“You really don’t get it, do you?” I stood up. “I want nothing to do with you. I don’t want you to buy me dinner. I don’t want you to buy me anything. I will not go anywhere with you, Jared. What I want most in the world is for you to crawl back into the hole you live in and die. How’s that?”
He swallowed. “I understand.” He turned around and walked off. A pang hit me, but I couldn’t keep doing this. As I watched him leave, I caught Matt’s eye. He nodded at me, and I sensed that I had gained his approval. I also made a mental note that I really needed to find out who he was.
Sam and I walked out of the room about ten minutes later. They had actually arranged for us to leave a back way, and when we got into the Town Car I heaved a huge sigh of relief.
“What a nightmare,” he groaned, rubbing his temples as we slid into the car. “I just don’t understand why everyone needs a photo of you.”
“It’s because we’re trying to hide it,” I pointed out.
“Murphy’s law and all that?”
I managed some sort of grunt in reply.
“It wasn’t really too terrible today, was it?” he asked, concerned.
I slumped back in my seat. “I just can’t believe they haven’t figured out who killed Jonathan.”
“All we can really surmise at this point is that it was someone who knew Caereon well. I had no idea that there were rooms in the fort that didn’t have video surveillance, and of course someone knocked out the feed in your father’s office.” He smiled tiredly. “What do you want to do for dinner?”
“The wifey isn’t cooking for us?” I asked. That was silly, of course. Alexis was not exactly the domestic type. Briefly I thought of how her attitude toward me had not warmed as we had gotten better acquainted. At least I knew it wasn’t just me; Jared obviously did not like her. The uneasy truce between me and Alexis had gotten more and more tenuous during our cohabitation. As soon as Jonathan’s will gets straightened out, I vowed, I’m leaving this place.
“Alex had a meeting, so I thought you and I could get some carryout or order in,” he suggested.
I started to laugh, which felt really good. “The prospect of eating with you is much more appealing than dining with Jared. Shall we stay up all night watching cheesy movies?”
“If you like,” he replied. “I wouldn’t mind some Back to the Future.”
Oh, how I loved my brother. “You can’t do that again though, Sam.”
“Do what?”
“Let Jared near me. You left me alone and he just swooped in.”
“That’s a bit dramatic, Anabel. I don’t think he’s the swooping type.”
Now he was making fun of me. “We talked about how I wouldn’t have to talk to him, and you left me! I am extremely uncomfortable with him there,” I fumed.
My brother rubbed my arm. “I know. As soon as these hearings are over, you’ll never have to see him again.”
“I disagree,” I warned. “I have a nasty suspicion I’m going to have to see him more.”
Sam ignored me. “Also,” he lectured, “your doctor has informed you that it would be best if you kept your stress levels low, and he’s coming tomorrow morning to look at you. The best thing right now is to just forget Jared and focus on enjoying yourself for once. Okay?”
I grinned at him. “Twist my arm. But none of this Marty McFly crap. I want to watch Indiana Jones.”
Chapter 6—Anabel
The following Thursday brought us together once more. As I took my seat, I was comforted by the fact that we would probably not be reconvening on Friday, and I would have another whole weekend pass in which I could avoid Jared.
A gray-haired woman, Ms. Halsey, cleared her throat. “Mr. Sorensen, I have a question about your relationship with Miss Martin.” I liked how she just cut to the chase. She stared straight at him in a rather unsettling matter. I was impressed by the gutsiness of her glare, and resolved to learn how to give that exact look. It was scary.
“What’s that, ma’am?” asked Jared. He, of course, was cool as ever.
“To what extent were you two romantically involved?”
“I don’t really see what that has to do with anything,” Sam interjected.
“Sam,” I interjected, “you don’t need to protect me.” I stood up. “Ms. Halsey, I would like, if I may, to answer any questions you have about us.” I smiled at her. “Besides, he’s a guy; he’d probably muck up all the details.”
Ms. Fischer gave me a small grin back, and there were a few laughs around the room. Ms. Halsey continued, “Are you sure you’re up to it, Miss Martin? You’ve been through an ordeal and—”
Jared interrupted with, “You know, I’d like to present my point of view as well.”
“Okay,” I replied, “but ladies first.” He stared at me like he was trying to figure me out, and I smiled sweetly back at him, trying to hold back tears. I knew—I knew—that it would do me absolutely no good to cry. Crying would betray me to Sam, which I did not want to deal with, and much more distressing, it would betray me to Jared.
Moreover, I could not let Jared know how I still had strong feelings for him—and I also knew I had to keep my other secret. I still couldn’t understand my attraction to Jared, how it managed to persist after everything that had happened, but it made me angry at myself—and at him. So, when the Congresswomen brought up our relationship, I knew that I had to be the one to talk about it—otherwise, I would blow my cover. Besides, in terms of the blossoming of the saga of Jared and Anabel, I knew the perfect story to illustrate what had happened.
***
After I caught Jared going through my stuff, I was more than a little mad at him. I didn’t care what Sam had said, I felt wronged. He had no right to go through my desk. I was also angry that his actions had forced me to lie to my brother, and so, I thought about how to punish him . . . until it came to me. Brushing aside any moral scruples, I told myself the ends of this one would justify the means. So I avoided him for a couple days, and when I could take it no more, I decided to put my feminine wiles to work.
Okay, so I might not have had much experience using said wiles, but I’d seen enough movies to know what to do to get a guy excited. At dinner the night before, I had sneaked glances at him—and then I realized that Jared was looking at me in a way that reminded me of how my father used to look at Miss Marilyn.
I kept turning over in my mind what he had said to me—the flimsy excuses, how he was growing to care about me, and all that other absolute garbage. What drove me the most crazy was how Sam had said Jared was his best friend. If Jared was indeed his best friend, why was he hitting on me, his best friend’s sister? Now, I may not have had a lot of experience with relationships, but I knew what was wrong when I saw it. If he cared about Sam, he wouldn’t try to put the moves on me. And as for caring about me, well . . . I kept coming back to the same thing. The reality was Jared didn’t care one bit about me. He just wanted some.
“That’s all men really want, anyway,” I told myself, smoothing my favorite white dress as I stood in front of the mirror. Oh, my white dress. I wish I still had it. It’s a gorgeous number. My father had ordered it for me as a gift, and had not realized how immodest it was until the first time I wore it and he screamed at me to put on a sweater and not run around half-naked. As an insurance policy (it would ruin my resolve if I ran into Jonathan), I draped a powder blue sweater around my shoulders to bring out the color of my eyes. Jared Sorensen was not interested in me, I repeated to myself. Of course, my knowledge of relationships had, up until this point, been a result of what I had learned from movies and television. Until I was about sixteen, I had thought all couples were like Buttercup and Westley in The Princess Bride: sweet, romantic, and while sometimes dangerous, they always wound up happily ever after.
Then I discovered Sex in the City and concluded that all men were swine. It was a lot easier to watch these things that my father didn’t want me to see with my babysitter out of the way.
And for those reasons, I had made up my mind not to care about Jared.
Even if I had wanted to. Which—and I had to firmly remind myself of this—I didn’t.
On top of our fortress is a piazza-type area that I had seen Jared admiring. It has an incredible view, overlooking the forest on one side and the vast expanse of the Pacific on the other. I had caught him eying the site and had a hunch—call it women’s intuition—I would find him up there.
As I came up the stairs I saw him leaning over the rail. I approached him, letting my sweater fall from my shoulders. I leaned over the rail. “Beautiful view, huh?”
He started. “Anabel!”
“Yes, that would be me,” I said in my most offhand manner.
“Listen, I wanted to tell you—”
”Jared, I really—” I said at the same time. We looked at each other and laughed, and I could not deny that I liked the look on his face.
“I said some things I shouldn’t,” he began.
“Like what?” I asked innocently.
He opened his mouth, but then he paused, and took me in. “That’s some dress.”
“You ignored my question.” It was all a game to me, and my heart was racing.
“I have other things on my mind,” he muttered, leaning in toward me.
“Like what?” I asked, breathless.
He turned and looked at me. I gazed straight back into his eyes, and before I knew it he pulled me close to him and firmly pressed his lips to mine. I was so startled, I lost my balance, but he tightened his grip around me and I gave in to him. My arms weren’t my own as I wrapped them around his neck, and that only made him kiss me more urgently, more deeply. It was like we were suspended in time, and for a moment, all that mattered was me and Jared. I was reeling for an instant, but then I pulled myself apart from him and turned away, horrified. I was already losing this. I struggled to clear my head and take control of the situation.
“You kissed me,” I gazed into the ocean, trying to conceal my shock. Feeling calmer, I ventured a glance at him.
He looked shamefaced. “Yeah, I did.”
I tossed my hair. I could work with this. “You seem upset,” I observed, in what I hoped was a cool and detached manner.
He looked away, keeping his arms crossed over the rail. “Well, I didn’t . . . that is . . . Anabel.”
“Jared,” I returned.
“I didn’t—that is, I shouldn’t have kissed you. If your brother, let alone your father knew . . . I apologize,” he said, staring into my eyes.
I shifted my gaze to the waves. The sun was beating down, and I thought about how wonderful ice-cold water would feel right now. My heart still thudding, I contemplated shimmying out of my dress and jumping into the water right then. I would probably die on impact, but it would solve a lot of problems.
“Anabel?”
“Yes?” I turned back to him.
“I apologized.” There was a bit of an edge to his voice.
“I heard you. And I have to admit, I’m quite offended.” I picked up my sweater and threw it onto a chair. “Is it hot out here?”
He swallowed. “Quite. Why are you offended?”
I crossed my arms and glared at him. “Did you not like kissing me? Am I not a good kisser?” I leaned backwards against the rail, making sure to thrust my chest out a bit. “Not that I’ve had a lot of practice, but really, I didn’t think I was half bad.”
Jared looked taken aback. I almost lost my composure and laughed at the look on his face. Then he slowly said, “No, that wasn’t it.”
“What then? You find me repulsive?”
“Anabel, for crying out loud! You’re not a bad kisser, and no, I do not find you repulsive.”
I beamed at him. “Oh, so you want to give it another go?” I then proceeded to invade his personal space.
He looked at me, incredulous. “What the devil has gotten into you?”
“Oh, come on, Jared,” I moved toward him. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. At the same time I can’t sit here and pretend like I’m not attracted to you.” I pressed my body against his and whispered in his ear, “It doesn’t have to mean anything, you know. We can have sex just to have sex . . . and you’ll leave, and that will be that.”
I felt his breathing change, as he murmured, “But Anabel, what about Sam . . .”
I looked around. “I don’t see him here.”
“This isn’t right . . .”
“Shh,” I whispered, “isn’t this what you want, Jared?” I slowly ran my finger down his chest.
I heard a sharp intake of breath, and then he uttered, “Yes—”
I broke away and smiled at him. “Well, today doesn’t work for me, but maybe some other time then.” I picked up my sweater, turned on my heel, and marched off, trying to hold back the giggles as a slew of profanities erupted from Jared’s mouth.
It’s not easy to get Anabel Martin’s panties in a twist. Jared would do well to remember that. Or so I thought, anyway.
***
Sam looked appalled. “You made that up. Please tell me you made that up.”
I looked down, ashamed. “I’m sorry, Sam.”
The council members all exchanged glances, but I was pretty sure any image they had of me as the poor innocent victim had flown out the window. I turned around and ventured a glance at Matt, but he wouldn’t catch my eye.
I still didn’t know what he did. Sam had been very elusive on that point.
So I sneaked a glance at Jared, who looked smug. He sat back in his chair, his arms folded, smirking at me. “You shut up,” I admonished him.
“I did not say a thing, babe,” he grinned, self-satisfied.
“I think now is a good time for lunch,” proclaimed Ms. Fischer. “Mr. Sorensen, we will hear from you after the break.” They filed out, and Sam was still staring at me like he had never seen me before.
“I just thought it would be a way to put him in his place. I felt like he was wronging the both of us, treating me like that. And I thought it would be a way to get him back. You know, tell him I’ll put out and then take it away.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I just figured he wasn’t used to rejection.”
“I can’t even look at you right now,” he stated. “Behaving like that . . .”
I touched his arm. “Please don’t be mad at me. I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to get back at him, you know? I didn’t know any better!”
“You didn’t know any better?” He repeated. “You know what? It’s no wonder what happened with you happened. I am at a loss, Anabel.” He stood up and walked away. I crossed my arms and put my head down on the table. I had broken my brother’s heart, and he had cut me down. I could not go any lower.