by Tia Lewis
Absolutely not.
Please. I just want to learn more.
He was silent for a long time. I didn’t even see the little ellipsis to tell me he was typing. Just… nothing.
Please. You don’t get it. I don’t have anyone else to share this with. I only have you. We’ve been chatting for weeks. I want to join and help spread the word about Boxutrin.
There it was. My whole heart and mind laid out plain for him. It was the truth, every word. He was my sole connection to the world I wanted so much to be part of, and all he did was push me away. I didn’t have anybody else to talk to, to interact with. My parents were quickly disappearing into the background of my mind. We had nothing in common. We might as well have been on different planets.
You’re all I have, Preston. Please.
I waited.
Fine. Tomorrow. W New York – Times Square. Room 585. Midnight. Come alone. Don’t bring a digital device.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was in. He wanted to meet me! I closed my eyes, saying a silent prayer of thanks to whoever was out there and typed a quick reply.
Thank you. I appreciate your trust. You won’t regret it. See you then.
Then, I tossed my cell phone on the bed and screamed in sheer joy. I couldn’t believe it. I’d dreamed of that moment but never thought it would actually come true. The very next day, I would meet the man behind the scenes. I would finally, finally come face-to-face with the anonymous person I’d looked up to since I was in middle school, ever since I’d first stumbled on The Alliance. I’d been following him for so long.
Well, maybe not him, specifically. I didn’t think he was all there was to it, but I got the feeling he was the leader—at least, he sat pretty high up on the food chain. The email address was his, after all, and he’d taken it upon himself to train me. That had to mean something.
And I was finally going to meet him.
What would I say? How could I possibly express what he’d meant to me? He was everything. The work I did, I did for him. Not for myself, not for some higher, better vision, but for him. I drove myself the way I did because of him. I wanted him to be happy with me.
I wanted him to like me.
The thought struck me as strange since I’d never admitted to myself before that I wanted him to feel that way about me. I wanted him to like me and find me worthy. His power was attractive, I couldn’t help but to be drawn to it. He could make or break any number of corporations, public figures, whatever he liked with the click of a mouse—but he chose not to. That was a pretty sexy scenario. And I knew him, and I worked with him. And I was about to meet Mr. Incognito.
What would it feel like to stand in front of him, wanting so much to impress him? What would I do once I was finally able to look in his eyes, knowing all that he’d seen and experienced?
It was time for me to finally meet a member of The Alliance.
Chapter 6
I got up earlier than usual that day, even though I wasn’t going to meet Preston until midnight. It didn’t matter. I was going to meet him, and that was what kept me up for most of the night. It felt like the night before Christmas, and I was a little kid again. Wondering what Santa would bring for me.
I joined my parents in the kitchen for breakfast. My mother’s eyes widened in shock. “She awakens! And early enough for us to see her?”
“Ha, ha,” I said, my voice dry as I settled in at the breakfast bar which separated our kitchen and dining room.
I watched as my father prepared green smoothies for the two of them. He was on a health kick, which I guess had to do with the heart patients he saw day in and day out, and he’d encouraged Mom to be part of it with him. She was kind enough to go along, even though I saw her holding her nose when she sipped her chunky vegetable smoothie. She couldn’t fool me.
“So, honey, what do you have planned for today?”
My mother handed me a box of cereal and carton of milk. I couldn’t be bothered with that smoothie stuff, even though it seemed like it was the latest health trend to do.
“Oh, uh…” I was at a loss. And I remembered ruefully why I made it a point to avoid my parents in the morning. Too late by that point. “I’m going to stay home today, I guess. I have a few things I want to get done online.”
“When’s Harvard orientation?” she asked. “Don’t you think you should get your textbooks now? It would be helpful to start studying now, so you won’t fall behind when your workload increases.”
My father jumped in. “That’s a good point. My wife is so smart.” He kissed her on the forehead, then set about getting his things together. “What do you think, Sophie? You might learn something that you won’t cover in class. Wouldn’t that be great?”
I was living a great big lie. I wished my parents would just come out and tell me what they thought was wrong with the way I lived my life—namely, everything. They meant well, but it was all such a joke. A play we performed together.
“Yeah, I guess that would be helpful—but I haven’t registered for classes yet. I’m actually not sure which classes I’m taking this semester. I was hoping to find out more about that at orientation.” I was already half checked out of the conversation.
“Oh, okay.” I knew my parents were exchanging looks behind my back. “Well, that’s something you could work on today.”
“Absolutely. I’ll look into it.”
My mother sighed, running a hand through her beautiful blonde hair. We might have shared the same hair color, but mine never looked quite as shiny and perfect as hers did. Then again, I never exactly tried to get it to look that way.
“I get worried about you always spending time alone in your bedroom,” she said, putting a hand on my shoulder. She smelled good, looked great. The image of professionalism. I wondered what she’d think if she had the vaguest idea what I was doing in my room every day, what I wanted to be part of.
“I know,” I said, patting her hand.
“But it’s not enough for you to do anything about it.” The lecturing tone crept into her voice just then. “I want you to go outside today. I want you to do something that involves fresh air and being more… social. It’s not healthy for you to be locked inside all day long.”
“I get it, mom. I love you. Have a good day.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek and watched my parents leave. They drove together to their workplaces every morning. I could only imagine what the topic of conversation would be.
Sometimes my over-protective parents smothered me even though I was eighteen now. I guess it was to be expected since I’m their only child and they wanted me to follow their high achieving footsteps. However, it was hilarious since they were at the same time totally oblivious about my life and over involved in it. They assumed I couldn’t be getting into too much trouble if I was just sitting at home, alone in my bedroom. For two such intelligent people, they were clueless. There were moments when I wanted to laugh at them, to tell them what I was really doing while they were at work, while they were sleeping. They wouldn’t be able to handle it, of course. And I could kiss my computer goodbye. Still, it might be worth it just to see the look of surprise on their faces. They thought they knew me so well when they knew nothing about me at all.
I puttered around the house all day, deliberately staying away from the computer. The more time I spent there, the slower the day would pass. Instead, I cleaned my bedroom—it needed it, since the most I ever did was sleep, wake up, sit at the computer with my breakfast and lunch, then go back to bed after I worked post-dinner. My clothes were everywhere and needed washing. My mother would be so happy when she saw what I’d done while she was at the office.
She didn’t deserve my irritation, and neither did my father. I couldn’t blame them. I’d gone from being an entirely agreeable daughter, if not a bit of a loner, to somebody they didn’t know anymore. We used to do everything together. Vacations a-plenty, evidenced by the family pictures and souvenirs all over the house. My mother made it a point to place her memor
ies all around her, where she could access them at any time. The evidence was there. I used to be the sort of daughter who would rather spend Saturday night on the couch with her parents, watch a movie or TV show, than partying with friends or even holing up in her bedroom.
They just didn’t know me anymore. I couldn’t blame my parents for that, either.
I’d changed.
After putting my bedroom in order, which took hours, I cleaned up the kitchen and living room. We had a housekeeper two days a week, but I thought it would be a nice gesture. If I couldn’t be the daughter my parents needed me to be, I could at least help out around the house.
After that, I caught up on a lot of TV watching. I’d seen rave reviews on a few Netflix shows, so I put them on and whiled away the afternoon that way. It was a good idea. I wished I had more time to enjoy things like that on the regular, but I wouldn’t have traded my life for anything. How many people could say they were honestly obsessed with their work? How many people were as genuinely thrilled to sit down every day, feeling like they were fulfilling their purpose?
I made it a point to take a shower and hide in my bedroom by the time my parents came home around seven o’clock. While they were eating dinner, I was choosing my outfit with a critical eye. I was meeting Preston for the first time. I didn’t want to show up in a pair of jeans and in one of my old high-school T-shirts. Then again, I didn’t want to make it look like I was trying too hard. I decided against curling my hair for that very reason—well, that, and the fact that I had no idea how to do it. Another thing I had to do once I found the time: figure out how to be more girly. It seemed like a lot of things had passed me by.
I settled on a pair of leggings, a tank top, and a long sweater coat. It was still late July, but I would feel more protected if I wore it. I was planning on walking around Manhattan at midnight, without my cell phone. I needed some sort of protection, even if it was all in my head.
Passing the time until eleven o’clock seemed like an impossibility until it was suddenly on me and I realized it was almost time to meet Preston and the minutes rushed by like they were on wings. Time was funny that way. I figured he wouldn’t object to me reserving an Uber on my cell phone before leaving—no way was I taking the subway at that time of night, all alone. With no phone. I couldn’t get that last part out of my head. I would be totally disconnected. I couldn’t stand the idea. How did people ever navigate life without having a device on them at all times?
At eleven-thirty, I slipped out of my bedroom. My high-tops sneakers didn’t make a sound on the stairs as I scurried down, and I held my breath as I opened, then closed the front door. My parents must have been out cold if they didn’t so much as stir. I only breathed a sigh of relief once I was in the car and on my way into the city.
Good thing he picked a hotel I was familiar with. On the few times we’d really “done up the town” and stayed overnight in Manhattan, my parents had rented a room at the W. It wasn’t cheap, by any means. Was this a message from Preston, that he was well-off and as powerful as I’d imagined? Was it a power play? Did he want to remind me who was in charge?
Either way, I wondered why he wouldn’t let me bring a device with me. I felt downright naked without it. I assumed it had something to do with being tracked or spied on. If my cell phone couldn’t be traced, he couldn’t be traced.
When I reached the hotel, it was ten-till-midnight. I couldn’t shake the feeling that somebody was watching as I exited the car and crossed the sidewalk. I walked into the lobby, trying to make it look like I belonged there, then ducked into the nearest ladies’ room to take a look at myself. I’d gone out on a limb and put on a coat of tinted red lip gloss and a little black mascara. My blonde hair looked shiny in its long braid, over one shoulder and trailing down to my breasts. I wondered if I was showing off too much cleavage in my tank, but men liked that sort of thing.
I was trying to attract him. My skin turned pink as I admitted it to myself. Of course, I wanted him to find me attractive. I wanted him to know I wasn’t just some clueless kid. I was a full-grown woman. Smart, capable. I had what it took to make a good partner for him and join The Alliance.
It was time to go up. I was sure Preston was waiting for me. Get yourself in order, I told myself, staring into my blue eyes in the mirror. Get it together. You can’t let him see how flustered you are.
He was on the fifth floor. Room 585. I got off the elevator and looked up and down the hall, following the signs until I found his room. This is it. I took a shaky break, closing my eyes for a second, then raised my hand to knock.
The peephole went dark. Somebody covered it. He was right there at the door. On the other side of the single door, that stood between us.
The handle turned. My heart nearly stopped. For the splittest of split seconds, I realized I was about to walk into a hotel room with a total stranger, and I had no cell phone on me.
“Hello, Sophie.” His voice was deep, sonorous.
A man in a black business suit stood before me. His hair was dark brown, his eyes a beautiful shade of green. I guessed he was in his mid-30s at the most, and easily over six feet tall. A silver Rolex peeked out from beneath one cuff. I could smell the alluring cologne he wore from where I stood—masculine, musky, enticing.
He flashed a quick smile my way, and I caught a glimpse of his perfect, white teeth. Damn, he was handsome. More than that. He was sexy as hell. I wished I had dressed up a little more, even though my clothes showed off my curves pretty expertly.
The sound of the elevator door closing down the hall snapped me out of the trance he put me in. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, looking at the floor, then back up at him. I reminded myself I was there to learn.
“Hello, Preston.” I extended one hand. “Very nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he said, flashing another smile. “Please, come in.” I wished my knees weren’t shaky when I walked. I had to find a way to control myself around him. It was no time for hormones to get in the way.
I walked into the spacious hotel room. The walls were ivory, all except the far wall with the full window that looked out into the city. From the looks of the room, he’d just gotten there. The bed was fresh, with two clean towels folded at the foot.
“I hope you didn’t have to travel far to get here,” he said, motioning for me to join him at the table and two chairs positioned by the window.
“Not at all. Twenty minutes, tops.” I dared to look at him again as I sat down, taking in the magnificence of him. That was the only word for it. He was overwhelming on all levels. “I’ve been hoping to meet you for a while. I didn’t think I would actually get the chance to, to be honest.”
“And?” he prompted.
“And… what?”
He smirked. “Now that you’ve gotten the chance to meet me, what do you think?” He sat opposite me, adjusting his tall, broad body to fit into the little chair.
“Honestly?”
“Always.”
“You’re not what I pictured.”
“What did you picture exactly?”
I blushed and hated myself for blushing. I knew Preston was only playing games with me, seeing how obedient I would be in answering his questions.
“I thought you would be a lot more…”
My words trailed off.
“A lot more…?”
Damn, he wasn’t going to make it easy for me to get off the hook.
“I didn’t expect you to be so… attractive? I mean, you know. So well put together.”
I wanted to crumple up in a ball and die. But somehow, under his level gaze, I couldn’t avoid telling the truth. Like he pulled the words out of me without my wanting to say them.
He nodded slowly. “Thank you. First impressions are important. I find it necessary to portray an image of success and power at all times. I mean, that’s what I strive to obtain, after all.”
I swallowed hard.
Man, was I out of my le
ague. His confident manner was so intimidating, not to mention his sheer physical presence. I’d never before met a man who was so thoroughly, completely a man. I couldn’t think of another way to describe it.
He looked out the window, down onto the city. Then, his eyes shifted back to me.
“To be honest, you aren’t exactly what I expected.”
“What did you expect? I thought you did your homework on me a long time ago,” I replied.
“Yes, well, you’re an unusual person for somebody your age.”
“How so?”
“Eighteen right?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Well, you don’t have social media profiles, for one. Kids your age are on Instagram, Twitter…”
I grinned. “I deleted those a long time ago.”
“I’ve seen them, of course,” he added.
“I would expect nothing less.”
“Of course, they haven’t been updated in years. So the most I saw of you was a little girl.”
“I’ve grown up,” I said, shrugging.
“Yes, you have. For sure.” There was a tone in his voice that said much more than his words conveyed. I felt warm deep inside. “But that’s not entirely what I mean. I expected someone who looked a little more fragile. You look stronger than I’d imagined. Strength is a valuable quality.”
He smiled, and I could feel my cheeks turning red. I turned toward the window, looking out without seeing anything.
I quickly changed the subject, asking him questions about The Alliance, instead.
“How many people are part of your group?” I asked.
“A few. That’s not something I feel comfortable sharing with you right now—it would be in the best interest of the other members that their identities remain anonymous for now.”
“But you’re not anonymous. You must trust me, right? If you can reveal yourself to me.”
He nodded, then shrugged. “Well, I’m the group’s leader, so I can make any decisions I want to.”
“So you are the leader?” I asked. I knew it.