Overprotected

by Jennifer Laurens

  “Who?”

  “Danicka Fiore.”

  A pause followed. My stomach tore in two.

  “Charles, we didn’t start out going to the party. We went to the bookstore.”

  “I see.” Daddy’s tone changed. Colder. The sweat coating my skin iced over.

  “So you accompanied Ashlyn to the bookstore, and then what?

  The two of you decided you needed to go to a seedy nightclub?”

  “No, that’s not—”

  “What, damn it?”

  “We… started off at the bookstore and she left from there.”

  “Left? Alone?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Ashlyn took a cab to Ninety-Nine. Alone. Where were you when this happened?”

  “She was in one section of the bookstore and I was in—”

  “That was your first mistake, leaving her by herself. I thought I made myself clear when I hired you that I didn’t want her unprotected out in public. Ever. What part of that don’t you understand?”

  “I’m sorry, you’re right. I take full responsibility.”

  “You’re damned right you’ll take full responsibility. Do not leave her side. She’s not allowed to attend such functions.”

  “She’s… not? Ever?”

  My heart pounded. A choking silence seeped through the closed doors.

  “What distresses me most about this is that she’d sneak away from you. She never told you that she intended to go to Ninety-Nine?”

  Oh no. The truth would punish us both. “No, sir. Again, I apologize.”

  Silence followed, and my nerves bunched tight wondering what was happening. I wanted to open the door, but fear paralyzed me.

  “After you discovered she was gone, how did you know where to find her?”

  “Danicka had invited me to the party. I declined. But she’d mentioned that she’d also invited Ashlyn.”

  I covered my mouth with my fingers.

  “How long had she been there when you arrived?” Daddy asked.

  “I got there just as she was escorted into the building.”

  “I see.” Daddy’s voice sounded calmer now. I took a deep breath.

  Maybe this wouldn’t be a big deal after all.

  “So.” Daddy’s steady courtroom tone returned. “Ashlyn had just entered the establishment when you found her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank god for that. One of my partners handles the owners.

  Ninety-Nine might be decent enough for the average idiot in New York City, but the place is far too vile for Ashlyn.”

  Colin didn’t respond.

  “I don’t want anything like this happening again,” Daddy commanded. “Frankly, I’m surprised at your lack of professionalism.”

  “I understand. Again, I apologize.”

  “Her behavior—sneaking off —is inexcusable to say the least. I’m going to talk to her.”

  A lump choked my throat. It wouldn’t be long before I’d see Daddy. I quickly took the stairs up, closed my bedroom door and locked it. Though locking was futile.

  Whenever Daddy knocked on my door, I opened it.

  After turning off the light I got into bed. My heart raced in my chest. Fear ran side-by-side with panic. Moments later, the knock came. Faking that I’d been asleep wasn’t something I could do. Daddy could see through my performance.

  I flicked on the lamp next to my bed, got up and crossed to the door. Daddy’s stony expression sent a shiver through my bones. He didn’t ask to come in, he stepped over the threshold and closed the door. “What happened tonight?”

  I remained silent.

  “Ashlyn?”

  “I went to a friend’s party.”

  Daddy’s eyes widened for a millisecond—almost as if he couldn’t believe I’d told him the truth. Or that I’d had the nerve to defy him and go to a party.

  “Where was it?”

  “At Ninety-Nine. It’s a club.”

  “I know damned well what it is,” Daddy ground out. His skin began to redden at the base of his collar. “Give me your phone.”

  I lifted my chin, turned, retrieved my cell phone from the stand at the side of my bed and plopped it into his open palm.

  His eyes flared. “Apparently Felicity is not the friend we thought she was, if she invited you to such an event.”

  He knew Felicity hadn’t invited me. Anger and hurt burned the back of my neck. Was he determined to strip me of every friend I had?

  “Felicity didn’t invite me.”

  “Oh? Then who?”

  I didn’t respond, too furious.

  “You’re angry?” he asked. “Were you running away from Colin? I know how much you hate him.”

  Is that what he wanted? I glared at him.

  “Did you fire him?” I asked.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “I want you to let me do things everyone else my age is doing.”

  “You have the best this world has to offer.”

  “Not freedom.”

  His expression remained unchanged. So controlled. Another round of anger raced through my blood but I mirrored his controlled demeanor. He seemed to ponder my words for a few uncomfortable, quiet seconds, then he tucked my cell phone into his pocket. “We’ll finish this discussion in the morning.”

  He left.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I wanted to stay buried beneath my covers the next morning.

  Gray light streamed through the tiny slits of the large shutters covering my windows. Instinctively, I reached next to my bed for my phone, but the spot on the side table was empty. I hoped Felicity was smart enough not to send me any Mother and Daddy bashing texts. For sure Daddy would read whatever came into my phone.

  Soft sounds overhead lured my thoughts to Colin. In spite of the fact that I knew I’d face some sort of retribution for last night’s outing, dancing with Colin… his nearness… the music…

  his attention so riveted to me… a warmth flurried and spread throughout my body. I closed my eyes, reaching for the feel of him next to mine. Of his arms around me.

  A smile lit my lips.

  Upstairs, a thud. Another.

  I threw back the covers, stood and wrapped my robe around me. The clock by my bedside glowed eight AM. Mother and Daddy wouldn’t be awake for hours. Cracking open the door, I crossed to the stairs and peered up. Colin’s bedroom door was shut, but I heard another thud.

  What is he doing?

  I took the stairs up, arrived at the landing and thought better of sticking around, curious or not. I was the last person he wanted to see after last night. If he caught me spying on him, he’d really think I was weird. I turned, ready to head back down the stairs and to the piano when his door opened. I froze.

  “Ashlyn?”

  Oh no. This can’t be happening. I turned before realizing I hadn’t even washed my face yet. Ugh. He was dressed in grey sweats and a soaking-wet tee shirt. The moist tips of his hair hung in a muss around his face like, a dark halo. He held a sweat shirt in his hands, poised to pull the garment over his head.

  “Um. Hi.”

  “Everything okay?” he whispered, glancing down the stairs. He stepped out into the hall, and I caught his musky scent.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I’m going for a run.” He paused a second, and I thought a scant wariness—maybe from my behavior last night—flickered in his eyes.

  “Want to come?”

  The last thing I wanted was for him to ask me because he felt obligated, or because he didn’t trust me. I shook my head. He lifted the sweatshirt over his head and his tee shirt lifted, baring ripped lower abs. I bit my lip. The sweatshirt fell into place, his dark hair popping out, his eyes sparkling in a smile that sent my pulse skipping.

  “So, you work out?” Duh. Didn’t he just say that?

  “Yeah, here and there. Hey, about last night.” His scent swamped me: damp and male. He inched closer, to keep our conversation from traveling.

&
nbsp; “Yeah, I—I’m sorry if you… got in trouble,” I said.

  “Ash.” His tone cut through me like a hot spoon through cream.

  “I’m here to protect you. That’s what your father wants. You taking off like that last night—”

  “I really am sorry you got caught in the middle of Daddy and me. He doesn’t understand how I feel.” Helpless. Caged. I looked away.

  “He’s concerned about your safety.”

  “He’s more than concerned,” I muttered.

  He eyed me. He seemed to hem a moment, like he wanted to say something more. “Clubs have the 21 age limit for a reason.”

  “I know.” My gaze fell to my feet, afraid of what I’d see in his eyes.

  When the silence between us thickened, I looked at him. Curiosity veiled his face. He stuffed his hands into the front pocket of the hoodie.

  “Do you know any self defense?”

  “A little. They had a class in PE once.”

  He nodded. “When I get back, I’m going to teach you a few moves. You cool with that?”

  I swallowed. He’s talking about self defense, get a grip. “Sure.”

  “You positive you don’t want to run?”

  Did he think my life was sad and pathetic now? Is that why he offered an opportunity for freedom again?

  “No thanks.”

  “You’re going to stay here, right?” His dimples flashed in a teasing grin. But the scant wary trust I’d seen in his expression seconds ago resurfaced. I felt guilty about the whole incident. His dark eyes penetrated me. I could barely tolerate his scrutiny—deserving as I was of it.

  He jogged down the stairs. I blew out a breath when he went outside, the stairwell echoing with his absence.

  What had I done? I’d made myself into this complete idiot, running to that stupid party. I sunk to the stair and buried my face in my hands. Now, Colin didn’t trust me. Who knew what I had coming from Mother and Daddy. I wanted freedom, yes, but now that Colin was here, I wanted him to see me as… what?

  Not a baby.

  Not a girl.

  Not a self absorbed teenager.

  I don’t know what I’d expected from Danicka’s party, but seeing her and her model minions high, surrounded by drugs and drinks, and being accosted by gyrating older guys was not what I’d pictured when I’d envisioned myself at a club. My fantasy was more like me being the in the spotlight, dancing and flirting.

  I showered and dressed in jeans and a striped pink hoodie-shirt, and decided to spend the day on the patio with a book. Maybe Mother and Daddy, when they sought me out to hand down punishment, wouldn’t go ballistic with hundreds of eyes watching from surrounding apartments.

  Colin’s bedroom door was open, and as I took the stairs up I caught his scent sneaking out, as if teasing me. I took a deep breath, grinned and continued up the narrow stairs to the patio.

  Unable to concentrate on my novel, I set my book aside and crossed to the railing. I gazed down at the street in hopes of catching a glimpse of Colin on his way back. Sundays were a little quieter on Park Avenue. Traffic streamed at a less hurried pace. Instead of dark suits and dressy jackets striding down the sidewalks, runners in sweats jogged and the occasional little white-haired lady walked her white, perfectly coiffed Maltese.

  A soft breeze streamed between the buildings. The wintry air lifted my hair and tossed it around my face so I tied the long, honeyed strands into a knot. I gazed left and didn’t see Colin. Right.

  In the distance I saw his lanky form in an efficient, rhythmic run, sweeping around the random pedestrian as he headed toward the townhouse.

  A tingle skittered over my skin.

  He slowed and stopped in front of the townhouse, his gaze glancing up, catching me. I waved, trying to appear casual. He waved back.

  Yes, I’m watching your every move. I shrunk, grabbed my book and plopped back into the chair. The patio door opened and my heart somersaulted in my chest. I jerked around.

  Daddy, dressed in a casual pair of slacks and a sweater, strode toward me.

  “You’re up already?” I asked.

  “Yes, I am.” He towered over me. I kept my eyes on my book.

  “Your mother doesn’t know about what happened last night. I’m giving you the responsibility to tell her. I have an engagement, so I will discuss this with her later. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The most distressing part of this is that you’d go to such a low-life establishment.”

  The back of my neck started to burn. I only nodded.

  His hand reached out and I jerked back, thinking he might rip the book from my hands. His outstretched hand remained poised between us, the look in his eye shock and hurt. “I was only going to touch your head, Princess.” His tone carried a wound.

  “Oh.” I swallowed.

  His hand slowly fell to his side, and he studied me a moment before leaning over and gently kissing the top of my head. Then he left.

  A pang of guilt slapped my heart. I’d hurt his feelings, reacting like that. But, an eye for an eye, right? Did that make me a bad person?

  The door opened and Mother teetered out. She had on her black, bug-eye Prada glasses, a silky white jogging suit, her hair mussed like she’d just torn herself from bed.

  “Ugh,” she groaned, falling into the lounge chair I’d just fantasized seeing Colin and me in. “I need a Rockstar. My head is throbbing.”

  I chuckled. Mother kept a stash of Rockstars in the kitchen. “Why didn’t you get one?”

  She reclined in the seat with a heavy sigh, and I was certain her eyes were closed behind her sunglasses. “Go get one for me, will you darling? We need to talk about the Christmas party and I need my brain clear. Go. Go.”

  “Mother.”

  “Ash-lyn,” she commanded.

  She didn’t want to get the drink because she didn’t want Colin seeing her smashed. I let out a loud sigh, set my book down and rose.

  “Spare me the attitude, young lady.”

  “Maybe when you quit calling me that.” Yanking open the door, I made sure it slammed behind me. On the third floor, I couldn’t resist a glance toward Colin’s bedroom. The door was open, and the fresh scent of soap tickled my nose, luring me.

  I continued on down the stairs, a grin on my face as I imagined Colin—just out of the shower.

  Gavin was in the kitchen, his humpty-dumpty presence lumbering about in the space, made the area feel smaller.

  “Morning Miss Adair.”

  “Morning.”

  I opened the refrigerator and snagged a chilled Rockstar for Mother, turned and smacked into Colin’s chest. The dampness of his fresh, clean skin sent a wave of bubbles through my stomach.

  “Hey.” His eyes teased. “Those are bad for you, you know.”

  “That’s why they’re irresistible,” I quipped, batting my lashes.

  His grin slowly faded, and his eyes drew sharp. He stepped back, swallowed. Had I said the wrong thing?

  Gavin cleared his throat, drawing our attention to him.

  “The items you requested are on the third shelf, left side of the pantry,” Gavin said flatly, cocking his brow at Colin. “In the future, I would ask you to leave me one of these,” Gavin pointed to a stack of yellow Post-It notes on the counter, “on the face of the refrigerator every Monday.”

  Colin nodded. “Sure. Thanks, Gav.” He crossed to the pantry and disappeared inside. Gavin rolled his eyes at Colin’s shortening of his name, but I liked that Colin felt comfortable enough to step forward with the nickname. The cold Rockstar sent chills up my arm, but I didn’t want to leave. Go, or he’ll think you’re a loser with nothing else to do.

  “Thank you.” Mother popped open the can and the sizzle sighed into the cold, breezy atmosphere. “Ah,” she took a long drink.

  “Nectar of the gods.”

  I snorted. She handed me the can and I took a sip.

  “Now.” She settled into the chair like a minx on a blanket. “What are
you going to wear to the party? And if you say that black Betsey Johnson thing you’ve got hanging in your closet I will lock you in your room that night. I want you in something classic.”