Read Overprotected Page 22

“What’s going to happen?”

  He took a deep breath, shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “I can’t not see Mother.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. But thank you for listening. And being here.

  I’m sorry about last night. I would never make you do something you—”

  “Ash, you didn’t make me do anything. This isn’t easy for me.”

  “It’s not easy for me, either.”

  He stepped close. “How am I going to resist you?”

  Nothing came to my head. The fire racing through me had gone full circle and burned words into oblivion.

  Colin. And me. Alone.

  “If I’m not going to school today, then what?” I rasped. The stark image of him on the couch made me think of returning to the scene of last night’s kiss.

  The kitchen walls suddenly seemed to close us in. The temperature spiked. He swallowed.

  “We should get out of here,” he said.

  I swallowed, nodded. “Let me get dressed.”

  I showered, put on underwear and slipped into the cloudy, soft robe hanging in the bathroom. Fingering my hair back, I reached for the blow dryer but froze when the raised voices of Dad and Colin struck the air like a bolt of lightning.

  I knotted the sash at my waist and opened the bedroom door.

  Dad and Colin stood nose-to-nose in the living room. Dad wore one of his pristine suits, his skin the color of his scarlet tie. He stopped mid-sentence when I entered.

  I folded my arms over my chest. “What’s going on?”

  We stood in starched silence.

  Dad glided over to me, glossing over the moment. “How did you sleep?”

  “You need to talk to Mother,” I said.

  “I’m on my lunch hour, and wanted to check on you. Colin’s going to arrange to have your things brought—”

  “Wait. You’re really moving us here? For how long, Dad? We can’t live here. We have a home.”

  “I’m not going to discuss this with you.” Dad placed his hands on my shoulders and I jerked out of his hold.

  “When are you going to stop treating me like a child? Go home and talk to Mother. Work this out.”

  The corner of Dad’s jaw knotted. “What’s happened between your mother and I isn’t your concern. That’s final.” He burned me with one, long glare and then turned and walked out the door.

  I let out a growl. “He’s so infuriating.”

  “You’ve made your feelings clear, Ash. This is their problem to solve, not yours.”

  “I know that,” I paced. And that was what frustrated me—that I couldn’t force them to care about each other enough to work through it.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Dad’s unwillingness to try and work things out with Mother clawed at me the rest of the day, leaving me emotionally shredded. I had a hard time even bringing myself out of the mire to enjoy being with Colin. I should have been elated.

  As we walked without aim, he kept a watchful eye on me. When we crossed a street, I felt the gentle pressure of his hand at my back.

  Inside, my anxiety for my parents built, the pressure causing my heart to burn.

  We stopped at a corner and Colin did his usually sweep of the crowds surrounding us when his head paused a moment, his gaze behind his black glasses aimed at something to our right.

  I followed his keen attention but saw nothing in the busy, five-o-clock pedestrian traffic. It always got darker faster in the city, the mammoth buildings and their shadows adding deeper abyss to the falling twilight.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  The streetlight changed and he guided me along with the crowd of people. My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I hoped it was Mother, I hadn’t heard from her since earlier, and I wondered how she was holding up.

  Felicity’s mother’s phone number appeared. “Hello?”

  “Where were you today?” Felicity asked. “You sick?”

  “Still haven’t found your phone?”

  “No. I’ve looked everywhere.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “I know. Sucks. So, what’s up?”

  I relayed what had happened. Felicity gasped. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, Ash. That sucks big time.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are they gonna try to make up? Or what?”

  “I don’t know. What did I miss?” I asked. The sound of cars honking and city noise filtered into the phone on Felicity’s end.

  “Danicka asked where you were. I told her you and Colin were taking a long lunch eating—something she and her friends might want to take up since—clearly—Colin is a man, and men like meat, dogs like bones. He’s there, right? Are you having a fabu time?”

  I glanced at Colin, hoping he couldn’t hear Felicity. “Well, kind of.”

  “I shouldn’t have asked. You’re worried about your mom and dad.

  Sorry. I miss you.”

  “Miss you, too.”

  “We’re heading to Chows. Surprise. Ugh. I expect you to do some serious damage to that boy while I’m dining on chop suey. Got it? I want a full report later.”

  I laughed and glanced at Colin, hoping he hadn’t overheard. “Oh sure, right. Bye.”

  “Felicity?” Colin asked.

  I nodded.

  “How did you meet?”

  “At Chatham. She makes that place bearable.”

  He nodded. “Gotta have friends like that.”

  The Ritz was on the next block. Colin whipped his ringing phone out of the pocket of his coat. “Yes, sir? We’re outside the building, actually. Yes. We can do that.” The lightness in his expression vanished.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Charles wants us to meet him for dinner at Solange in ten.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “In the hotel.”

  We approached the hotel with its gold and red striped awnings and massive planters filled with holiday Christmas trees decorated in jewel-bright bulbs.

  Colin whisked me past doormen who held the giant brass doors open for us.

  “I need to wash my hands,” I said. Walking through the city demanded a thorough scrubbing before eating, something Mother had taught me. Colin stood outside the bathroom door and waited for me.

  The bathrooms were Italian marble from floor to ceiling. I washed my hands and made sure my hair wasn’t windblown, my makeup was fresh and I spritzed a spray of one of five complimentary perfumes sitting on an ornate glass tray.

  “Ready?” he asked when I came out of the ladies room.

  I nodded. He escorted me down a hall and back through the large lobby, bustling with travelers, bellmen, and other hotel employees. Guests lounged in comfortable tuxedo-style couches.

  Some guests read, others chatted.

  We crossed the lobby to another wide hall and ventured down the long, mirrored vestal until the scent of garlic, onions, and fragrant herbs filled the air. Solange was packed with men in suits and ties, a handful of women dressed in dresses, suits, or sleek designer wear.

  Colin and I exchanged glances, both of us seeming to think the same thing: we were out of place in jeans and casual sweaters.

  The maître d’ escorted us to the back of Solange, where we found Dad still in his suit, his cell phone at his ear. He grinned and waved us over. Dad brought me against him in a side-hug and my spine stiffened.

  Both Colin and Dad reached to pull out my chair. A half-second of sticky heat held Dad’s and Colin’s gazes together. It was Colin who finished the gentlemanly gesture, and I sat, cheeks warm.

  “I’ll call you back,” Dad said. Conversation ended, and he slipped his phone into the front pocket of his suit jacket. He sat across from me, Colin next to me. A low, lemon light glowed from a miniature lamp centered on the gold table cloth.

  “Hungry, Princess?”

  I sighed. “I’ve asked you not to call me that.”

  He opened his menu, but his gray eyes held m
ine. “I apologize.”

  Dad rambled about the dinner choices but all I could think was his familiarity with the menu was directly linked to his familiarity with the hotel because of his infidelity to my mother.

  To our family.

  My appetite died.

  “That sounds good.” Colin closed his menu when I tuned back into the conversation.

  “How about you, Ashlyn?” Dad didn’t blink when he said my name.

  “Whatever.” I dropped the menu on the table and propped my elbows on the table edge—a dining faux pas Mother would have punished me for if I’d been a younger. Dad’s lips curved up, slight amusement flickering in his eyes.

  “So, you missed school today,” Dad said. “What did you do?”

  “I spent a lot of time wondering what the hell you’re doing,” I said.

  Dad stiffened. Next to me, Colin shifted. Dad’s fake cheery demeanor hardened to marble. He clasped his hands on the table, but didn’t take his gaze from mine. “I understand your confusion.”

  “Try contempt.” I tossed my napkin down.

  “Let’s order before we discuss the matter and thereby begin the process of indigestion,” Dad said with a forced smile. I didn’t appreciate his attempt at humor, and crossed my arms over my chest. Colin sent me a glance. Handle this like an adult, I thought and I uncrossed my arms and set them in my lap like I’d been taught.

  The waiter returned to our table with a nod at Dad. “Drinks, sir?”

  “Bring me a scotch—straight.”

  The waiter turned to Colin. “And for you, sir?”

  Colin shook his head. “Water, thanks.”

  “Miss?”

  Dad piped, “She’s not—”

  “I’ll take a virgin strawberry daiquiri, please.” I flashed a smile.

  With a nod, the waiter disappeared.

  “Now, to answer your question,” Dad began. “Your mother and I are separating.”

  The muddled sound of dozens of nearby conversations, and the far-off clank of dishes filled the silence now sitting between us.

  “Would you like me to let you two talk alone?” Colin asked.

  Dad waved a hand, then loosened his tie a notch. “You’re fine.

  I’m sorry this has come out like this, Ashlyn.” Dad’s voice was soft.

  His eyes seemed sincerely remorseful and stayed hooked to mine.

  “Sometimes, relationships are irreparable.”

  My heart sunk. “I see.”

  “I don’t know what your mother has told you, or what she will tell you, but there are always two sides to a story.”

  Left wordless, I nodded.

  He reached a hand out and laid it over mine for a brief moment, the contact shooting countless memories of him holding me, soothing me, caring for me through the years. Disappointment surged with sadness and I swallowed a surge of emotion rushing up my throat.

  “Are you sure you can’t work things out?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

  Dad squeezed my hands. “Positive.”

  Sadness veiled his face for the first time since the topic was opened, but I wasn’t sure if he was sad because of the failure or because I knew about it.

  “You really don’t love her anymore?” I asked.

  In my peripheral vision, Colin shifted and lowered his head.

  Dad held my gaze without a blink. “Like I said, there’s a point where a relationship is beyond repair.”

  Empty inside, my appetite had vanished along with every other emotion except gouging shock. It wouldn’t matter what I said, this disintegration had begun long before my voice carried enough weight to sway the outcome.

  Dad laid a hand meant to comfort on my shoulder. “This is for the best, you’ll see.”

  “Why didn’t you try to work things out before it was too late?”

  The waiter, carrying a tray, arrived at the table and delivered Dad’s scotch and my daiquiri. Dad thanked him and tipped back the entire drink. Glass empty, he set it on the table, staring at it. “We waited too long.”

  Emotions threatened to flood my throat and eyes. “May I be excused?” I set down my napkin.

  Colin stood.

  “I’m just going to the ladies room,” I said.

  Colin’s gaze held on Dad’s for instruction. Dad’s attention flicked from me, to Colin, back to me. He nodded. Slowly, Colin lowered back into the chair.

  Sorrow echoed deep down in my heart for Dad. For Mother.

  For us.

  Alone, I wove through the dining room. For the first time I was by myself in public—with Dad’s blessing, and I couldn’t enjoy it, not with my parents’ marriage crumbling. Realistically, I figured they would be happier going different directions, rather than continuing to live a farce together. Still, deep down I hoped they could live happily ever after.

  Happily ever after was the farce.

  Though I figured Dad would send Colin to trail after me, I meant to take a deep breath and return to the table in a timely manner so Dad could see that he could allow me freedom and believe that everything was going to be okay.

  Once I entered the lobby, my cell phone vibrated. I half expected it to be Dad. But it was a text from Felicity.

  U found u r phone, yay

  Why was she texting me in caps?

  WHERE R U I NEED TO TALK NOW

  What happened?

  STUFF. CAN I SEE U?

  k. I’m at the Ritz.

  MEET ME IN THE LOBBY IN 5

  I shot a glance around the room, didn’t see her in the bodies coming and going.

  On my way

  LET ME KNO WHEN U R HERE

  I headed for the same bathroom I’d used on my way in. I really hadn’t needed to use the bathroom, I just wanted to take a breath.

  Now, I looked at my reflection, pleased that I’d stuck to my guns.

  Venturing back to the lobby, I stood against a wall, inconspicuously, so I could watch the front entrance for Felicity. What had happened? Just short of an hour ago she’d been on her way to dinner with her parents. Felicity was bright and bouncy as a balloon, loose in the sky. I hoped whatever was going on wasn’t that bad.

  I gnawed on my lower lip, my nerves ticking the time I’d been away from the table. Dad or Colin would come after me any second.

  My hands were clammy. I was nervous for no reason. I was inside the hotel. Dad and Colin were only a few feet away. There were lots of people around. Relax.

  My cell phone vibrated again.

  CAN’T COME IN

  why not?

  I LOOK LIKE CRAP MEET ME OUTSIDE K

  My nerves ratcheted up a notch. where r u?

  SIDE ENTRANCE NORTH.

  I looked north in the lobby and saw a hall. Figuring that must be the area she spoke of, I crossed to it, smiling at the steward who’d brought our luggage up to our rooms the day before. The hall was large, long and had a few chairs scattered along the walls for reading or waiting.

  The hall ended in a T formation: one direction heading back into the hotel, the other an exit that let out to a side street.

  No doormen were stationed at this entrance because you had to have a room card in order to enter. Heart skipping, I opened the door. Twilight had submitted to completed darkness, and the only light in the immediate area were those beneath the striped canopy hanging over head.

  I poked my head out and looked left. Cars lined the street. The nearest had its parking lights on at eerie glow. “Fel?”

  I held the door open, because I didn’t have my purse—I’d left it on the chair, back in the dining room—when my phone vibrated again.

  Felicity. WHERE R U

  at the entrance where r u?

  I stepped onto the sidewalk, hand still on the door and a gloved palm wrapped around my mouth, the scent of leather filled my nose.

  Another hand snatched and locked me against a solid, strong male body. A soggy cloth with a sickly stench was shoved over my nose and mouth. Everything went black.

&nb
sp; My lids dragged open to near darkness. The pounding through my head felt like a jackhammer. I tried to move but my hands and feet wouldn’t budge. Panic stuttered through my limbs.