All Who Dream (Letting Go) (6 page)

 
“Not really—no. I left him…my boyfriend.”

I
breathed in deep, relief filling my soul. “
Okay,
and
where are you now? Are you safe tonight?”

 
“Yes, I made my exit plan like we talked
about, and I did it. I left. I’m at my Aunt’s house in Oklahoma.”

 
“Oh, Jenny, I am so proud of you. I know it
was hard. I know you’re feeling a lot of things right now, and not all of them
feel good…but you did the
right
thing. You are worth more than staying with an abuser. I want you to hear
that.”

I could
hear her crying on the other end. I waited, giving her time to speak.

 
“Thank you—I just kept replaying your words
over and over in my head. You gave me the courage to do it.”

 
“No, you had the courage…you just needed some
support.”

 
“Yes, you’re right,” she said.

 
“Promise me you’ll keep me in the loop—I also
want you to let either Rosie or Maggie know where you’re at, okay?”

 
“Okay, I promise.”

 
“I’m proud of you, Jenny.”

After a
few minutes more of reassuring conversation, I hung up the phone and slipped it
back into my clutch.

 
“Problem?”

Though he
had spoken less than a dozen words to me since we’d met, I
knew
that voice. What was wrong with me that I had subconsciously
committed it to memory the first time I heard it? I turned around, slowly.

There
stood Jackson Ross, ten feet from me, arms crossed over his broad chest, an
eyebrow raised in expectation.

My pulse
quickened as our eyes met. “No, just had to take a phone call.”

He stared
at me, his face blank of emotion. “You have no business with Stewart
Vargus
.”

He saw me speaking with Stewart
Vargus
?

I shook
my head. “I’m sorry—I didn’t—”

 
“Why?” He lifted a second eyebrow in question.

 
“Why what?”
I asked
breathless.

 
“Why are you
sorry
? I was stating a fact, not seeking your repentance. Are you
always so needlessly apologetic, Miss Flores, or is it just a bad habit of
yours I should get used to?” He dropped his hands to his sides, never once
breaking eye contact.

His
audacity was shocking. Though it was typical of me to hold my tongue, there was
nothing
typical about this man or
this conversation. Heat flashed inside me, and my fingers curled tight to my
palms.

I scowled
at him. “Well, are
you
always so
impolite when speaking to a woman you just met, Mr. Ross, or have I done
something to warrant this disdain you seem to have for me?”

My
audacity was shocking as well. I had
never spoken so freely…to anyone, much less a CEO dressed in a suit that was
likely worth more than my car.

He
smiled—a real, earth-shattering, heart-melting,
need-to-brace-myself-against-a-wall kind of smile.

I hated
its effect on me.

“Disdain?”
He asked.

“Yes.
Disdain, dislike, displeasure, disgust-” I rattled off.

The
corners of his mouth ticked. “I’m quite familiar with the word, but thank you
for providing such worthy synonyms.”

I pursed
my lips as he took a step closer, my neck suddenly boiling with heat at his
nearness.

“But I’m
afraid your observations are misguided, Miss. Flores. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He walked away, rendering me speechless. Like usual.

I hadn’t
the slightest clue what was going on tomorrow—or why he would be seeing me—but
when Jackson Ross spoke, his word was law.

Unyielding.

Uncompromising.

Unbreakable.

Morning
came too early. After chatting with Rosie late into the night, careful to leave
my most recent interaction with Jackson out of our conversation, my sleep was
fitful at best.

But today
was Saturday:
a.k.a
shopping day, and I was
determined to make the most of the opportunity, even if I was sick to my
stomach about spending money
on
 
frivolous
items like clothing.

I checked
the schedule, which
Pippy
had agreed to email me
since the changes were constant. There was another dinner this evening. I
guessed that was the event to which Mr. Ross had been referring last night. My
cheeks burned with remembrance.

“Mom, how
long
are
we going to shop?” Cody took a bite of a
blueberry muffin as we waited for
Pippy
to arrive.
She’d texted she had a stop on the way, so we decided to grab a quick breakfast
at the bakery next door to the Ross building.

“Don’t
talk with your mouth full, honey. And I’m not sure. I don’t know what she has
planned, but it might be longer than you’re used to.” I rubbed his head.

“Well, I
have my backpack loaded and ready.”

I giggled.
Goofball.

When we
walked outside minutes later, I nearly gasped. There, standing on the sidewalk
in another designer suit, was Jackson Ross.

What is he doing here?

“Hey, Mr. Ross!”
Cody said, giving him a high-five.

“Hey, short-stuff.”

“Are you
going shopping with us?” Cody asked.

“Thought you could use a man-break.”

My ears
perked up at the casual way he spoke to Cody.

“What’s a
man-break?” Cody asked.

“It’s
what men do while ladies shop.” He shrugged.

“Oh,
cool,” Cody said happily.

Pippy
was inside the car already—on her cell. She was
pressed up against the inside of the door, absorbed in conversation. Cody
jumped into the front seat without a second thought, leaving me with Jackson.

“After you.”
Jackson said, holding the door for me.

A rush of
heat flooded my gut and my cheeks simultaneously.

 
“Cody, you need to offer that seat to Mr.
Ross. Where are your manners?” I scolded.

 
“Oh…did you want to sit here, Mr. Ross?” Cody
asked, turning around in his seat to stare at us both standing on the curb.

 
“No, thank you,” he said.

I glanced
up at Jackson as I heard a hint of something quite unusual in his
tone—amusement.

I slid
into the seat, acutely aware that I was in jeans, ballet flats, and a black
tank top—apparently underdressed for the excursion. He must not have been too
concerned about me contaminating his fancy suit pants though because there
wasn’t a spot on my leg that his leg didn’t touch. I tried to scoot closer to
Pippy
, but my attempt made no difference. We were like
peanut butter and jelly—oozing together despite the distinctly different
tastes.

Hearing a
low, deep chuckle escape him, the irrational fire that had filled my core last
night, returned. Though I’d spend years helping women analyze the relationships
in their lives, I still did not understand this man—much less, the affect he
had on me.

I turned
to him, my prior insecurities of speaking my mind to a man of his position and
power, now completely absent. “Cody doesn’t need a babysitter, you know. He is
used to tagging along with me, and if I recall correctly, I thought you had
more important things to do than to be bothered with shopping.”

 
“You don’t.”

I took a
deep breath and then gave in to the bait set before me.

 
“I don’t what?” I stared out
Pippy’s
window as she covered one ear with her hand, still
speaking on the phone.

 
“Recall correctly.”

I most
certainly
did
recall correctly. I
remembered every word that came out of his mouth during our first encounter,
including his hurtful assessment of me.
Me,
the just a mom.

 
“You said you had more important things on
your mind than a
wardrobe crisis
.” My
low-voiced exclamation came out more like a hiss than a whisper.

His smile
was smug, as if I hadn’t just proven him wrong.

 
“True, but other concerns don’t rule out my
company today.”

 
“Fine.”
I clamped my
mouth shut, refusing to say more. I didn’t want to play into whatever game this
was.

“Fine.”
He took out his phone and scrolled through his
emails, a slow grin working
it’s
way on his face when he glanced at me.

I felt
exhausted already, and the day had yet to begin. One thing was for certain: I
wasn’t going to let him have the last word
every
time.

I
couldn’t remember the last time I was in a store that only sold clothing. I did
the majority of my shopping where I could get groceries, office supplies and
bathroom products all within a few aisles of each other. That was not the kind
of store
Pippy
had in mind for today, however.

Walt
dropped us off near the
Soho
district, which
Pippy
had suggested. The second we walked into the cozy
store I knew I was in way over my head. Back home Rosie was my shopping
buddy—and though she was far more fashionable than I—this place would put her
to shame.
Pippy
took hold of my arm, reassuring me as
we browsed the
great quality
of
clothing the store possessed, but all I could think about was
price point
.

Cody and
Jackson found a nice comfy couch to occupy while
Pippy
held up multiple dresses against my skin. I looked at the price tag first, much
to
Pippy’s
dissatisfaction. The guys were sucked into
their electronic devices, both intent on the screens before them.

 
“This is going to be like playing dress up
with a real life Barbie Doll!
Eeek
! I’m so excited!”
Pippy
grabbed another gown and hooked it onto the dressing
room door.

My cheeks
flashed hot. Couldn’t she have a little more of an
inside voice
?

“
Pippy
…uh, how many dresses did you put in there?” I
whispered, hoping she would take the hint.

“Oh, uh…maybe twelve?
You should probably start trying them
on, I guess.” She grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the room.

Having a
second alone with her, I whispered, “
Pippy
, what is
Jackson really doing here?”

She
shrugged, “I was as surprised as you were to see him this morning. Just roll
with it, okay? I don’t want to jinx our shopping day. This kind of thing is
highly unusual for Pinkerton, but….” Her eyes crinkled as she grinned at me.

“But what?”

“Mr. Ross
doesn’t make mistakes. He does what he wants.”

There
were closer to twenty gowns hooked on the inside of my dressing room door. I
laughed to myself as I started the process of trying them on.
Pippy
waited outside the door, ready to give her approval,
or disapproval, along with plenty of commentary each time I stepped out. A few
size exchanges had to be made between unveilings, but for the most part,
Pippy
had been spot on with her guesses.

Her
enthusiasm never faltered; she was an endless supply of energy and optimism.

I stood
in the fourth navy, floor length gown she had brought to me.

“Ooh…that
is just such a great color on you! I definitely think we should get that one.”

I
laughed. “You have said that about every one I’ve put on so far. I think we
should stick to three—total.”

“
What
? No way. We are not leaving with
only three. Mr. Ross gave me permission to expense whatever you need,” she
said.

Although
I appreciated her help and kindness, I felt very uneasy about expensing more
than what I knew I could repay. I had done the math in my head and three was
the absolute maximum I could afford—if I stuck to the clearance dresses, which
I planning on from the second we entered this fashion boutique.

 
“Well, I think
need
is a bit of a strong term. Three will be suitable. I can just
rotate them.”

She
frowned, puckering her lips, and then put her hands on her hips.

 
“You aren’t planning to-”

 
“
Pippy
,
three
will be just fine. Let me try on a
few more, and then we can decide together which work best.”

I shut
the door of the dressing room and pulled out a champagne-colored gown from the
mix. As I slipped into it, the dress spilled over my hips, sparkling like a
chandelier in a ballroom. The gown’s tiny, spaghetti straps were barely
visible, but they were the perfect set-up to the sweet-heart neckline. There
was no doubt about
it,
this gown was the most gorgeous
piece of attire I’d ever seen, much less, worn. Swaying in the mirror, the tag
flipped over, revealing a number that caused me to gasp.
Twenty-two hundred dollars!
 

Pippy
knocked with what I was sure was another load of
options in her arms. With one hand holding my hair off my neck, I used the
other to push open the door. But
Pippy
was no longer
her cute, Pixie-like self, instead she had transformed into a wickedly-handsome
man.
 

Jackson’s
eyes roamed the length of my dress, slowly making their way up to rest on my
face. I dropped my hand from the loose up-do I was holding on top of my head.
My hair spilled down my back and around my shoulders in one quick sweeping
motion. Every cell in my body was aware of his presence, begging silently for
his approval. He placed a hand at the back of his neck and looked away—briefly.