Safer Together (The Safer Duet Book 2)

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Safer Together (The Safer Duet Book 2) Page 9

by Amy Rose


  No girl has ever seen this place, not even an interior decorator. I’m not the one-night-stand kind of guy, and lucky for me, Angela doesn’t seem to be a one-night-stand kind of girl herself, not that I wouldn’t mind having her every night for the rest of my life. But in order for that to happen, I have to win her back. Convince her that we can make it work. But how am I going to do that, when she’s left?

  No doubt, she ordered that cab to the airport, where she hopped on a bloody plane back to Nashville without even telling me. Not even one goddamn word, and now she won’t even answer any of my calls. “Fucking hell,” I groan out and throw the stress ball I have in my hands as hard as I can against the wall. Only the faintest sound emits when it finds its target, and not even a mark to say where it hit. I walk over to its resting place and bend to pick it up, and that’s when I hear the doorbell.

  Padding to the door my heart races momentarily, thinking she’s come back to me, before remembering that she doesn’t know about this place. And that ache comes right back and settles in my chest.

  I open the door without even looking through the peephole.

  “Put a damn shirt on, would you, Sands, I don’t want to see those abs,” Drake punches my shoulder as he walks on past.

  “You’re just jealous you don’t have a six-pack, my brother. Maybe you should turn one of those rooms in your apartment into a gym. It comes in handy, believe you me.”

  He turns on the spot and lifts his own shirt just slightly, “I’ve got one too you know, it’s not as defined as yours, but it’s there.” He turns again and makes his way toward the kitchen, opening the fridge and helping himself to a beer. “And why would I need a gym, when I can always come up and use yours? Besides I get enough exercise at our regular racquetball sessions. Which reminds me, we are overdue, man.”

  I shouldn’t be surprised. Drake and I have always made a habit of making ourselves at home in each other’s place. Having known each other for as long as we have, has its perks, like drinking the same beer, and it always being present in each of our refrigerators. I come back out of the bedroom pulling a black t-shirt on, before pouring myself a whiskey and lounging in the well-loved brown leather Chesterfield lounge chair. Drake takes up a spot on the couch opposite.

  “So, I’m guessing you didn’t call me all the way here to chat about putting a gym into my apartment. Did you? Nah, man, you wanted me to come up here to chat about your girl. Am I right? Speaking of whom, where is she?” Drake doesn’t mince his words. Direct, straight to the point, one of the reasons why he is so successful in business, and the reason why he and I get along so well.

  “Thanks for coming such a long way,” I smirk back at him “I just don’t know what to do man,’’ I murmur before lifting the glass of whiskey to my lips and having a sip, the toffee flavor lingering on my tongue. “I know I love her, it’s just so damn hard when she lives so far away. And leaving like she did tonight, without a damn word, I just don’t know why she would do that. We were getting along so well.”

  Drake nods in acknowledgement before taking a pull from his beer. “Stop giving me excuses. Distance is nothing when you have the amount of money we do, you have a private jet, for fuck’s sake. Anytime you’re thinking about her, you can be there within a few hours. Or send it down there to pick her up and bring her back to you. Stop sitting here pining about it and just hop on that plane and go to her, tell her how you feel. You’re going to feel like a dick if you don’t.” He has a point. Drake always does.

  “Can you think of why she would take off without telling you? I mean you said things were going well and all, but could you have missed something?” he says while waving his hand in front of him and putting into the side of his temple. Think man, a phone call maybe. Did you guys decide to take it up a notch after you left tonight and she refused?”

  I almost choke on my mouthful of whiskey at that comment. “You know damn well I wouldn’t make a move on her like that. I’m waiting, she is too, but fuck me, she makes it hard. Just looking at her sometimes makes me rock hard. I’ve never been affected by a woman like this. Never. And to make it worse, I never got to tell her how I feel. It happened so quick, man. Everything was good, we had an amazing night, the Christmas party went off without a hitch, dinner, drinks, we were heading home together. Someone called out from behind me, I answered their questions and by the time I turned around she was hopping into a fucking taxi and driving away, in the space of fifteen seconds.” I take another gulp of whiskey, followed by another, draining my glass, then resting it on my knee, on the edge of the base, rolling it around in circles.

  “How do you know she went back home then, if you haven’t been able to speak to her? I mean she could have gone back to your place,” Drake says, leaning forward slightly. “I mean, man, like you have said to me, she hasn’t got a ton of cash to spare, and this close to Christmas, everything is even more expensive.” Underneath his caring tone and his carefully chosen words, I hear what he was insinuating, I stand up then.

  “Great thinking Drake, I mean why didn’t I think about checking in at Sands Manor first?” sarcasm dripping heavily from my voice. “Of course, I fucking checked. She hasn’t been there, and the reason I think she has gone home is a plane took off to Nashville just over an hour after she left the party. She could have gotten there in time.”

  I made my way over to the whiskey decanter and poured myself another one, three fingers this time. I mean why not, the woman I love ran off on me, with no explanation. Life’s looking pretty damn crappy right now.

  “Has she got a smartphone?” Drake’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

  “Huh?”

  With a smile appearing on his face he speaks again. “Does Angela have a smartphone? We could check on her location, it would give you some peace of mind to know where she is, right?”

  I put my glass down on the table, next to the other empty ones. “Yeah, she does, an iPhone. Why didn’t I think of that sooner?”

  I turn on my heel and head for the study. I can hear Drake behind me. I walk behind my computer and type in my entry password and turn the computer to face Drake. While he is pulling up a program and entering his own classifications, I write down Angela’s phone number and slide it towards him. His hands begin flying across the keys quickly, and then he starts to enter her phone number. I walk around the other side of the desk and stand behind him, looking over his shoulder. As he hits enter, I see an hourglass appear, turning up and down. It happens four times before Angela’s phone location pops up.

  “If I’m looking at this correctly, Angela is in Central Park?” I ask Drake.

  He clicks on the mouse a few times and enlarges the screen getting a better idea of where. “Nah, man. She isn’t in Central Park, but she is in one of the buildings close by.”

  I wander over to the wall of windows and look outside. I can see Central Park from my own windows, she was close by. “Is she…” I began to ask before Drake cuts me off.

  “I just entered my phone number into the system to, just to see how far away she is. It looks like she is on the opposite side of the park to you. Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t they are all residential apartments though? Does she know anyone else here in New York?”

  My mind is swirling full of thoughts. She’s still here. I can find her. Who could she be seeing? Does she know anyone else here? That James fellow she works with mentioned her parents live here somewhere. Could she have run to their home? And most importantly, why on earth did she run from me?

  I decide then and there that I am going to find her, no matter what it takes. I’m not going to let Angela White leave me without a fight. No chance of that. I’m going to tell her how I feel and damn the fucking consequences. If she really was leaving me then she might as well know who she is leaving.

  A smile forms on my lips as I turn back around to face Drake. “Can you pinpoint exactly where she is?”

  “Nah man, not exactly. I can get you as close as the apartment
building. From there you’re on your own.”

  I nod, that would have to be good enough. “Give me as much info as you can, I’m going after my girl.”

  I leave the room without waiting for his response, walking down the hallway and into my bedroom. I pull off the t-shirt and pick back up the dress shirt and suit jacket I had worn tonight and put them back on, thankful I hadn’t taken my pants or shoes off yet. I wander into the bathroom and comb my hair, then toss around reasons both for and against brushing my teeth. The whiskey would still be on my breath whichever way I decided to go. I decide against it.

  Walking back out of my room I glance into the study; Drake was no longer there. I keep going to the living room where he had taken back his seat and was drinking his beer, eyes on his phone. He glances up as he hears me enter the room. “She is in the San Remo. She must know someone else with money, man, as those apartments don’t come cheap.”

  I know the building he was talking about well. I pick up my glass of whiskey and have another sip, followed by another and another.

  After allowing the last few drops of the whiskey to pass through my lips, I put the glass down a little too hard. “I’m going to go find her. You’re right. I’ve got to tell her how I feel. Bloody hell, man, what if she isn’t interested anymore?”

  Drake lifts his left eyebrow before speaking again “After asking me to find your girlfriend’s location I’m going to take a stab in the dark that the answer to my next question is no. Are you happy for her to just walk away, not even try to make a go of it?”

  I don’t even wait a second before replying, “Of course not, she’s mine.”

  A smile pulls up the corners of Drake’s mouth. “Then what the hell are you still doing here talking to me? Go get that girl of yours.” He stands up making shooing motions with his hands. “Get out of here man, I’ll lock up for you.”

  And with that I turn on my heel and take off, raising my phone to my ear. “Price, get the car ready, I know where Angela is.”

  “Of course, sir, I’ll be there in two minutes.” I end the call and put the phone into my pocket.

  A large smile begins to form on my lips, I know where she is. I’m going to see her shortly. One thing is for certain, I’m not letting her leave my sight again without her knowing exactly what she means to me.

  I exit the apartment and make my way to the elevator. I hit the call button just as a text message comes through, I open the screen, it’s from Angela:

  Elliot, I don’t want to talk right now, I wanted to let you know that I’m okay, but I need some space.

  My heart stops for a minute, she is okay, she may not want to talk, but I’m not giving up, I reply to her immediately:

  What did I do wrong?

  I hit send, she may not want to talk about it right now, but I was going to find out what on earth made her run away from me, run away from us. The elevator opens and I step in. I lift my fob to the screen and select the garage level. The elevator shuts and I ride down still looking at my phone. The doors open once more, Price is waiting by the car for me, he sees me coming and opens the rear passenger door for me. “Where are we off to sir?”

  I slide into the seat “San Remo.” he nods and closes the door.

  I type out another message, wanting to give her a chance to tell me where she is, see if she at least wants to talk to me face to face.

  I’m currently driving around the city. Let me know where you are, and I’ll come to you. We can talk about this. Please, Angie.

  I hit send before Price has even taken his position into the driver’s seat. He starts the engine and we drive out of the underground garage and wait to enter the traffic. My phone begins to ring, I look down and see Angela’s name, I answer immediately, “Angie, I’m so happy you called, are you sure that you are okay?” I wait, and I can hear the sound of her breathing.

  “I’m okay, Elliot, I just needed to get away.’’ Is she saying that she wanted to get away from me?

  “You ran away from me. Why, Angie? What did I do wrong?” I had to know why she left me there, I think I can hear her sniffling on the other end of the phone, she is trying to disguise it, but it’s not working very well.

  “I didn’t run from you, Elliot,” she pauses. I am about to jump back in and tell her that I was there, I saw her run away from me, when her voice comes back through again. “Never mind, let’s not talk about this on the phone. I’m at the San Remo. Do you know where that is?” a gigantic smile appears across my face. She told me where she is, I wouldn’t have to knock on every apartment door now.

  “I sure do. Central Park West, I can be there in less than ten minutes.” I wait for her response. Tell me to come to you now, Angie, please.

  “Okay then, I’m on level twenty-five in the North Tower.” Victory, she has invited me to her.

  “I’ll be there soon, baby” I remove the phone from my ear and end the call.

  “Everything okay, sir?” Price asks,

  I plaster a smile on my face. “Everything is perfectly okay now, Price. Let’s go, I’ve got to go get my girl back”.

  Price simply nods at my reply, concentrating on the heavily congested New York traffic.

  I am on my way to the girl I love, and I am going to make sure she knows exactly how much she means to me.

  ~ Chapter Nine ~

  Angela

  Knowing that Elliot will be here shortly, I decide to clean myself up a little. I stand up from the sofa and wander to the other side of the apartment, into the master bedroom, walking past the king-size bed and into the master bathroom.

  I take one look at myself in the mirror and let out a breath. To my relief I see that the tears haven’t done too much damage to my make-up, thank god for waterproof mascara. I open the top right drawer of the vanity, palming through the small supply of cosmetics that I keep here. I find what I am looking for and pull out a concealer compact sweeping it under my eyes. I then grab out a new toothbrush and toothpaste and quickly brush my teeth, rinsing my mouth when I’m finished, I apply a quick coat of vanilla flavored Chapstick and return to the lounge room.

  Bzzzzzz, another text message from Elliot:

  I’m out in the front, on my way up to level twenty-five. See you soon.

  Instead of replying I walk to the front door and open it, knowing that he doesn’t know my code to give him access, and that he won’t be on the way up. I enter the elevator and press the button for the lobby. When the doors open, I see him, standing on the sidewalk, hands clasped together, a worried look across his handsome features. His hair is standing up in all directions, he has clearly been pulling his hands through it. He really must have been worried, stressed even.

  I exit the glass doors and look between John and Elliot. John sees me first. “Miss White, I was just about to phone you. This gentleman here tells me he is a guest of yours?”

  Smiling warmly at John, “It’s okay John. Elliot let me know when he arrived.”

  “Angie” he walks towards me and reaches out with both of his arms to pull me into an embrace. I willingly go into his strong embrace and settle my cheek into his chest, after a minute or so I speak.

  “I had to come down and get you, since you need a security code to get to the apartment. Why don’t you come in and we can go upstairs?” pushing away gently from his grasp.

  I wish John good night before pulling Elliot with me through the lobby and fully into the elevator. I enter the passcode and wait for the elevator doors to close in front of us. I can see Elliot staring at me from the corner of my eye, keeping my eyes set forward I try to ignore the goosebumps beginning to form on my arm. When the doors open in front of us, I turn to face him. “Shall we?” I step out into the foyer waiting for him to follow. Once we are both out of the elevator, I make my way to the entrance and walk backwards into the apartment holding the door open for him to follow.

  He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at me. I wait for him to cross the threshold into the open entrance and onc
e he is inside my home, I close the door behind him. I walk across the open space back into the lounge and take up my position from earlier. He crosses the space with only a few long strides and sits beside me.

  Elliot reaches out for my hand and takes it, holding it in his own, rubbing his thumb along the edge of my fingers. I look over to him and see the pain behind his eyes. I reach out with my free hand and cup his chin, using my thumb to run along his jawline. “I figured you would have gone home,” I say.

  Surprise shows in his facial expressions immediately. “I had no intention of going anywhere until I knew you were safe. You ran away, I had no idea where on earth you would go. What happened? Please tell me what I did wrong!”

  His voice has small traces of panic, almost undetectable except on the last part. I owe him some sort of explanation; I need him to know that it wasn’t his fault. “You did nothing wrong Elliot. You have been a perfect gentleman.” I pause, thinking about what to say next, and in that moment, I decide to just let it out, let it all come out and let the chips fall where they may. “I’m falling for you hard; Elliot and I’m scared. I’m scared you will hurt me. Hurt me just like, Dylan did.”

  A flash of surprise spreads across his beautiful features, his mouth opens slightly. I want to kiss that mouth. No, Angela, not now. Keep your head in the game. He hasn’t told you he feels the same. I know it was wrong to say anything. Time to protect yourself, item one: create distance. I turn away from him, pull my hand from his, stand and walk to the glass wall; distance accomplished.

  “When you say, Dylan, you’re talking about my foreman, Dylan, who you met tonight, aren’t you?” I hear his voice from behind me and I nod.

  “Yes.” My voice is soft but steady. Still no mention of his feelings.

 

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