Authors: Lynn Montagano
Another loud cheer filled the arena as the Predators scored their fifth touchdown. While they watched the game, I waited for Alastair to return. After twenty minutes passed I started to feel uneasy. The phone calls never lasted this long unless there was a major problem. Tempted to go out in the hallway, I crossed my legs in an effort to remain centered and relaxed. Didn’t work as well as I wanted it to. My leg bobbed up and down in a nervous rhythm. I willed the anxious energy to subside but all it did was relocate to my foot, which tapped against the glass window.
Muffled conversation between my parents and Stephanie floated around me. I caught bits and pieces of it.
Where should we go to eat…They sure do score a lot of points in arena football…Why didn’t the quarterback just run with the ball…When do you start your new job…We should go to games this way back home.
The beeping of my phone cleared the fog from my head.
4:48pm Have to go take care of a few things. Paxton will take you home.
That was it? That was all he had to say? I shoved the phone back in my pocket, created an excuse to tell my parents and made no effort to pay attention to the rest of the game.
* * *
I stared into the darkness, trying to make sense of the shadows on my walls. Insomnia had a pretty good stranglehold on me. I hadn’t heard from Alastair since his terse text at the game. Paxton was no help either. He just said there were some issues at the office and Alastair had to be on an emergency conference call. I didn’t believe a word of it.
Glowing digital numbers taunted me from the nightstand with their giddy declaration that it was only three-thirty in the morning. I groaned, burying my face into the pillow. It still smelled like Alastair, immediately causing me to miss him like crazy. I rolled over and reached for the cell phone. As my eyes adjusted to the bright home screen I saw I had no messages.
Tossing the phone back on the nightstand I sighed. Heat lightning lit up the sky outside, illuminating my bedroom. I closed my eyes and willed myself to fall asleep. When it became clear that wasn’t going to happen, I got up and did laundry. I thought maybe the mundane task would lull me to sleep. Nope. I paced the apartment, watched some TV and took a shower.
I couldn’t stand being trapped between these walls any longer so I drove out to Lake Eola. Early morning joggers loped along the path, focused on their pacing. I wasn’t dressed for a serious run but did manage to get in a lap around the lake. I noticed one guy casually walking near the water’s edge carrying a camera. Eying him suspiciously, I slowed down. He raised the camera and snapped a few pictures of the swans floating gracefully on the lake.
Shaking my head at my own paranoia, I went back to my car. I stopped dead in my tracks. An envelope sat on the windshield, stuck under the wiper. Looking around, I saw no one. Paxton wasn’t even following me. He’d gone back to the hotel after dropping me off at home last night. Whoever did this knew I didn’t have any eyes on me.
Angry, I grabbed the envelope and tore it open. There were only two photos inside this time; one of me and Nathan from the other night and one of me with Alastair, Stephanie and my parents in front of the Amway Center.
So much for the adult babysitters being on top of things.
A slip of paper floated to the ground. I picked it up and unfolded it.
Tell your ex-boyfriend to back off or photographs like this will be the least of your worries.
I stormed out of the elevator before it opened all the way and banged on the penthouse suite door. No answer. I fumed, pacing the small hallway. Reaching for my phone, I checked to see if I had any messages. Nothing. I knocked on the door again. From inside, I heard footsteps on the marble floor.
“I can hear you in there,” I called out.
The door opened. Paxton stood solemnly in front of me.
“Good morning, Miss Meyers.”
“Hi, Paxton. Is he awake?”
“No.”
“I’ll wait in the—”
“I’m sorry. I can’t let you do that.” He blocked the doorway with his sizable, bodyguard frame. “Mr. Holden would prefer if you stayed at your flat until he can come to you. You shouldn’t even be here right now. It’s not safe.”
I nearly exploded. “Not safe? If it’s not safe why aren’t you or that other guy acting like my shadows?”
“Scott had to take care of something for him. I’m meant to stay here.”
More vague answers. More hard to read, blank expressions.
Did they all go to the same School of Stoicism?
Royally pissed off, I dropped the envelope at Paxton’s feet.
“Well, this was on my car when I finished my run at Lake Eola.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What were you doing out there? I told you not to leave the flat when I dropped you off last night.”
“I am not a caged animal,” I yelled. “I can come and go as I please. Why can none of you get that through your thick skulls?”
“It’s not up to me, Miss Meyers. I’m only following what Mr. Holden wants.”
“Of course,” I grumbled. “He always gets what he wants.”
Bending down to pick up the envelope, he frowned. I had the distinct impression he was keeping something from me. My head spun. I’d had enough of all this secrecy bullshit.
“Look, I’m all set with whatever covert thing you guys have going on. Alastair shows up at my door unannounced, you two follow me everywhere to protect me from some mysterious danger and now I can’t wait in my boyfriend’s hotel room because it’s not safe. I’m done. When you see Alastair tell him I said to have a good flight back to Glasgow.”
Tears pooled in my eyes more out of anger than anything. I practically threw myself into the car and pounded on the steering wheel. As exasperated as I was, I knew deep down this was all happening because I didn’t tell him his uncle hired Rachel to follow me. My own stubbornness had come back and bitten me in the ass.
* * *
Brunch with my parents was torture. They gushed and gushed about how lovely Alastair was, how much of a gentleman he was, blah, blah, blah.
“He’s a good egg, Lia,” my dad proclaimed. “Smart, personable, straightforward. He does play his cards close to his chest, though. Then again, every good businessman should.”
I forced a smile, shoving a piece of Belgian waffle into my mouth.
You have no idea how close. No idea at all.
I helped the waffle slide down my throat with a big sip of mimosa. The restaurant hummed with conversation as I soaked in the scenery. Or tried to at least. I couldn’t focus on anything. The food was excellent but I didn’t enjoy it as much as I should have.
“Your father and I are driving up to Saint Augustine after we finish here.”
“I hear it’s nice. I’ve never been there.”
“You’ve lived here almost six years and have never gone to Saint Augustine? Why not?”
I shrugged. “Never really thought about it.”
“Amelia,” my mother sighed, “there is more to life than being in a newsroom. Go out and experience things.”
“Seriously, mom? You honestly think I spend all my free time at work? I like my job but not that much. That place drives me nuts most days. I mean, my God, I was in Glasgow last weekend. Where else do you want me to go?” My nerves were so fried the smallest things irritated me.
“Alright, alright.” She put her hands up in retreat. “Both my daughters have demanding jobs. I worry. You’re only young once.”
“I think she’s doing just fine.” My dad patted my hand.
The rest of my time at brunch passed by painlessly. Well, in a manner of speaking. Spending time with my family was always a treat and to some extent it did help get my mind off Alastair’s abrupt departure. When I returned to my apartment I paced the living room. Paxton was on my tail again. I’d noticed the SUV while we were at the restaurant. This surge of overprotectiveness grew tiresome.
Deciding not to dwell on this, I called Stephanie and asked if she’d like to do some clothes shopping for her going away party. Never one to turn down a retail excursion she agreed enthusiastically. I found a sassy, shimmery slate gray cocktail dress that I absolutely loved.
“So, are you going to tell me why Alastair’s driver has been following us all day?” Stephanie asked while I tried on the dress.
“You noticed.”
“It’s hard not to. He sticks out like a sore thumb in that Secret Service outfit. Jesus, it’s Florida in mid-July. Nobody wears that many clothes.”
“I think they call it MI5 in the United Kingdom,” I giggled, walking out of the dressing room. “What do you think?”
“Ooh, so pretty. It makes you look all hour-glassy and hot. I wish I had your figure.”
I stared at myself in the mirror, smoothing down the dress. The sleeveless, fitted bodice was covered in a delicate design of tiled crystals. It did hug my curves in all the right places. Plus, it showed off just enough leg to be sexy without looking like I was trying too hard. “Give me some of your height and you can have some of my hips and boobs.”
“Touché. So, why is the suit and tie following you?”
I sighed. “I’m assuming it’s because of Jameson. I can’t think of any other reason.”
Stephanie looked uncomfortable. “Maybe he’s doing this because he’s jealous and doesn’t want you seeing Nathan behind his back.” She glued her eyes to the floor, fidgeting with her purse.
“You and I both know that story was a fabricated piece of shit. They made it look like I was on a date with him.”
“Did you tell Alastair that was what happened?”
I sighed. “He knows I’m not seeing him. He knows that whole thing is crap. He’s more concerned about Nathan manipulating me.” I turned toward Stephanie. She had a worried look on her face. “What?”
“Well,” she stammered, “no offense but you did ignore his shitty side for so long that maybe you can’t tell when he’s playing you.”
“I know. I was an idiot back then. It’s different now. I can see through his act way easier.”
“Can you?”
I clenched my fists. “Yes. He’s damn good at being a smooth talker but I can handle myself.”
“Why turn to him though? Why didn’t you come to me?”
“It’s complicated.”
“In what way?”
I sat on the plush, velvet-covered bench next to her. The floodgates threatened to open and spill out everything to my best friend. I wanted to tell her.
She’ll overreact.
“There’s something…off about why Rachel is following me. I don’t have all the facts yet. It could be nothing. Once I know, I’ll tell you. I promise.”
Discouraged, she folded her arms. “I don’t like when you clam up about stuff.”
“I know.”
“Then tell me. Maybe I can do something to help so you don’t have to rely on that ass wipe.”
“I wish there were something you could do,” I said quietly. Silence suffocated the dressing room, reaching into every corner.
“Have you heard from him?”
“Which one?”
She rolled her eyes. “Nathan.”
“Nope. Not since the night we were at dinner. He’s been radio silent all week.”
“That’s a good thing then, right?”
“Of course it’s a good thing,” I hissed, exasperated. “Do you think I like having to lean on him for help? It makes me sick but I have no choice.”
Silence again. I caught a glimpse of our reflections in the mirror. We both looked agitated.
“You know what we haven’t done in awhile?” Stephanie asked, brightening the room.
“What?”
“Gone to a theme park to ride the roller coasters. What do you say? I have nothing to do the rest of the day.”
“You are a genius. Let’s go.”
I changed and bought the dress, then drove off to spend the afternoon acting like a kid. Something about roller coasters helped relieve stress in the best way. All the yelling and screaming and high speeds were a great catharsis. We must have gone on the rides a dozen times before deciding to have dinner and drinks at one of the many countries in EPCOT. After spending a substantial amount of time in France drinking slushy, candy-flavored concoctions at the Pavilion, we made our way to the Rose and Crown pub in Great Britain. Drinking around the world seemed to be the perfect way to spend the night.
There were a good number of guests milling about the traditionally decorated British pub. The park was open late thanks to "extra magic hours" and people kept coming in. I sipped on some strong apple cider and people-watched. Sitting alone at a table in the corner keeping a watchful eye on us was Paxton. I grinned, raising my glass to him. He nodded slightly and came very close to smiling.
“We should send him a drink,” Stephanie suggested.
“I’m willing to bet my paycheck for a year he’s not allowed to drink while,” I pulled a serious face, “on assignment.”
Clinking our glasses together we both giggled.
“I wonder if Alastair has a code name for you. You know, like how they call the president Blitzen or Hawk Eye or whatever.”
I snorted. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“I’ve heard him call you kitten before. Maybe they use Duchess, like the white fluffy cat in Aristocats.”
“Nah. It’s probably something boring like Rosebud.”
“He knows you like to run. Maybe, Roadrunner? Or something totally British, like scone or haggis.”
I nearly fell off the barstool from laughing. “Scone or haggis? So he sees me as a quickbread or sheep organs? Oh my God. I can’t.”
We hadn’t laughed this hard together in a long, long time. It felt good. A twinge of sadness crept through me as the realization dawned that I didn’t have many more of these silly girls’ nights left with her. She’d be in Glasgow soon, ready to start her new life.
Next weekend at this time I’ll be helping her pack
.
“Oh no. Why the sad face?”
I swallowed my drink. “No sad face, my friend. Cheers.” We clinked glasses again and ordered another round along with a small pizza. Once we finished our food, we strolled through the park back to my car. Paxton stayed a good ten paces behind us. I felt bad for the guy, having to follow me wherever I went. My normal daily routines were so boring. I stopped short and turned around.