Emancipating Andie (2 page)

Andie laughed, feeling a little more at ease. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll stay here while you go check it out.”

“You sure?” Colin asked.

She nodded reassuringly.

“Okay,” he said, leaning down and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “Get yourself a drink. I’ll be right back, okay? Two minutes.”

As the boys walked through the great room to the double doors leading outside, Sara turned to her. “He’s sweet. Always was. How long have you been together?”

“Um, we’re not officially…this is only the second time we’ve been out.”

“Oh?” she said, looking surprised before she quickly righted her expression.

“May I take your coat and purse, miss?”

Andie turned to see another man in a suit, one hand extended toward her, the other primly behind his back.

“Oh. I, um…yeah okay,” she said, tentatively handing him her jacket and bag and reaching for the numbered slip he handed her.

As he walked away, Andie glanced at Sara, who had an amused expression on her face. “Friggin’ coat check at your house. Can you imagine?”

She laughed again just as the sound of a phone ringing filled the space between them. Sara reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone, glancing at the screen.

“Shit. Sorry, I have to take this. If you want to grab yourself that drink, the bar is just around the corner,” she said, pointing toward the hallway.

“Okay, thanks,” Andie said, and Sara smiled before bringing the phone to her ear, using her hand to plug her other ear from the party noise. “Sara Daley,” she said as she walked in the other direction.

Andie took a breath and glanced around the room. Colin was right; for the most part, everyone was dressed the way she was, talking and laughing and seeming very approachable.
This might not end in disaster after all,
she thought as she exited the great room in search of the bar.

The hallway was huge, as wide as her living room, with tremendous arching doorways leading off into various other rooms. She tried not to look like she was snooping, but her eyes kept wandering of their own accord as she made her way toward the bar. Just before Andie reached it, a large, winding staircase came up on her right, leading somewhere downstairs. She could hear muffled voices and laughter and music, and she paused for a second, glancing down the stairs as several people walked back up with drinks in their hands.

Andie looked around for a moment before she turned to the right, starting down the wide staircase.

She was horrified at her own brazen behavior; she knew she should just turn around, go back the way she came, and wait for Colin. But her curiosity was uncharacteristically in the driver’s seat, overriding her conscience as her legs continued to carry her down the steps.

She wanted a peek. Just a quick one. There was no way she could bring herself to ask Colin for a tour of this place; it would only make her look nosy and intrusive.

As if sneakily exploring it on her own didn’t make her look that way.

You’ll be quick, Andie assured herself. No one needs to know that’s what you’re doing.

She just wanted to see the downstairs, and then she’d come right back up, get a drink, and spend the rest of the night with Colin, behaving herself and keeping her curiosity in check.

At the bottom of the staircase was another hallway, just a bit narrower than the one upstairs. The voices and merriment were louder now, coming from a giant game room at the end of the hall; arcade games and varied gaming tables—billiards, foosball, Ping-Pong, air hockey—along with the biggest flat-screen television she’d ever seen and a tremendous sectional couch occupied the expansive room. She lingered for only a moment, attempting to appear as if she were looking for someone rather than nosing around, and she noticed the home theater across the hall, complete with tiered rows of plush recliner seats and an extremely intimidating-looking sound system.

Andie shook her head in disbelief as she turned to walk back upstairs, stopping when she spotted a third doorway at the opposite end of the hall.
What the hell,
she thought. She’d already given in to her shameless snooping. When would she ever get to be in a house like this again?

She realized what it was before she even crossed the threshold: a wine cellar.

“My God,” she said under her breath as she reached the doorway. It was practically the size of her apartment; the walls were floor-to-ceiling shelves full of bottles, and in the center of the room were several more independent shelves, filled to capacity. There had to be hundreds of bottles.

She stepped into the cellar in complete awe, her eyes fixed on the soaring shelves bordering the entire room, nearly tripping over something underfoot. Andie looked down to see a small wrought-iron step-ladder on the floor next to the door, and as she lifted her eyes back up to the impossibly tall shelving, she bent to grab it, dragging it over to the nearest wall of wine.

Just as she was about to climb up and take a closer look, a loud slamming sound caused her to jump, and she whipped her head around to see the cellar door closed behind her.

“Crap,” she mumbled, stepping down off the stool. She walked back toward the door and twisted the handle.

Nothing.

Andie froze, her eyes widening for a second before pulling a bit more forcefully.

“No,” she whispered, twisting the handle the other way and trying again. “No, no, no,” she begged, leaning back on her heels and grabbing the handle with both hands, yanking back with the full weight of her body. The substantial oak door didn’t budge. It didn’t even squeak. “Oh God, please no,” she whimpered to herself.

The voice came from behind her.

“Well, that sucks.”

She screamed before he’d even finished his sentence, whirling around and flattening herself up against the door.

Instead of being startled by the ear-piercing shriek that ripped from her throat, he seemed amused by it. The corners of his mouth curved up in a smile as his eyebrows lifted ever so slightly.

Andie’s instincts kicked in as she felt the panic begin to swell in her chest. Locked in a cellar with a strange man at a party where she didn’t know anyone, where practically no one would be looking for her. Weren’t there scary movies that began this way? For all she knew, the room was probably soundproof. She felt a surge of adrenalin heat her veins as she kept her eyes on him, her back against the door.

“Did you think that was down there for show?” he asked, nodding toward the iron step stool she had dragged over to the shelves.

Andie brought her hand to her still-thudding heart. “I…I didn’t know…I’m sorry,” she said, reaching behind her with her free hand and twisting the handle again. The uneasiness in her chest was beginning to mix with embarrassment. “How do we get out?”

He shrugged indifferently. “We wait. Someone will probably be down here any second now after that scream.” He smirked as he added, “Nice pipes, by the way.”

Andie couldn’t help the frown that tugged at the corners of her mouth over his words. His lack of urgency bothered her. As did his flippant response. Not to mention the look he was giving her. It was a combination of amusement and condescension, that little smile still playing at his lips.

He was dressed much more casually than anyone she’d seen so far upstairs: jeans and an open button-down over a fitted T-shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was taller than she was, and while he didn’t look particularly bulky, she could see the definition of his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt. The cellar was too dim for her to pinpoint the color of his eyes, but she could tell they were light, and his hair, a sandy brown color, looked like it was in need of a cut; it flipped away from his forehead and the tops of his ears in little curls. As if he could read her mind, he ran his hand through it, tousling it in a way that made it look stylish instead of disheveled.

Whatever this guy was willing to do, waiting was not an option for her; there was no way she was going to sit in the wine cellar with this stranger until Colin came to rescue her and she had to fumble through some feeble explanation as to why she was in the wine cellar in the first place. She turned and twisted the handle again. This time, she pulled back on the door so forcefully that a guttural grunt escaped her lips, and she heard him laugh behind her.

Andie looked over her shoulder. “A little help would be nice,” she said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

“When that door sticks, you can’t open it from the inside. Hence the doorstop that someone chose to ignore.”

“Well excuse me for assuming a house like this would have functioning doors,” she snapped, irritated that he was mocking her. He didn’t even know her, for Christ’s sake.

He grinned at her and Andie turned, balling up her fist and banging sharply on the door. The muted thudding rang through the space just as a dull ache shot up her arm, and she dropped her hand to her side, flexing her fingers.

“No one’s gonna hear that, and you’re gonna hurt your hand,” he said, the amusement prevailing over the concern in his voice. “And for the record, I have no medical training. Although there’s plenty of wine, so I guess we could just get you drunk enough that you wouldn’t feel it.”

Ignoring his taunts, she turned around and used the flat of her other hand, banging again. Andie knew he was right; it was fruitless. No one would hear her, and she probably
would
end up hurting her hand, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of conceding.

“If you’re in such a rush to get back to the party, why don’t you just use your phone and call someone upstairs?”

Yeah, she could just see how that conversation would go.
“Hey Colin, it’s Andie. I locked myself in the wine cellar while I was snooping around your friend’s house. Can you come let me out?”
Besides, her phone was in her purse. And she had checked her purse upstairs.

Stupid, pretentious coat check.

Andie turned around, folding her arms. “If I had my phone with me, do you think I’d be standing here abusing my hands on this door?”

“Well I told you to stop, didn’t I?”

She shot him a look and he laughed again. “Relax. Trust me, someone will want more wine eventually,” he said, walking toward the first shelf in the middle of the room. He sat on the floor with his back against it, his feet wide apart and flat on the floor in front of him. He rested his elbows on his knees as he looked up at her.

“I’m Chase.”

Realizing that she very well might be trapped with him for a while, she figured it was probably in her best interest to at least attempt civility, even though he seemed determined to get under her skin.

“Andie,” she said before turning back toward the door and inspecting the doorknob, praying for some magic button that would set them free.

“Andie, huh? Interesting,” he said, and then after a beat, “So, Andie, are you a friend of Justin’s? Or Stella’s?”

She turned to look at him. The confusion must have been evident in her face, because he smiled slowly.

“Justin and Stella? You know, the people who are hosting this party?”

“Oh. No, I don’t…I’m here with Colin Tate,” she added by way of explanation, turning back toward the door and examining the hinge, trying to remember anything she could about the show
MacGyver
.

“Colin’s here?”

Andie spun quickly to face him, her eyebrows raised. “You know him?”

“Of course I know him.”

Yes, definitely in her best interest to attempt civility.

“Oh.”

A silence fell over them, and he smiled, running his hand through his hair again. “So, you and Colin? You guys are a thing?”

With a resigned sigh she gave up, walking away from the door and over to one of the shelves against the wall, sitting cross-legged in front of it. “Not a
thing.
We’re dating.”

“What’s the difference?”

Andie looked down with a shrug, feeling cautious since she had no idea how close he and Colin were. “It’s…new.”

“Ah. Haven’t decided if you’re gonna bang him and bail yet?”

She whipped her head up, an offended expression on her face, and he laughed, shifting his weight as he reached in his back pocket. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapping them against his palm and then glancing up at her from under his lashes as he held the pack out to her.

“No.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he held the pack to his mouth and removed a cigarette. “That’s rude, you know,” he said, the unlit cigarette wagging between his lips as he spoke.

“What is?” she scoffed. “Declining a cigarette?”

“No, that face you just made,” he said, pulling a lighter out of his pocket. “It’s like grimacing at someone’s food while they’re eating it.”

“Well, if the food in question killed the person eating it, or anyone within breathing distance of it for that matter, then I’d say it’s perfectly acceptable to grimace.”

He chuckled again as he held the lighter to the end of his cigarette, taking a long pull until the flame caught and the tip glowed orange. He put the lighter back in his pocket as he lithely pulled the cigarette from his lips with his thumb and forefinger, locking eyes with her as he blew the smoke out the side of his mouth, sending it away from her. “Just don’t breathe over there and I’m pretty sure you’ll survive.”

Attempting civility was getting more and more difficult by the second.

Andie began neurotically tapping her foot against the cemented floor. This guy was playing on her last nerve. Colin was probably back by now. He’d be looking for her. How would she ever explain this without looking like a complete idiot?

“Is that your natural hair color?” Chase asked suddenly, and her eyes flashed to his as an incredulous laugh fell from her lips.

“You’re gonna lecture me about being rude and then follow it up with
that?”

He shrugged, taking another drag of his cigarette. “It’s just an unusual combo. The blonde hair with the brown eyes,” he clarified, exhaling the smoke away from her again.

He wasn’t the first person to say that to her, but he was definitely the first to preface it by questioning its authenticity. Andie looked up to see him watching her, waiting for an answer.