“I’m sorry, Austin,” Addison says. “I didn’t think she’d hold out this long. And as much as I want to play matchmaker—because we all know how much I rock at that gig—Janey and I promised not to tell you where she is.”
“I know, Addie, I’m not asking you to break your word. Graham won’t give me any info, either.” Suddenly tired, I drop onto the bench next to where she and Roman are standing. Bracing my elbows on my knees, I stare at my hands hanging between my legs and focus on my lungs sawing in and out with air.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Jane starts, “but she only told us we couldn’t tell him where to find her. She never told us we couldn’t bring her to him.”
My head snaps up to meet the gaze of the most innocent of us all, who just suggested a devious work-around for Emi’s stubbornness. Even Chance is looking at his girlfriend like he’s not quite sure who she is. Addie, of course, latches on with both hands, and I adore her for it.
“Oh my God, Janey, yes,” she says, grabbing up Jane’s hands, the familiar light of mischief in her eyes. “We can have a girls’ day and set the whole thing up like ‘oopsie, look where we ended up, somewhere that Austin just happens to be, and oh look at the time, we totes forgot we had to give Jane’s cat a bath and no that’s not a euphemism for her—’”
“Addie,” Jane whispers harshly while Chance and Roman chuckle behind their fists.
“Anyway, then we book it out of there, leaving the two of them to work things out and plan their wedding. Boom.”
Hope swells in my chest, but I try to keep it in check. “And what if she won’t listen to me? She seems pretty damn adamant that she doesn’t want to hear what I have to say.”
“Come on, bro, get creative,” Roman says. “I thought not taking no for an answer was your thing.”
Chance smirks and wraps his arms around Jane’s waist. “Yeah, man. Sometimes the best way to handle things is to speak the language they’re used to hearing.”
Jane’s cheeks turn bright red, telling me whatever Chance is referring to must have something to do with the way he got her back after fucking things up. Both of my friends had to do some pretty epic groveling with their women. It gives me hope that I might be able to do the same thing if I can just get in the same room with Emi.
If the girls are willing to help me out, then I’m ready to bring my A game. If Emi won’t listen to what I have to say in a conventional manner, maybe she’ll respond to something more unconventional.
“Let’s do it.” I stand, already feeling better than I have in a long time. “But first, I have a dragon to slay.”
Chapter Twenty
Emi
“We’re here, bitches! Get ready for some hands-on pampering, major relaxation, and more mimosas than we can drink.”
Addison looks over at me and Jane from behind her dark sunglasses with a huge smile on her face. I return the smile, thankful my sunglasses hide the fact that it doesn’t quite reach my eyes as I know hers and Jane’s do.
Jane threads her arm through mine. “Come on, Emi. Raquel said she’d meet us in the lobby.” Dutifully, I walk alongside my friends and behind the bellhop pushing our luggage, ready to keep this “happy face” firmly in place until I get home on Sunday.
The girls are genuinely excited about our weekend retreat to the North Crest Spa Resort where Raquel works as one of their top masseuses. I tried bowing out gracefully based on the unnecessary expense. Now that I’m on my own, I’ve grown very conscientious about my money and where it’s spent. But Raquel claims our stay and the services are all complimentary as part of her quarterly bonus package.
In other words, I had no excuse to turn down the offer.
It’s not that I don’t love being with the girls; I absolutely do. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have friends who like me for me, without any ulterior motives or conditions based on their dance careers. Despite the fact that things didn’t work out with me and Austin, the girls continued to call me. They were all a huge help to me during, as Addie called it, my princess-to-pauper transition, and I’m incredibly grateful to them for that.
It’s just that being around them is also a stinging reminder that…well, that things didn’t work out with me and Austin.
After he walked out of my life that night of the gala, I moved out of my childhood home, my castle on the lake. In a single night I lost my only living parent, my childhood friend, my home, and the man that I loved. It wasn’t a great night for me.
With nowhere else to go, I ended up driving to my uncle’s house. He gave me temporary refuge and a shoulder to cry on, for which I was extremely grateful, but I didn’t want to stay long. It was time I learned how to build my own life and look to the future. In less than a week, I had my own little apartment. I used part of my savings to furnish it, and since I’m not ready to talk to my father yet, Martin packed up everything from my old room and brought it over for me.
The first few weeks after losing everything was a crazy rollercoaster for me. I was either busy setting up my new life or crying over my old one. My feelings ran the gamut from excited to nervous to sad to hopeful and back again. It took all my mental strength just to make it through each day without having a breakdown. But underlying everything—even those rare moments of happiness—was the deep loss without Austin.
God, I miss him so damn much. His smile, those dimples, the way he whispers my full name at only the most special of times, and the Southern accent he pulls out at will when he’s being his most charming and flirtatious. I miss the way he held me in his arms, or laced our fingers together, or placed his hand on the small of my back, always wanting to be connected with me somehow as though it was the only way he found true peace.
I miss all those things and a thousand others…and yet I can’t bring myself to talk to him.
The swoosh of the automatic glass doors brings me out of my reverie as we enter the posh lobby. The outside of the resort is similar to a typical millionaire’s country club in the middle of sprawling grounds with impeccable landscaping and a massive fountain inside the semi-circular drive. But inside it looks nothing like my father’s country club sporting dark woods and stiff leather.
This was designed as an oasis of tranquility. It’s like stepping into a world of white with some accents of pale blue here and there. Even the employees are completely dressed in white. The only random colors that exist in this place are people’s hair colors, and I’m almost surprised those aren’t regulated for uniformity, too.
“Girls!” Raquel squeals as she greets us. “Are you ready to have the best weekend ever?”
“So ready,” Addie says. “I’ve been so stressed over my current case I think my knots have knots. Bring on the hunks with the magic hands.”
Raquel winces. “Roman and Chance promised very unpleasant things if I assigned male masseuses to you guys.”
Jane laughs knowingly, like she isn’t the least bit surprised, while Addison acts outraged at Roman’s upper-handed behavior for all of three seconds before smirking and vowing revenge on her boyfriend’s unmentionables.
“I promise you’ll still get an amazing massage, and if you want to know how the guys are with their hands, Emi and I will be happy to give detailed accounts.”
Raquel winks at me, and I give her a cheerful, “Definitely,” even though the idea of a man other than Austin touching me makes me a little queasy.
Giving us the rundown of our immediate itinerary and options for later, Raquel leads us into the west wing, which houses the spa facilities. Taking a deep breath, I vow to do my best to leave the sad and embrace the glad, and before I know it, I get caught up in the day’s activities and have fun with my friends.
Since it’s a girls’ weekend, we do everything as a group: hot stone massages, relaxing facials, and we top off the pampering with champagne mani-pedis before enjoying a casual dinner on the restaurant’s patio.
The entire afternoon is amazing. There’s never a dull mome
nt with Addison around, and she has me laughing until I cry more than once. The girls never leave me alone and rarely mention the guys, which isn’t necessary but is sweet of them all the same. It’s a day of female solidarity and fun, like an adult version of a slumber party—something I’d never experienced before—and their friendship has come to mean more than they’ll ever know.
By the time we’ve finished our dessert and two bottles of wine, we’re all hiding yawns behind our hands. Who knew getting pampered all day could be so exhausting? We decide to head up to our rooms and reconvene in the morning for breakfast and sunbathing by the pool.
“Emi, this is your room,” Raquel says as she hands me a keycard. “Your suitcase was brought up earlier so you’re all set.”
“Sounds great, thank you,” I say.
Raquel gives me a hug, then steps back to let Jane follow suit. “Remember, Emi,” Jane says, “open mind, open heart.”
I draw my brows in. “Um, okay sure.” I don’t know exactly what she means by that, but I chalk it up to Jane’s therapist side. Maybe she has a habit of spouting inspirational quotes or something.
Jane and Raquel smile and wave as they turn to walk down the hall. Addison isn’t the hyper-hugger her friends are, so I stand there a bit awkwardly when she hangs back.
She pins me with her intense aquamarine eyes but softens the effect with a half grin. “I know it’s not always easy hanging out with us because of he-who-shall-not-be-named,” she says. “And you know that I will always be loyal to him because for all intents and purposes, he’s part of my family.”
I nod, fighting to keep the smile on my face despite my stomach twisting into knots at the mention of Austin. “Yes, I know that.”
“I’m glad you understand.”
“I do.” I can call them my friends all I want, but in the end, Austin will always come first with them, which is how it should be. I’m not one of them, not really, so I’m not surprised to hear this from the badass of the group. But it still kind of stings, considering the lovely day we had.
“Good. Because I also want you to know that no matter what your situation is with him, you are now part of my Girl Posse.”
I freeze, trying to get my brain to jump the tracks and follow her meaning. “I…I am?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. And for the record, in case you’re not sure what that all entails, it means I’m also loyal to you, and in the case of Sisters vs. Misters, article 32, paragraph 4, line 6—I’m making this up, just go along with it—” I chuckle and nod for her to continue. “It clearly states that if he fucks up again, I get to kick him square in the nuts.”
She says that last part louder than what’s absolutely necessary, and I’m worried people in nearby rooms may have heard her. But I’m not going to criticize her enthusiasm when it’s so sweetly on my behalf. “Thank you, Addison. That means a lot to me.” Then I quickly clarify, “The loyalty and Girl Posse membership, not the kicking him in the nuts part. Although, I probably wouldn’t stop you, either.”
“Atta girl. Okay, bring it in for a hug, come on.” Addie gives me a short-but-sweet embrace, then winks. “Sweet dreams, Princess Emmélie.” Then she turns and lets herself into the room across from mine before I get the chance to ask her to just stick to calling me plain old Emi.
I hear the low rumbling of a male voice coming from behind her door and for a second think it must be Roman. But I brush the thought away because this is a weekend for the girls, and though I’m new at this Girl Posse thing, I’m fairly sure that would be breaking the rules.
Ready for a hot bath and a warm bed, I use my key card and open the door to—
Oh my God.
I step into the room lit up with what has to be dozens of pillar candles. They’re set out on every available surface, their dancing flames casting shadows on the walls. Glancing down, I find red rose petals scattered on the floor, creating a path to the king-size bed against the side wall. My heart beats faster. Either this resort goes above and beyond to set the mood or something else is going on. Something I don’t dare let myself hope for.
Wanting to feel the silky petals and plush carpet on my bare feet, I step out of my sandals and make my way to the bed. More petals surround a white envelope with my name scrawled on the front. My hands begin to shake as I pick it up. I’d recognize that handwriting anywhere.
It’s my father’s.
Thoroughly confused—it doesn’t make sense that my dad would set up an elaborately romantic setting just to correspond with me—I don’t waste time in opening it up to get to the letter inside.
My Dearest Emmélie,
Words cannot express how sorry I am for how I acted the night of the gala. It was not fair to anyone involved, especially you. In truth, I did not act honorably long before that night. I never should have pressured you into a marriage you did not want. I let my concern for your physical well-being overshadow my desire to see you truly happy.
Your young man has come to see me. Demanded is more accurate. I was not welcoming, and yet he insisted I listen to him. The passion with which he fights for you is admirable. It also reminds me of how I fought to be with your mother. When I saw her dance, I fell in love. He says it was the same for him. How can I refuse that?
The night of the gala, I led him to believe that I would disown you if you did not marry Marco. I hope you know me well enough to understand I would never have done that. But it served my purpose to let him come to his own conclusions. Again, I am very sorry. I am ashamed and disappointed in myself, as I am sure your mother would be if she were still here.
I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, but if you cannot, at least forgive Austin his mistake. He is not fully to blame, and he loves you. He will make you happy. He is your fairy tale, piccola principessa.
Ti amo,
Papà
My head is reeling, and as I read the words again they begin to blur from the tears filling my eyes. The petals on the bed stir slightly, and it’s only then that I realize the French doors to my private balcony are open, inviting the soft summer breeze to play with the delicate petals. There’s another path leading from the bed to the balcony, which I blindly follow, too overwhelmed to do anything other than see whatever this is through.
The stone balcony looks like something out of a story book, with candles grouped in clusters along the thick banister. Still clutching my father’s letter, I peer over the edge of the third-story drop and find…
Nothing. Just a manicured lawn that appears silver in the moonlight. Why do the petals lead out here if—
Then I feel it.
I feel him.
It’s been weeks since I’ve been in the same space as him, and yet I would recognize Austin’s presence if fifty years had passed. He’s in my blood, in my very bones. Familiar frissons of electricity race down my back like my skin is celebrating his nearness and begging for his touch.
“Good evening, princess.”
The breath I’d been holding shudders free as my eyes drift closed, squeezing out drops of hope and loss to slide down my cheeks. “What are you doing here, Austin?”
“I’ve come to claim what’s mine.”
His deep voice rumbles from behind me, low and sensual and confident, as though he already knows how this ends; as though my capitulation is a foregone conclusion and he’s here to simply collect his prize. And what pisses me off is the fact that it turns me on. His possessive nature draws me to him like a moth to a flame, despite knowing I’ll get burned if I get too close.
“I’m not your anything,” I bite back, fighting past the lump in my throat. “You walked out on me, remember?”
The tone of his voice softens, almost raspy with emotion. “It’s hard to forget the biggest mistake of my life.”
My heart swells for a split second before I puncture it with the one thing I need to remember…
He. Left. Me.
No real discussion, no attempt at a solution or compromise—just done. I never thought
Austin had any hang-ups, not serious ones. I was so sure I’d found a man with confidence and integrity, someone who respected me as my own person and not only for what my name or father’s financial standing could do for him. Someone who wanted to walk by my side in life but would carry me if I ever needed it.
And what’s been tearing me up inside is that I still believe he is all those things, and yet he chose to make up some bullshit about not being good enough for me and then walked away without a backward glance, shattering my heart in the process.
Steeling myself, I finally turn around and get my first look at the man who so easily crushed my soul over a month ago, and I freeze in shock. Austin is standing in the doorway to the room in full firefighter bunker gear, from helmet to boots. “Why are you here? And this time spare me the macho caveman answer.” Even though I like that answer, God help me.
Taking off his helmet, he holds it in front of him, his fingers blanching from the death grip he seems to have on it. “A while back, I said that if your father ever locked you in a tower, I’d come to your rescue. But when it came down to it, I failed you, Emi. I tucked tail and ran away like a fucking coward, and I’ve never been more ashamed of anything in my life.”
Regret shines in his eyes, and it nearly breaks my resolve to stay where I am. “So, then what is all this?”
“This is me trying to give you the fairy tale you deserve. That letter in your hand is me slaying your dragon, though not like you think. In this case, the dragon is the wedge between you and your father. I know how much he means to you, Emi, and I know this rift is probably eating you up inside.” My pride wants to deny that I’m hurting at all, but I can barely swallow around the lump in my throat, much less get out the weak lie. “I’m not excusing his actions, but his heart was in the right place.”
Dropping my gaze to the letter, my eyes are drawn to the part that keeps echoing in my mind. I led him to believe that I would disown you…
“As was yours, it would seem.”
“If you’d ended up like my mother, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”
Merciless (Playboys In Love Book 3) Page 17