“Okay,” he chuckles. “But, we’re only delaying it until you get back. Don’t make any plans after work.”
He releases my hands and brings them around my front with his, wrapping me tightly, before kissing my cheek. “I’ll call Jack and have him ready to take you.”
“Thanks. Will you be here when I get back?”
“Am I on a promise?”
“Yes,” I giggle.
“Well, then I’ll be here.”
“I think maybe you just want me for my body,” I joke, breaking away from him to finish getting ready for work.
“Nope, I want you for your mind too. You might think you have me fooled that you’re innocent, but underneath that sweet exterior, I’m convinced there’s a minx.”
“Oh really?” I raise my brow in his direction, and focus on putting my mascara on while he calls Jack.
“You want me to call Beth and tell her you’re on your way?”
“Nope, it’s fine. I’m just about ready,” I say, pushing the final pin into my hair. “How do I look?”
“Edible,” He replies.
“No! Do I look good enough for the boutique?”
“Ari, you’ll knock ‘em dead, Stunner,” he says seriously, which warms my heart. Every word from his lips builds me up from the inside. Every encouraging smile that he flashes my way, gives me a little more confidence, and encourages me to be the best I can be, for myself. It’s a world away from the way Jonny made me feel weak and worthless.
“Right. Good. Okay,” I chant to myself.
“Ari, I …” He pauses and it’s like the air stands still. He’s wrapped a towel around his waist but is still standing in front of me in pretty much nothing, giving me a look. I think he’s about to say those three little words. Words I think he feels, but that I’m not ready to hear yet. Not by a long mile, even if it’s the way we are heading “I know you’ll be great.”
I release the breath I was holding and reward him with a smile. I’m relieved he didn’t say it. I don’t want him to. Not yet. I don’t want to ruin the way things are and those words, well, they’re not needed to express how we feel.
“Okay, I’m going.” I pick up my clutch, and press my lips tenderly to his cheek. “Is Jack downstairs? “
“Yes, he’s waiting in the lobby. Adam will escort you down, and Dan will be with you at the boutique.”
“Oh, yes. The commandos. I forgot about them. Can’t you just let them have the time off while I’m at work?”
“Arianna,” he sighs. “We’ve been through this. He won’t be visible. He’s not going to be glued to your side or making your job difficult. He’ll be outside just keeping an eye on things. Please. For me?” He eyes me hopefully, and I can’t say no.
He sees me into the safe hands of Adam, who in turn passes me over to Jack. We exit the building, and Dan follows close behind.
“Miss Fraser, the car is just over there, if you’d like to follow me.” Jack announces formally.
“Jack, please call me Arianna.”
“Very well, miss.” He stutters as he corrects himself. “Arianna.”
I smile and shake my head at him. He’s so formal. So accommodating, and from what I’ve seen, he’s so patient with Denham. There seems to be an odd affection between the two of them, and I make it my mission to crack Jack open just a little bit to find out some funny stories about Denham. I bet he has loads. He smiles back politely, and continues to walk toward the car.
A black Mercedes with blacked out windows approaches at speed, just as Jack opens the door for me to enter his ride. We all turn to look, and commando jumps next to me. Blocking me with his whole body.
The back passenger door of the Mercedes flings open, and a girl falls out on to the street. She has wild dirty blond curls tumbling around her, and looks to be wearing what I would say is last night’s clothes. A black dress that looks dirty and tights that are ripped and laddered.
She really does look a mess.
As soon as she’s clear from the car, her purse is tossed out, and the door is slammed shut. The Mercedes flies off as fast as it pulled up.
The girl tries to get up but stumbles, and falls back down, grazing her elbow. I’m unsure if she’s still drunk as she doesn’t look very coordinated. But, not one person has stopped to help her. I push commando out of the way to go to help her. He grabs my upper arm hard and fast, and I wince before shooting him a warning glare and snatching my arm out of his grip.
I rush over to the girl, who’s now sitting with both legs at different angles, and her head hanging limply down, almost as though it’s too much effort to hold up. When I crouch and pull back the curtain of matted curls, I gasp.
It’s Tara.
“Shit.” I yell, “Jack! Get Denham. NOW.”
She’s in a real state. She looks up at me, her muscles are uncoordinated and her head rolls from one shoulder to another while she tries to focus, she tries to blink but finds it too much of an effort and her vacant eyes open slowly, but she’s not really seeing a thing. Her makeup is smudged down her cheeks, and it makes me want to cry to see her like this.
“What have you done, Tara? Tell me. Is it drugs? What drugs?” I ask her anxiously, stroking her hair from her face. She’s unable to answer, her coordination doesn’t allow her to form speech, and I’m not even sure if she recognizes me.
Jack and commando pick her up carefully, and try to set her on her feet, but she’s too unsteady so Jack scoops her into his arms.
I grab her purse from the ground and follow them hurriedly back into the foyer. Jack marches through everyone, using his shoulder to move past the crowd of people as he strides on, not pausing for anything or faltering until he gets to the elevator.
“Shit, is she okay, is she gonna be okay?” I ask Jack, as we ride up to the penthouses.
“She’s fine. She’ll be fine,” Jack answers, trying to keep his face neutral but the deep crevice in his forehead, and the pain in his eyes gives his true emotions away. He’s worried. Really worried. And that worries me. I don’t really know much about the after effects of drugs, but I know enough to know that Tara has had more of something than she should have, and her body is struggling to deal with it.
“I think we should have gone to a hospital instead,” I suggest quietly.
The elevator opens, and Jack nods for commando to knock on the door to Denham’s suite. It takes a couple of attempts for Denham to open up, and when he does, the color drains from his whole body. His tan is not so prominent now. He holds the door wide open, and Jack takes Tara straight through to the guest bedroom. We all follow closely behind, there’s a quiet panic and the air is so damn heavy that it feels hard to even breathe. I’m nervous. I don’t know much about drugs. I don’t know how Denham will handle this. I don’t know what I can do to help.
“What the fuck is going on, Jack?” Denham’s voice is tight, pained. And it’s clear that he’s trying to reign in the panic.
Jack lays her on the double bed in the center of the room, and tenderly pushes her mop of curls from her face, brushing the back of his hand over her cheek bone and sucking in a sharp breath. Then he stops. It’s like he just remembered we’re all there watching him, and the tender way he treated Tara. He tears himself away and stands formally in the doorway with commando.
“Fuck. Fuck. What has she gone and done?” Denham rubs his face with both hands, and looks torn between wanting to go to her, needing to have just a moment to himself and wanting some answers.
“I’ll get a cool cloth,” I say quietly, and exit to the bathroom. I hear Denham firing questions at Jack. Jack tries to explain the best he can what he knows, but as the conversation goes on, their voices hush and all I can hear is strained whispers.
“I don’t know, man. We’ll have Dom check the footage out front and see if we can get a hook on the car that dumped her off. Other than that, there’s not much we can do until she comes around.”
“Just you fuckin’ wait, she’s gonna be grounded for an eternity,” Denham growls.
“You can’t ground her, Denham,” I say on a sigh when I reenter the room “She’s twenty-three years old. Let’s just wait and see what she has to say, shall we?” I try to offer the voice of reason when I return to the bedroom, and I sit next to her on the edge of the bed, to wipe her streaked makeup with a wash cloth. Whether or not my opinion is welcome, is another matter. But someone has to think logically here, and although whoever brought her here should have at least seen her in the door, at least they brought her back, as opposed to leaving her stranded somewhere on her own.
“I think she needs to be looked over by a doctor.”
Denham sighs, “No, she just needs to sleep it off.”
“Denham …”
“No, Arianna,” He snaps. “This isn’t the first time, okay? Trust me to know what I’m doing with my own sister.”
The tone of his voice tells me not to argue. I probably would have retorted had I not been stuck on his last comment that this isn’t the first time. Tara is rebellious, yes. But drugs? I wouldn’t have called it.
Denham feels her forehead for her temperature, then strokes her cheekbone gently before removing her shoes and pulling a sheet up over her. “You don’t tell anyone about this, okay?” He looks at me with a stern expression. “No one. Not Lottie, not Spike, and definitely not my mom.”
“O-Okay. I wouldn’t offer the information freely anyway.” I try to reassure Denham of my loyalty, his defensiveness of his family is fierce, and although I feel a little hurt that he would need reassurance from me, I remember that it’s still early days for us. “What shall I tell Beth?”
He glances at his watch. “Shit. You’re only ten minutes late. I’ll call her and sort it out, you just get going.”
I stand and hand him the cloth, but when he reaches to take it, he takes hold of my hand instead and pulls me closer to him. “Thank you,” he whispers.
I smile and kiss his cheek. “Call me if you want me, okay?”
“We’ll be fine. Will you please come straight back from work? One of the boys will make sure you’re okay.”
“Yes, I’ll come straight back.”
The ride to work is quiet. Jack and commando sit up front, and although Jack knows Tara is in safe hands, the worry and restlessness coming from him is very evident. He chews on the skin around his fingers, and drives with one hand. I can see in the rear view mirror that the deep frown line in the center of his forehead is still there.
Out of nowhere, a man steps off the curb and in front of the car, causing Jack to swerve and slam his foot on the brake. His hand pummels the horn and it makes me jump so hard I drop my purse. When Jack starts to yell at the unsuspecting pedestrian, I feel my insides start to tighten. This is all we need after what has happened already this morning. Maybe I should have stayed in bed. It makes me nervous to see someone like Jack, who is usually the epitome of calm, start to lose their temper. Yelling makes me nervous.
“Hey, hey, big fella,” Commando interrupts Jack’s torrent of expletives, and pats him on the arm. “We’re good, man. No harm done. Let’s just get the lady to work, eh?” he suggests.
“Shit,” Jack hisses under his breath. “I’m sorry, Miss Fraser,” he offers, turning in his seat to look at me. “I’m sorry,” he repeats on a whisper and my heart clenches for him. Something about Tara’s state this morning has knocked him off kilter, and as much as I want to know what it is, there’s a selfish part of me that wants to take an ostrich approach and pretend it didn’t happen. The outcome is going to be the same whether I know, or not.
I just nod and smile kindly, not knowing what else I can do. I don’t want him to feel bad. The last couple of minutes of the journey is completed without drama or disaster, and I thank the lords. I hold my breath as I push open the doors to the boutique not knowing what I’m going to be faced with, and hoping that Denham remembered to call Beth and smooth things over with her. I’m not entirely sure I’ll know what to say if she asks me why I’m late.
“Good morning, Beth. I’m so—”
“Morning, Arianna. Lots to do. Here,” she says shoving a stack of papers under my nose. “We have two meetings this morning. These are the designers. Read up. Get familiar. We need to be showing them why they should stock their garments with us, and not with that tart on Sahara Avenue.” She curls her lip to accentuate her distaste, and it’s the first thing since this morning to make me smile.
“What time are the meetings?” I ask nervously.
“Eleven and two thirty. On site. I’ll make coffee.”
Beth fiddles around with the coffee machine in our office, and I flick through the folders before opening the first one and getting lost. I don’t have much time to feel nervous about these meetings as they are imminent, and I’m using as much of my brain power as I can absorbing the words on these pages. It’s times like this that a good memory comes in very useful, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t overwhelmed. I’m so grateful for the distraction though, that I get stuck right in.
Luckily, I didn’t need to worry. The first meeting goes very smoothly. Beth led them around the shop floor like the pro that she is. She also let me hover in the wings, prompting me only when she knew I would be comfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. I surprised myself at the amount of natural knowledge I have for the fashion industry, and they seemed impressed with my opinions, too.
By the time they leave, I’m buzzed. I have just completed my first official meeting, and it feels great.