
“Invite him to eat with us. Maybe he’s one of those odd people who loves cafeteria food. My mom does. That and Chinese. Ugh.”
I gnawed on my lower lip. Fear of rejection finally convinced me to not text him about lunch or anything else. I dragged through the cafeteria line with my tray, plucking a mandarin chicken salad and Vitamin Water. Felicity stuck with her vegetarian panini, chips, and Pepsi.
We sat at a table next to the large windows that overlooked the cement courtyard of the front of Chatham. Danicka, for how skinny she was, was easy to spot—her and her pack surrounded—Colin.
My heart sunk. His tall form,
encircled by blue-blazers, plaid skirts and bare, never-ending legs caused me to nearly lose the first three bites of mandarin chicken.
“The skank.” Felicity, seeing my fixed gaze outside, gasped. “She’s making a move on him.”
What if Danicka asked Colin his version of what had happened Saturday? A sickening black sludge filled my insides. Danicka stood close to Colin, who had his dark sunglasses on, so I couldn’t see where his eyes were. But then, neither could Danicka. She flipped her ruler-straight blonde hair over her shoulders every five seconds, like she was in a shampoo commercial.
Colin’s dimples charmed, flashing coyly. What were they talking about?
“She’s done this millions of times and knows what to do and how to do it,” Felicity said. The weight of my romantic inexperience crushed me a little.
I slid my book bag over my shoulder, took my tray to the conveyor belt, and left the cafeteria. Felicity tagged along beside me, her panini in one hand, Pepsi in the other, chips tucked under her arm.
“Woohoo,” she squealed. “Boss is comin’ down on her man.”
“I’m not his boss, Fel.” Even though, technically, Colin did work for me. “And he’s not my man.” But I was working on it.
A large floor-to-ceiling mirror donned one end of the main hall. I checked myself out as we passed by. I looked just as good as Danicka in this uniform. I may not drip Juicy jewelry, but the uniform flattered my shape and my skin was clear.
Outside, the frosty air hurt with every breath. Why was Colin out here? I found him in the courtyard, still surrounded by Danicka and her friends.
“I’m so cold,” Danicka was saying, hugging herself as Felicity and I approached. “Can I wear your coat?”
Colin saw me. I broke through the circle of girls and hooked my arm in his. “Come on, we’re going out for lunch.”
He dipped his head near mine as we walked away. “Thanks. I owe you.”
“Have you eaten?” I asked. Over his shoulder, I saw Danicka and her friends waiting. Vultures.
He glanced at his watch. “Do we have time?”
“Fifteen minutes,” Felicity piped with a grin.
“Joe’s Deli is close.” I tugged his arm and the three of us started down the sidewalk in the direction of the restaurant.
“I could eat.” His lips curved up.
<> <> <>
Since he owed me, I had him take me to the bookstore again that evening. In my heart, I hoped we would spend more time sipping lattes and talking than skimming book shelves, but I didn’t want him to think I had an agenda.
“Charles wants me to stay with you,” he said after we entered the building. He shook away a light dusting of snow covering his pea coat.
Babysitting again? “I’m not going to take off,” I said. “I promise.”
He yanked off his knit hat and bunched it between his two hands while he tried to decipher whether or not I was telling him the truth.
“You believe me, right?”
“Yeah, I believe you. You’re not the partying type. And you’re not missing anything, trust me.”
“Are you the partying type?”
“Nope.”
“But you’re twenty-one.”
“Like I said, places like that—the people who hang there—
overrated.”
I liked imagining him as a person with class who knew better. If I didn’t go to another club again, with its sweaty bald gyrating men, I wouldn’t miss it.
No way was I going to browse romances with him standing over my shoulder. I opted for the young adult section instead. After a few minutes of trailing me, he started picking books from the shelves and thumbing through them.
I moved from one aisle to the next and continued browsing.
“Hey Ashlyn.” I froze. The voice belonged to Stuart. I turned around. He’d lost some weight in the weeks since I’d last seen him.
Thumbprints the color of bruises tattooed beneath his eyes spoke of lack of sleep. Grey shadowed his cheeks.
I shot a glance at Colin, a row over, his head down.
“You look… beautiful.” Stuart’s green eyes inched from my face down my body like a starved man.
“Did you… follow me here?” I asked, my gaze flicking from Stuart to Colin, his head still cast down—reading.
“Of course not,” he said. “We live in the same city, we were bound to run into each other.”
Stuart and I had come here often enough. I couldn’t rid myself of the edginess creeping over my skin. Still, he’d been my bodyguard for three years—I could talk to him and be cordial.
But the desperation in his eyes was difficult to see.
“Are… you okay?” I asked.
His hands moved in the depths of his overcoat. He blinked heavily. “Yeah. Thanks… for asking. Still reading romances?” He gestured to a row of books with a trembling hand.
“Remember how I’d smuggle them in for you? Does the new guy do that?”
My throat wouldn’t relax. I shook my head.
“Do you know what I used to do when we’d come here?” he asked. He stepped closer. “I’d stand over there.” He nodded toward somewhere at my left. I didn’t look. “And watch you. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, even to look at books. You’re so beautiful, Ashlyn.”
I swallowed. I’d caught him watching me on more than one occasion, and had been creeped out by it.
“Have you heard back from any schools?” he asked with urgency.
“ You’re still planning on going to college, right?”
“Yes, I am. Look, I have to go.” I left Stuart, rounded the corner of the aisle and joined Colin, engrossed in reading.
He looked up. The relaxed look on his face stretched tight.
“What happened?” He slipped the book back on the shelf and stepped close to me, touching my arm. I couldn’t believe he could tell—with just a look—that something was wrong.
“I—uh—ran into someone from school. Someone I don’t like very much.”
His pointed gaze skipped around the store for a second. “Did something happen?”
“No. Why?”
“You look a little pale. Want to get something to drink?”
The smile working its way onto my lips helped me to temporarily forget my run in with Stuart. I nodded.
We took the escalator up, his arm brushing mine when he stepped aside so a bookseller could hurry past us. Worries about running into Stuart invaded me. I’d grown up on the rightwing of suspicion. Daddy had told me statistically, you’re in danger if you see the same stranger more than three times.
Stuart wasn’t a stranger, but he wasn’t a friend either. Mother and Daddy would flip out if they knew I’d seen him. They’d never let me come to the bookstore again.
The escalator continued up, and I scanned the second floor. My heart rattled. Stuart stood near the exit, eyes locked on me as he walked out the door.
Your Presence is Requested
At the Annual
Holiday Season Celebration of
Charles and Fiona Adair
The Residence:
2029 Park Avenue, New York, NY
Black Tie.
R.S.V.P.
212.555.4935
CHAPTER TWELVE
The townhouse bustled with caterers and decorators preparing for the Christmas party. Two white trucks were parked out front, causing traffic on Park Avenue to slow, drivers peering at the mansion. Loads of delicacies and Christmas decor for the party were carried inside. Colin remained stationed at the front door to thwart any security disruptions.
Workers unloaded dozens of shrink-wrapped pine trees in all shapes and sizes. Each tree was then unwrapped, colored with white lights, bows, bulbs, and ornaments, each with its own theme.
Fresh evergreen swags, rich with the scent of pine and nutty cones, were hung over doors, strewn along three-stories of banisters, and dripped from sconces throughout the halls. Every year, the decorating teams worked faster than the last.
By the end of the day, the house was ready for Mother’s final inspection before the decorators were released.