OVERPROTECTED (15 page)

I gnawed on my lower lip. Fear of rejection finally convinced me to not text him about lunch or anything else. I dragged through the cafeteria line with my tray, plucking a mandarin chicken salad and Vitamin Water. Felicity stuck with her vegetarian panini, chips, and Pepsi.

We sat at a table next to the large windows that overlooked the cement courtyard of the front of Chatham. Danicka, for how skinny she was, was easy to spot—her and her pack surrounded—Colin.

My heart sunk. His tall form, encircled by blue-blazers, plaid skirts and bare, never-ending legs caused me to nearly lose the first three bites of mandarin chicken.

“The skank.” Felicity, seeing my fixed gaze outside, gasped. “She’s making a move on him.”

What if Danicka asked Colin his version of what had happened Saturday? A sickening black sludge filled my insides. Danicka stood close to Colin, who had his dark sunglasses on, so I couldn’t see where his eyes were. But then, neither could Danicka. She flipped her ruler-straight blonde hair over her shoulders every five seconds, like she was in a shampoo commercial.

Colin’s dimples charmed, flashing coyly. What were they talking about?

“She’s done this millions of times and knows what to do and how to do it,” Felicity said. The weight of my romantic inexperience crushed me a little.

I slid my book bag over my shoulder, took my tray to the conveyor belt, and left the cafeteria. Felicity tagged along beside me, her panini in one hand, Pepsi in the other, chips tucked under her arm.

“Woohoo,” she squealed. “Boss is comin’ down on her man.”

“I’m not his boss, Fel.” Even though, technically, Colin did work for me. “And he’s not my man.” But I was working on it.

A large floor-to-ceiling mirror donned one end of the main hall. I checked myself out as we passed by. I looked just as good as Danicka in this uniform. I may not drip Juicy jewelry, but the uniform flattered my shape and my skin was clear.

Outside, the frosty air hurt with every breath. Why was Colin out here? I found him in the courtyard, still surrounded by Danicka and her friends.

“I’m so cold,” Danicka was saying, hugging herself as Felicity and I approached. “Can I wear your coat?”

Colin saw me. I broke through the circle of girls and hooked my arm in his. “Come on, we’re going out for lunch.”

He dipped his head near mine as we walked away. “Thanks. I owe you.”

“Have you eaten?” I asked. Over his shoulder, I saw Danicka and her friends waiting.
Vultures.

He glanced at his watch. “Do we have time?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Felicity piped with a grin.

“Joe’s Deli is close.” I tugged his arm and the three of us started down the sidewalk in the direction of the restaurant.

“I could eat.” His lips curved up.

<> <> <>

Since he owed me, I had him take me to the bookstore again that evening. In my heart, I hoped we would spend more time sipping lattes and talking than skimming book shelves, but I didn’t want him to think I had an agenda.

“Charles wants me to stay with you,” he said after we entered the building. He shook away a light dusting of snow covering his pea coat.

Babysitting again?
“I’m not going to take off,” I said. “I promise.”

He yanked off his knit hat and bunched it between his two hands while he tried to decipher whether or not I was telling him the truth.

“You believe me, right?”

“Yeah, I believe you. You’re not the partying type. And you’re not missing anything, trust me.”

“Are you the partying type?”

“Nope.”

“But you’re twenty-one.”

“Like I said, places like that—the people who hang there—

overrated.”

I liked imagining him as a person with class who knew better. If I didn’t go to another club again, with its sweaty bald gyrating men, I wouldn’t miss it.

No way was I going to browse romances with him standing over my shoulder. I opted for the young adult section instead. After a few minutes of trailing me, he started picking books from the shelves and thumbing through them.

I moved from one aisle to the next and continued browsing.

“Hey Ashlyn.” I froze. The voice belonged to Stuart. I turned around. He’d lost some weight in the weeks since I’d last seen him.

Thumbprints the color of bruises tattooed beneath his eyes spoke of lack of sleep. Grey shadowed his cheeks.

I shot a glance at Colin, a row over, his head down.

“You look… beautiful.” Stuart’s green eyes inched from my face down my body like a starved man.

“Did you… follow me here?” I asked, my gaze flicking from Stuart to Colin, his head still cast down—reading.

“Of course not,” he said. “We live in the same city, we were bound to run into each other.”

Stuart and I had come here often enough. I couldn’t rid myself of the edginess creeping over my skin. Still, he’d been my bodyguard for three years—I could talk to him and be cordial.

But the desperation in his eyes was difficult to see.

“Are… you okay?” I asked.

His hands moved in the depths of his overcoat. He blinked heavily. “Yeah. Thanks… for asking. Still reading romances?” He gestured to a row of books with a trembling hand.

“Remember how I’d smuggle them in for you? Does the new guy do that?”

My throat wouldn’t relax. I shook my head.

“Do you know what I used to do when we’d come here?” he asked. He stepped closer. “I’d stand over there.” He nodded toward somewhere at my left. I didn’t look. “And watch you. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, even to look at books. You’re so beautiful, Ashlyn.”

I swallowed. I’d caught him watching me on more than one occasion, and had been creeped out by it.

“Have you heard back from any schools?” he asked with urgency.

“ You’re still planning on going to college, right?”

“Yes, I am. Look, I have to go.” I left Stuart, rounded the corner of the aisle and joined Colin, engrossed in reading.

He looked up. The relaxed look on his face stretched tight.

“What happened?” He slipped the book back on the shelf and stepped close to me, touching my arm. I couldn’t believe he could tell—with just a look—that something was wrong.

“I—uh—ran into someone from school. Someone I don’t like very much.”

His pointed gaze skipped around the store for a second. “Did something happen?”

“No. Why?”

“You look a little pale. Want to get something to drink?”

The smile working its way onto my lips helped me to temporarily forget my run in with Stuart. I nodded.

We took the escalator up, his arm brushing mine when he stepped aside so a bookseller could hurry past us. Worries about running into Stuart invaded me. I’d grown up on the rightwing of suspicion. Daddy had told me statistically, you’re in danger if you see the same stranger more than three times.

Stuart wasn’t a stranger, but he wasn’t a friend either. Mother and Daddy would flip out if they knew I’d seen him. They’d never let me come to the bookstore again.

The escalator continued up, and I scanned the second floor. My heart rattled. Stuart stood near the exit, eyes locked on me as he walked out the door.

Your Presence is Requested

At the Annual

Holiday Season Celebration of

Charles and Fiona Adair

The Residence:

2029 Park Avenue, New York, NY

Black Tie.

R.S.V.P.

212.555.4935

CHAPTER TWELVE

The townhouse bustled with caterers and decorators preparing for the Christmas party. Two white trucks were parked out front, causing traffic on Park Avenue to slow, drivers peering at the mansion. Loads of delicacies and Christmas decor for the party were carried inside. Colin remained stationed at the front door to thwart any security disruptions.

Workers unloaded dozens of shrink-wrapped pine trees in all shapes and sizes. Each tree was then unwrapped, colored with white lights, bows, bulbs, and ornaments, each with its own theme.

Fresh evergreen swags, rich with the scent of pine and nutty cones, were hung over doors, strewn along three-stories of banisters, and dripped from sconces throughout the halls. Every year, the decorating teams worked faster than the last. By the end of the day, the house was ready for Mother’s final inspection before the decorators were released.

Since lunch had passed, I took Colin an apple. He had an iPad in one hand, the other held the front door open so workers had the freedom to come and go.

“Hey, thanks.” Colin’s smile swept my heart up and around. I smiled. Hands occupied, he grinned. I lifted the apple to his mouth and his teeth sunk in. We shared a laugh. Then, his gaze lit on something behind me. He stopped chewing.

I glanced over my shoulder. Daddy stood under the archway, his eyes latched on us. Darkness shadowed his face, and panic lanced through me.

“Daddy.” I crossed to him. His hard gaze remained fixed on Colin.

I lifted to my toes and kissed his cheek. His sharp focus on Colin broke, like he finally realized I was there, and he looked at me.

“Princess.”

“The house is almost done.”

“That will make your mother happy,” he murmured.

“It looks fantastic,” I said. He kept glancing at Colin, who remained posted at the door.

Finally, he nodded, turned and disappeared into his office. I followed him, closing the doors with a soft clip.

“Something wrong?” I crossed to him at his desk where he stood reaching for a cigar.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“You look… troubled. Is it Colin?”

His gaze pierced me. “You two seem to be getting along better.”

He didn’t move a muscle, waiting for my response. Still unsure about his motives where Colin was concerned, I shrugged indifferently.

“Have your feelings for him changed?” His eyes brightened, irises opening wide, exposing mysterious black depths.

“I’ve gotten over it, just like you’ve asked me to.”

His lawyer-sharp gaze quartered me: heart, head, body, and soul, searching each part for discrepancies. He drew in a deep breath.

“He’s your employee, Daddy.”

His shoulders relaxed when I called Colin an employee. He crossed to me. “I don’t want Stuart happening again.”

I shuddered for his benefit. “Me either. May I invite Felicity to the party?”

“I guess it’s only right that you have a chum.”

I threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

His finger brushed my cheek. “Warn your mother.”

I nodded.

“I suppose you’ll need your cell phone to call her.”

“It wasn’t Felicity who invited me to Ninety-Nine, Daddy. It was Danicka Fiore.”

“Yes, well, stay away from Miss Fiore.” Daddy rounded the corner of his desk and unlocked one of the drawers. I glanced at the roaring lion head carved into the wood at the top of one of the legs. I’d often wondered why Daddy surrounded himself with frightening images. Like the paintings of lions on the African plains, tearing into prey.

He produced my cell phone and extended it to me. “That’s mostly for my piece of mind. And so Colin can be in constant communication with you, if necessary.”

Constant communication with Colin? An absolute necessity.

Mother allowed Felicity to attend as my guest on one condition: that Mother pick what Felicity wore. Felicity was a good sport about Mother’s snobbery, and she didn’t have a problem with Mother borrowing a dress from a designer friend.

“I think I like your mom.” Felicity examined herself in my bathroom mirror. For the party, I slicked her short brown hair back and fastened the unruly ends in a blingy hair lock. The hairstyle worked well with the strapless black gown Mother had found for her. I was amazed how well the dress fit, seeing that Felicity hadn’t gone in for any adjustments. Mother really did know bodies and clothes.

She’d chosen a retro-looking strapless, ivory dress for me, the bodice overlaid in delicate lace and beads. A transparent sun-bleached, shell-colored shrug draped over my shoulders. The hanging edges of the shrug looked like they’d been dripped in delicate beads that flashed and fired with each movement.

“You look like an angel.” Mother had said during my first fitting.

“Isn’t this the wrong color for a Christmas party?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Do I look okay?” Felicity asked now, brushing more blush on her cheeks. She had enough color to make her look like she’d spent the day at the circus, so I covertly took the container from her before any more damage was done, and set it aside.

“You look gorgeous.”

“I’m so excited.” Felicity bounced like a toddler on a trampoline.

“I get to dress up and eat something other than Chinese food.”

I hadn’t seen Colin yet, but I’d imagined him in a tailored tuxedo.

Prada had designed their latest look in the cleaner cut, tapered design of the sixties. Colin would look hot in that style. He’d look hot in any style.

The string quartet mother had hired for the party played, and their classical renditions of Christmas carols started wafting through the house like holiday perfume on the air.

The party had been in swing for about an hour and the temptation to make an entrance was strong—only to see how Colin reacted to seeing me dressed up. Mother and Daddy were far too busy entertaining their guests to notice where Felicity and I spent our time.

I counted on that.

I took one last look in the mirror. My blonde hair hung in loose ribbons to my shoulders, a hint of sparkles randomly glittering from the pale vanilla depths. Around my neck was a black ribbon choker with a single stone in the center.

“Wow, Ash,” Felicity whispered. “He’s not going to be able to help himself.”

I turned in the mirror, making sure every angle was perfect. “Let’s hope, right?”

We hooked arms and took the stairs down. The entry was packed with black tuxes and a tapestry of glittering designer gowns.

An overload of colognes and perfumes, mixing with hundreds of evergreen scented candles around the house, wafted upward, scenting the thickening air.

Colin had hired three extra security guys for the night. All of them looked to be older than him, one even had gray temples. The gray-templed man stood at the front door checking off guests from a roster on Colin’s iPad. I’d seen the other guys posted at exits: one in the kitchen, at the back door. Another was on the upstairs patio—