Uncovering You 7: Resurrection (7 page)

She looks at me, frozen for a moment in absolute terror. Then, she lowers her eyes.

“I…I can’t say,” she mutters.

“Why?” I challenge. “Why can’t you say, Rose? What is it that you don’t want to tell me?”

“You’re wrong,” she says. “I
do
want to tell you, Miss Ryder. Truly, I do. But I can’t. I made a promise. A vow. If I break it now, after all these years…” she shudders. “Horrible things will happen. Bad things.”

“Bad things?” I say. “Bad things to whom? To you? By whose hand? Jeremy’s?”

She starts shaking her head.

“Who is it, Rose? Who threatened you? Tell me if it’s Jeremy!”

“I can’t say,” she repeats, over and over again. “I can’t say. I can’t tell you. I cannot. I can’t.”

I hesitate, trying to make up my mind. There are two ways I can go. Two ways I can take things.

I can either be brattish and stubborn, or…I can be kind. I truly believe that the woman before me needs kindness ahead of anything else.

So I reach across the table and place a hand on her arm. She looks up at me, and then at my hand, almost as if in shock.

“Rose?” I say gently. “I don’t blame you. If Jeremy has something on you that keeps you here, I understand. He can be a frightening man. I know that. He’s very powerful. You don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

She starts crying again. “Th-thank you. Thank you, Miss Ryder. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve your understanding or your…your sympathy.”

“But you have it,” I assure her. “Only if you promise me one thing. Can you do that, Rose?”

“I-I can try.”

“Promise you won’t feel scared of me again. I might not know what keeps you here. But I’d much rather have you as a friend than as an enemy.”

“I think—” She wipes her eyes, and smiles. “—I think that I can do that, for you.”

Chapter Nine

Even if I didn’t ever get a satisfactory answer from Rose, at least I now know where we stand.

She and Jeremy have history. I wonder if it’s anything like mine. Twenty years is a long time to have known someone. Though I have no way of telling, I suspect that Rose did not spend two decades as a mere housekeeper.

Also. While her breakdown today was certainly genuine, I do not think she is as fragile as she wants me to believe. Despite everything, there is a certain intelligence that she tries to mask. Maybe it’s her speech, or maybe it’s her general mannerisms, but I truly believe she was the benefactor of a good education. A ‘proper upbringing’, as she’d put it.

That’s what makes the mystery of her presence so intimidating. She is not just a housekeeper, no. Jeremy turned her into one. He must have.

How long has she been playing the role? The age difference between her and Jeremy is intriguing, too.

The only person I’ll ever get answers from, however, is currently absent.
Working
, as I should be. He did not let me make the decision to stay home. He took it out of my hands.

But I’m not being cooped up here like a teenager. Nothing says I have to stay on the property. In fact, today is the perfect day to get out of the house, and take advantage of the chauffeur Jeremy offered.

I ring Simon. He tells me he’ll bring the limousine to the doors in two minutes. I’m dressed and ready to go by the time he arrives.

“Where to, Miss Ryder?” he asks me.

“Let’s go downtown,” I answer. “I might want to get a bite to eat. I missed lunch.”

He nods and we roll forward. “Any preference?” he asks.

“Let’s just drive around and see if anything catches my eye.”

A few minutes later, I ask, “Hey Simon, did you…find me in the office building yesterday?”

“Oh yeah,” he says quickly, almost too casually. “Definitely. Mr. Stonehart sent me to give you a message.”

“Why didn’t he just…oh, I don’t know, call me himself?” I wonder aloud.

“Beats me,” Simon shrugs. “He wanted me to give you that stack of photos, as well. There were some nice shots in there, weren’t there?”

“You looked at them?” I ask, surprised.

“Sure. Dunno if I was supposed to, though, but the envelope wasn’t sealed, and I’ve always been more curious than most.”

“Hmm,” I intone. Something about that doesn’t jive. I know how much Jeremy values his privacy. Would he really permit his
driver
to go through photographs of us?

We get to a part of downtown full of pretty little shops and quaint boutiques. I ask Simon to stop and let me off. “I’ll call you when I need to be picked up,” I say.

I stroll through the streets. The overcast sky isn’t exactly uplifting, but there’s a crispness to the air that is refreshing. Winter in California is nothing like winter on the East Coast.

I find a small Greek place that looks interesting. It’s styled in white and blue plaster so reminiscent of the Mediterranean. I walk inside, order a table, and sit down.

Not two minutes later, Jeremy Stonehart walks through the door.

I see him before he sees me. His eyes scan the tables, find mine, and the next think I know, he’s striding over. He looks furious.

“Lilly,” he says, as he comes up to me. There is no room in his voice for ‘hellos’. “Tell me, right now, just what the hell you’re doing here.”

I bristle. “Me? I’m getting lunch. I would be at work, but
somebody
took the courtesy of making that decision out of my hands.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you stalking me?”

He ignores the question, rips the second chair out from under the table, and sits. Everything about him—from his posture, to the almost imperceptible tick in his neck—tells me he’s on edge.

“I left you at home so that you could
recover
from your episode yesterday. That is where I expect you to be.”

“Well, I’m not,” I challenge. “In case you happened to forget, I don’t have a collar binding me to your property any longer. You said so yourself: I’m free to go wherever I want.” I stare at him, defiant. “Or have you changed your mind about that already?”

He slams one hand on the table. I jump. “Don’t test me,” he growls. “I have enough concerns on my mind already. I don’t want worries about you added to the mix.”

“Then don’t worry,” I state. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about all your other ‘concerns’.”

“You,” he says, his voice grinding, “are making this damn near impossible for me to tolerate, Lilly,”

“What? That I’m not on your leash any longer?”

“No,” he says. “That you’re giving such poor regard to your health.”

“By leaving your property?” I challenge.

“By leaving my property
today
,” he growls. “Listen,” he leans closer. “You’re not just in a relationship with me, Lilly. You’re also an employee of Stonehart Industries. An employee who’s found herself in a very elevated position, for someone her age. A company’s employees are its biggest asset and its biggest
liability
.” He emphasizes the last word, filling it with meaning.

“So that’s how you think of me?” I spit. “As a liability to your precious empire?”

“That’s not what I said. But don’t you think, after your histrionics yesterday, that it would be better—for you, for me, for the public image of Stonehart Industries—if you just laid low for a day or two, and took advantage of the free time I’ve given you?”

“I’ve had nothing
but
free time, Jeremy, for weeks on end, in case you haven’t noticed. And you still haven’t answered my question: How did you know I was here? Actually, that’s not hard to guess. Simon told you. The better question is: How did you get here so fast?”

“I take care of things that are important to me, Lilly,” he hisses. “
That
is how I’m here so fast. I’ve come to take you home.”

My back stiffens. “No.”

Jeremy’s eyes darken. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘no’,” I repeat. “I’m a free woman. I can go wherever I want.”

“That may be,” Jeremy says. I can see him trying to control himself. “But there are still certain
expectations
of you that come from being linked to me.”

He reaches into his pocket and takes out a stack of photographs, and practically flings them across the table.

“More pictures you had taken?” I almost sigh.

“Not I,” Jeremy says. “Look.”

I go through them. They start with me in the limo, leaving Jeremy’s estate. You can’t see through the tinted glass, but I recognize the car. The shots continue, from the back, from the side, of the vehicle in traffic. And then—there are ones of us pulling to a stop. Of me getting out. Of me stepping into this very restaurant.

“These were taken minutes ago,” I whisper.

“Yes,” Jeremy confirms. “You’re lucky Simon knows what to watch for. Otherwise, these would be all over the papers tomorrow, and online tonight.”

“So I’m being followed?” I say, not immediately understanding. “Stalked?”

“By paparazzi, Lilly. They’re relentless. Like hounds. Now that you’ve been linked to me, everything you do in public will come under the highest scrutiny.”

I feel sick. I feel
duped.
It was only a few hours ago that I was reveling in not having everything I do be recorded. Now, I find that every time I’m outside, I’m under much the same surveillance—if not
worse
?

At least before, I knew that only one person had access to the tapes. Jeremy. Now, my entire life feels like it’s been exposed.

“What does it matter to them what I do?” I ask faintly. “Why do they care about my life?”

“Because of what it can tell them about me,” Jeremy says. He sounds impatient. “This might be a lot to take in, Lilly, but you’re now a public figure. Because of both your position with Stonehart Industries and your connection to me.” He sneers. “There’s no denying our relationship in the office any longer.”

“But how did
you
get these photographs? They’re so
recent
…”

“I think you know how persuasive I can be,” he says, “when I put my mind to something. Now do you see why I want you to remain on my estate, where you’re safe from prying eyes?”

I nod, slowly, feeling all the joy and excitement of being let outside seep out of me like water from a leaky tub.

“Do you understand
now
that I have your best interest at heart? Are you willing to admit that much, at least, Lilly?”

Again, I nod.

“Good.” He stands. “I need to be back in the office. Simon will take you home. You’re lucky I was close by when you came here, Lilly. God forbid you had another episode like yesterday out here where anybody could see.”

He turns and walks away. That’s it. No affection. No warmth. No sympathy. No good-bye.

Just cold, hard Stonehart, stating his demands.

His last comment felt like a punch in the gut. Is he going to continue referring to that incident forever?

A moment later, Simon comes through the door. I shield my face when I’m out on the street. We get in the limousine, and drive all the way home.

Chapter Ten

There are still no messages or calls from Fey by evening. I am probably an idiot to expect anything else.

But the thing is…I
was
hoping to hear from her. I know she’s doubtlessly still mad at me. I just thought the message that I left might be enough to convince her to give me another chance.

Maybe too little time has passed. Maybe I just need to be more patient.

I can do that, can’t I? I know how to be patient. Hell, I’ve endured far worse in the first few weeks under Stonehart’s care.

But back then I had a purpose. I had determination. I had a goal, an end-point, in mind.

And now? Now, I just feel lost. Lost and alone. I may have unlimited freedom. But what am I doing with it? I thought I’d be tunneling my way into the underbelly of Stonehart Industries. After what happened yesterday, who knows where I stand?

And Jeremy…Jeremy has gone cold. He’s as impassive as he was when I knew him as Stonehart.

Probably because I’ve disappointed him. He told me that he wanted my mind. He said that’s what he valued in me. He called me strong, independent, passionate…

Was all that whisked away by my breakdown last night? Has all that evaporated like drops of oil on a hot skillet? How far have I backtracked with him? How much do I need to rebuild?

Of course that’s not the worst. The persistent doubts about my own sanity are. I need reassurance: Something or someone to tell me objectively that I’m not crazy.

Because if I can’t even trust myself anymore, how little do I have left?

***

I’ve made up my mind when Jeremy gets home. There’s something that I need to do: Something that I’ve been putting off for far too long. Something that I think just might help put things in perspective for me.

“Jeremy.” I interrupt him while he’s eating. He looks across the table at me. It’s the first word we’ve said to each other all night.

I place my hands firmly against the oak and sit high. “I want to see my mother.”

“Hmm.” He looks me over, chewing the bite of meat in his mouth slowly. He swallows, then takes a sip of wine. He puts the glass down.

“Fine,” he says, and cuts into his steak.

I blink. That’s it? No warnings, no debates, no…anything?

“Fine?” I ask.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” He keeps his eyes on his plate. “Don’t make me repeat myself. If it’s my permission you’re looking for, you have it. You may go. But,” a cruel little smile curves his lips, “you know that you don’t need it anymore.”

“What about…work?” I venture, carefully.

“Stonehart Industries operated just fine without you, and will continue to do so until your return. A sabbatical now seems like the best option for all parties involved.”

My gut clenches. I knew it. I
knew
what Jeremy saw in me yesterday ruined whatever impression I’ve managed to build up.

The question is: How far back to ‘square one’ am I?

“Do you know where she is?” Jeremy asks.