He Belongs With Me

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He Belongs With Me Page 5

by Sarah Darlington


  I took twenty-three's food out to her, smiling politely, saying nothing about her blood sugar problem because what if she wasn't lying? Then I sauntered toward the front of the restaurant to find Anita, who could talk a person's head off. She'd distract me and possibly help me feel better, even though it was partially her fault for sending me after Dean/Robby in the first place.

  I found Anita standing in her usual spot at the hostess podium, smiling and waiting to greet any incoming guests. I loved how no matter how many years passed, the forty-something-year-old always looked the same. Her hair, sprayed with so much hairspray it could easily ignite, sat in place on her head in the same style she'd probably been sporting since the early 90s. And her boobs—watermelon big—were practically choking her they were so high. Who knows what sort of support contraption she used to keep those babies in place? But they were always up and ready to greet the customers.

  “Hey, Anita.”

  Even with an age difference of around twenty years, we'd always been friendly. “Hey, honey,” she replied, pulling me into a gigantic side-hug. “I've been hopin' you'd come up here and talk more. It's real dead today. So...how you been doin'? That menu comin' back easy enough?” Anita certainly had a twang to her voice, like any local, but I found it cute on her.

  “I'm doing fine,” I replied. “I could recite the menu in my sleep.”

  “You and me both. I think they're gonna have to put it on my grave,” she said, laughing at her own joke. “I'm real excited you’re home and finally twenty-one. Don't tell your daddy, but we're gonna raise some serious hell this summer. Which, come to think of it, I never did ask you yesterday how your school year went? You and Clara gettin' on any better these days?”

  Clara and I both attended college at Virginia Tech. Fortunately, Tech was a big school so she and I were able to easily avoid one another there. Sure, we ran into each other every now and then, but it was going to take a lot more than sheer proximity to help heal our relationship.

  “School's been fine,” I told Anita. “And Clara and I aren't any better.”

  Thinking of Tech made me think of Leo so I slipped my phone from my apron for another quick peek. Still nothing.

  Leo went to Tech too. Sort of. In the beginning he gave the whole college thing a fair try, but these days I doubted he even had enough credits to call himself a sophomore. Leo was too smart for his own good and he wanted to be successful in college. He just couldn't be in two places at once. His classes came second to his family's growing need for him to help run the Maddox Hotel Corporation. Leo's dad had wanted to take over Leo's grandfather's position as CEO so bad that the man was practically foaming at the mouth for Leo Sr. to either die or retire. Leo Sr. had zero intention of ever retiring, but either way, both his grandfather and father wanted Leo to quit dicking around, grow up, and work harder, as they frequently liked to say.

  I seriously doubted Leo would come back to Tech next fall. I also suspected that it might be Leo's last summer in Blue Creek, and the thought made my heart hurt. I never wanted things to change.

  “I still can't get over Clara datin' Andrew,” Anita said, shaking her head. “No respect, that girl. But forget her. I can't bite my tongue a moment longer.” A smile grew on her lips so wide I thought her face might crack. “Darlene Adams—ya know, the new event planner—told me earlier today that she saw you with one real scrumptious date last night. Tall. Dark. Handsome. Real naughty. I'm guessin' that means you found Dean. What’d I tell ya? Gorgeous, huh? Spill, girl. I'm old and ain't been laid since God-knows-when. Tell me everythin' and don't ya dare spare any juicy details.”

  Before I could tell Anita how very non-scrumptious Dean/Robby was, the front doors to the restaurant whooshed open and Dad came marching in. His blonde hair, the color of mine and Clara's, fell into his blue eyes. He brushed the wild strands out of his weathered face and gave me a relieved smile. “There you are, Maggie. I've been looking everywhere.” Even with thinning hair and sun-warped skin, Dad was still a handsome man. Like an aging movie star, his looks seemed to only grow more pronounced with time. And the blush on Anita's cheeks told me older women still noticed this about him.

  He leaned his elbows on the podium, giving me the look, the one he got when whatever he had to say involved Clara. I knew at once that my sister was up to no good again. “Let's go talk in my office. Anita, please cover for Maggie for five minutes. This is important.” When Dad wasn't stressing over me and Clara, the man was probably the most easygoing person around, but I could tell the carefree version of Dad wasn't going to be showing his face today.

  He stalked off through the restaurant, expecting me to follow. I took a short detour to check on table twenty-three and then met him in his office. The small backroom could hardly be called an office—more like a cubbyhole with a messy desk, computer, and a few filing cabinets. Two swivel chairs were smashed into the small space. I sat in one and Dad took the other.

  “Okay,” he started, “I feel like I should give your sister the benefit of the doubt and so I'll ask you first. Did you take one of the golf carts out for a joyride last night?”

  I let out a surprised, unexpected laugh. In a million years, I never would have expected him to ask me that—clearly my sister knew no bounds. When would she stop being so childish and grow up? “It wasn't me. You already know that.”

  “I figured that much. Sorry, but you know I had to ask.”

  “Did she crash the golf cart into a tree or something?”

  “I hope not. The golf cart she took is still missing, but the grass on the fairway near Hole Six looks like crap. Tire treads everywhere. It's evident someone had a damn good time. I don't have time to deal with your sister's bullshit. I need to be practicing for next week's tournament in Miami. Do you have any idea where Clara might be?”

  “I haven't seen her since last night,” I told him and then realize something I’d missed. “Wait, what made you think it was either me or Clara who stole the golf cart?”

  “This.” Dad reached into his khaki pocket and produced a little black-and-white photo. “I printed this from one of my surveillance cameras. The one overlooking the cart path between Six and Seven. It's the culprit and the golf cart in question. What do you think?” He handed over the photo for me to study. Squinting, I studied it for a moment.

  “Oh, it's Clara alright.” Even in black and white, blurry, and shot from a distance, I could pick out my sister anywhere. Except, I think Dad might have missed something. The image of the golf cart and my sister's face were pretty clear, but there was also some kind of blackish blob in the photo. Someone or something sat shotgun next to my sister. “What's that?” I asked, pointing to the spot.

  Dad took the photo for a better look. “It's hard to tell. Maybe your sister had an accomplice. One with dark hair.”

  “Let me see that again.” Taking a second glance at the photo, I realized exactly who sat next to Clara. A horrible sour feeling settled in my stomach. “That's not an accomplice, that's a hostage!”

  I guess it was time for me to start worrying, so I pulled out my phone to try calling Leo again.

  CHAPTER 6

  CLARA

  My blisters had blisters from the cheap, pink stilettos still attached to my feet. My black dress had wrinkles from wearing it as a nightgown last night. And my hair, even after trying my best to make it look semi-presentable, screamed for a double-duty shampoo job.

  I didn't care about my rumpled appearance. And except for the fact that I was trapped only feet away from an incredibly confusing Leo, life couldn't get any more perfect than this. Watch out, New York City, here I come! Looking forward to the land of concrete and dreams, where millions of people didn't know me from Jane, I settled back in my cozy, leather seat on the Maddox family’s private jet, practically tasting the delicious freedom already.

  Leo had barely said two words to me since we left this morning. Not that I was complaining, by any means—I welcomed his silence. But I still wondered what mali
cious ulterior motive he had for letting me come along with him. He typically seized every opportunity he could to throw insults my way. Between my rumpled appearance and the embarrassing ass-gazing fiasco this morning, I had a giant bull's-eye painted on the back of my little black dress. I figured he was only minutes away from saying something nasty.

  Over the past few years, I'd stopped caring or listening when Dad or Maggie brought up the Maddox family's business. I had no idea how little or big of a role Leo played in it all. Part of me always thought he wore his fancy suits just for the hell of it, not for any practical purpose. But since the moment we stepped onto the plane, he and Regina—I now knew that she was his personal secretary—had been talking business nonstop. Who knew Leo took anything so seriously? Witnessing this other side of him was very strange.

  As the plane began to descend toward JFK airport, my excitement level exploded through the roof. The jet had Wi-Fi so I'd already messaged Steph and told her I was on my way. She agreed to meet me at Leo's hotel in an hour—an hour that couldn't come soon enough.

  After we landed, it was VIP service all the way. A car met Leo's plane right on the runway. Men in black suits carried his bags and opened doors for us. A police escort led us down the runway and out of the airport. You'd think Leo was a celebrity by the way people treated him. As the daughter of a golf pro, I was kind of used to getting the special treatment here and there, but this was real baller status.

  Heading deep into The Big Apple, I stared out my window. While Leo and Regina continued to talk business, I was caught up watching as the soaring buildings, yellow taxis, and array of people passed by in a blur. I'd been to NYC several times, but this was my first visit as an adult. And most importantly, my first visit alone.

  “What are you thinking?” Leo asked me. I'd been so focused on my own thoughts, I hadn't noticed that his conversation with Regina had ceased and his focus was now directed toward me.

  “That I'm glad I came,” I said, surprised at my own honesty.

  “Good.”

  Those were the only words we exchanged before arriving at the intimidating Maddox Hotel. I instantly spotted Steph waiting outside the grand double doors, wearing a flowery sundress that showed off her long legs. Before one of Leo's black-suited men even had the chance to open my door, I jumped out of the car and caught my friend in a giant hug. It had only been two weeks since classes ended, but I realized then how much I'd missed her. At school, especially around Steph, I got to be a different person—myself.

  The inside of the hotel, lined in gold with polished marble floors and sparkling chandeliers, took rich and elegant to a whole new level. I'd stayed in this hotel before on a couple of my family's visits to New York, but the renovations had outdone even my wildest expectations of what luxury looked like.

  Leo had already disappeared so Steph and I followed Regina inside. The front desk attendant gave her a key to the executive suite Leo had promised me, and then Regina extended her kindness by offering to personally show us the room.

  “I never knew Miss Maggie had a twin,” she said matter-of-factly as we walked, heels clicking across the empty front lobby. The only other people around were a few hotel employees, and I recalled Leo mentioning something about the official reopening date being Sunday. I guess that meant the general public wasn't staying in the hotel until tomorrow.

  “Yeah, twins,” I said. Then, keeping with her idle chit-chat—even though I despised idle chit-chat—I asked the woman, “How long have you worked for Leo?

  “Almost two years now.”

  Once we stepped into one of the glass elevators, I slipped off my pink shoes. My poor feet could no longer take the pain and the cold floor felt glorious against my blisters. Regina looked down at my bare feet and blanched. She'd been pretty friendly up until now, so her repulsed reaction surprised me. The doors slid shut and we were whisked soundlessly upward.

  “I find it odd that Leo's never mentioned your existence,” Regina commented, dropping all formalities now that we were behind closed doors. Her face soured and I got the impression that I was about to see the real Regina. “Working so closely over the past two years, I feel like I know Leo better than anyone and it's just strange that we've never met. Do you think he purposely kept you a secret, or are you just so irrelevant to him that he didn't think it worthwhile to mention you?”

  Ouch. Were the words 'please insult me' stamped somewhere on my forehead? Exchanging a quick look with Steph, I tried to do what I do best and ignore the woman's vicious jab—but I couldn't manage it. “I guess you don't know him as well as you think. Or maybe you're the one who’s irrelevant, and he didn't feel the need to discuss his personal life with you.” I grabbed the key card, the one she was clutching tightly in her grubby little manicured fingers. “You don't have to show us the way, I've been here before. I think I can manage.”

  The timing couldn’t have been better because at that very moment, the elevators doors opened onto the penthouse floor. With Steph following close after me, I left Regina and headed down the long, open hallway. Once we were in the safety of my very large suite, I released my anger, “What a grade-A bitch!”

  Steph laughed, saying, “Okay. Um, hi. Good to see you too.”

  I smiled at my friend. “Sorry, it's been an interesting morning.”

  “I can tell,” Steph said, raising one eyebrow. She looked like she had tons more to say but right then caught a glimpse of the view of Central Park and the surrounding skyscrapers outside our floor-to-ceiling windows and ran over to check it out. “Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness!”

  Trying to forget Regina's nastiness, I followed her and we both took a minute to appreciate the spectacular, panoramic view. I'd been stretching the truth when I told Regina I'd been here before. Inside the hotel—yes. In this room on the top floor—no.

  After peeling her face off the glass, Steph flopped onto the big, cushy bed. “Okay. Want to start by telling me what you're doing here with Leo Maddox? Last time I checked, you hated the guy.”

  I unglued my eyes from the window and looked over at her. “I don't hate hate him. Hate is a strong word. He irritates the shit out of me, but he's kind of like family so...I don't know. Want the truth?”

  “Hit me with it.”

  “I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing here.” I went and plopped down beside her on the bed, letting out a dramatic sigh. Then I proceeded to fill her in on all the juicy details. Leo's hateful but true words at the gala. Seeing my ex-stepbrother again. Running Leo over with the golf cart. Sleeping in his Great-Grandma Bunny's bed. I even included the part where I stood like a lunatic drooling over Leo's perfect ass this morning.

  “You like Leo!” she concluded.

  “Were you even listening? I despise Leo.”

  “Yeah, but you also admitted to liking how he looks naked and you're here now. Plus, you just told me you didn't hate hate him, whatever that means. So, I'm pretty sure a small part of you might like him.”

  “That's ridiculous. I came to New York because I wanted to see you.”

  “Alrighty then,” she said, letting it go. That's one thing I loved about her. Steph knew when not to push me. “I have to be at work tonight by six. I'm all yours until then. I got a job serving drinks on the weekends at this place in Brooklyn called the Alligator Lounge. If you're up for it later, then you could come with me to work tonight and hang out. The place is pretty cool; I know you'll like it. And then I'm free tomorrow.”

  “I wish you didn't have to work at all.” I gave her my best pouty face. “But sure, I'll go with you to work later.”

  “What are we going to do until then?”

  “The better question is...what are we not going to do?”

  After taking a quick shower, Steph and I took a taxi over to Greenwich Village. Still wearing yesterday's black dress, I desperately needed some retail therapy. I bought three outfits, one for each day that we’ll be in New York. I also gave the pink stilettos a new home in a trashcan before opti
ng for a pair of comfy ballet flats. Leaving as fast as we did, I hadn't had time to grab a toothbrush or anything else so basic necessities were a must too.

  Typically, I never spent money. While at school, I worked at an off-campus restaurant called Macado's. Between there and working for Dad every summer since age sixteen, I had a decent chunk of money in a special bank account. I saved constantly because I was dead serious about my Arizona escape plan. After I finished college, I figured I'd need enough money to buy a car, rent an apartment, and get myself on my feet once I got away. Dad and Maggie knew nothing of my personal bank account or my plan to leave them. But I wanted my freedom—I wanted it more than anything.

  Steph didn't understand my obsession about leaving. When I first told her, she thought maybe I had serious family problems. But I'd had a good childhood and deep down I knew Dad and Maggie loved me. It's just...I didn't want their life. I hated the country club, the snooty club members, the endless parties, and even the smell of freshly cut grass. My plan wasn't to run away—just to get away. I saw the difference and I hoped my family would too when I finally got up the courage to leave them.

  After Steph and I finished shopping, buyer's remorse started to settle in my stomach. I’d spent a lot more money than I ever did, but I forced the guilty feeling aside. Splurging every now and then was okay, I told myself. Nothing like the money Maggie could drop on one dress.

  As we left Greenwich Village, Steph and I passed a trendy hair salon that was calling my name. Maggie hadn't been too far off when she said the color in my hair looked like Kool-Aid. The pink was only chalk and had disappeared with my shower. So while Steph grabbed us some takeout for lunch, I decided to go bold and spend a little more of my savings. I chose lavender and let the stylist go nuts. I thought it looked doggone good on me and was worth every penny. If Dad shit funny for week because of it, then that was just an added bonus. When Steph returned and saw my new hair, she squealed with delight, complimenting me on my color choice.

 

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