When he next glanced at the time it was 7:12. He decided to give her a call and got her voicemail, twice. Her phone can't be off, he thought. Maybe she's just in a dead zone.
Babe, are you on your way? — M. Frost —
Ten minutes passed with no response. Concerned, Michael tried calling again. "Hey, Cilla, where are you?" he said at the beep. "At least let me know you're on the way...haven't heard from you all day so I'm getting a little worried."
He sent another text and sat there waiting somewhat patiently until 7:40 when the movie was supposed to start. Then he thought, Okay, something has to be wrong.
Deciding to drive over to Emerald Leas right away, he left the table and went to collect his car.
When Michael pulled up to the guardhouse ten minutes later, he sensed immediately from the look they exchanged that he wasn't going to be let in.
Eager to find out what was going on, he let down his window. "Hey, gentlemen. Michael Frost here to see Priscilla."
The guard with the goatee gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, we can't let you in."
"Why?"
"We've been instructed not to."
"Not to let me in, specifically? Michael Frost?"
"Yes, sir."
He was completely floored. "When?"
"Excuse me?"
"When were you told not to let me in?" He was now thoroughly confused.
"Sir, we can't open the gate. I have to ask you to drive forward and make the U-turn."
What the hell's going on?
He hastily drove up and made the damn turn, then pulled off to the side of the road and tried Priscilla's phone again. "Priscilla, what's going on?" he said on her voicemail. "Why have the guards been told not to open the gate for me?"
He clicked off and stayed put, waiting for an answer. But after two more messages and twice as many hours, it became very obvious there would be no response—but Michael didn't leave. He sat there well into the night, unable to drive away.
•~•
It was after midnight before he finally started the car and drove back to Stuart, in a semi-fog. He'd seen a couple of cars come and go, but he had no idea whom they were. Cilla never used the main entrance.
Something had gone very wrong, and Michael had come to the conclusion that there was only one answer: Amber. She's the one reason Priscilla would be shutting him out so abruptly. And so severely.
But what exactly had she found out? Had Amber come here to see her? He didn't dare call Amber to ask anything, so that meant he had to find a way to reach Priscilla. He had to get her to talk to him so he could find out exactly what had happened and address it.
Back at the Renaissance, Michael lay awake that entire night, unable to stop thinking about Priscilla and the magical weekend they had just shared.
As he lay there in the comfort and safety of his hotel room, he had never felt more uncomfortable—or more afraid of losing someone—in his entire life.
•~•
The next morning, Michael was back at Emerald Leas before breakfast. He had resisted the urge to continue calling or texting, but nothing would stop him from showing up.
This time he saw only one of the guards, the heavyset one. "Sorry, Mikey," he said with a smirk.
"Can you at least phone up to the house and tell her I'm out here?"
Running a hand across his nose, heavyset shook his head. "It's a no-go, man. You need to leave."
Michael felt his chest concave. He sat there in disbelief.
So this is it? This is how it ends?
No. It couldn't be. He wouldn't let it be. She had to give him a chance to explain. Didn't she at least want to yell at him?
He made the U-turn and parked alongside the road in the same place he'd sat the night before. She had given him a tour of the house and he'd seen the security room. He wasn't sure if that particular spot was on camera, but he knew the guards would have to report that he was sitting out there, and for how long. So he waited.
•~•
Michael went back every morning that week—with the same results. He sat outside Emerald Leas for hours each day, determined not to give up. The rest of his life was on hold and he didn't care.
On Friday morning, as he drove up to the guard booth, goatee stepped out shaking his baldhead before the Stingray even came to a full stop. "Listen," he said, leaning into Michael's window. "Let me give you some free advice, because you have the right idea, but it's not costing you nothing."
"What do you mean?"
"You know how women are. Keep up the persistence, but you gotta send her cards and flowers. You gotta go talk to her friends. Just sitting out here every day, if you're not doing all that...it won't work when she's overseas."
"She's leaving?" Michael asked quickly. "Where to?"
Goatee began shaking his head as he straightened up. Michael saw that his badge read: "Will."
"Sorry, I've talked to you too much already. Not trying to lose my job. I can't tell you anything else."
But Will's resolve broke when he saw Michael turn away, looking straight ahead, only to look back with actual tears in his eyes.
"Look, man," said Will. "The most I can promise is I'll give you a ring when she gets back in town, all right?"
"Will. Please," he said. "Please just tell me where Miss Bauer is going...and when she's leaving. I swear—I'll never say how I found out. You won't lose your job."
Will stared at him for a moment, then took a deep breath and shook his head. "She's going to France, all right? But I won't tell you when. Just know that she should be gone within a week."
To France? Michael's heart sank. Fuck.
She had told him about her mysterious aunt and the apprenticeship, but she hadn't been ready to leave home so soon after her grandmother's death. She still needed to feel close to her.
And now it looks like it's all your fault she's decided to take off for Europe before she was ready, he berated himself. Jesus.
If Michael hadn't already been sitting, he was sure he would've keeled over. Picking up his phone, he dialed her number. This time it rang out before going to voicemail. "Cilla. Please don't do this. Give me a chance to explain before you just cut me off like this. You don't know what you're doing here. I can't eat and I can't sleep. We need to talk. Please don't do this." He paused before whispering, "I'm in love with you."
He ended the call and gave Will his number. "Thanks, man," he said, before turning the car around and resuming his spot outside the gate.
He had been sitting there with his face turned toward the sunlight for about fifteen minutes when suddenly his phone started ringing, startling him.
Yes! he rejoiced.
It was her.
He nearly dropped the phone in his haste to answer. "Hello?" The desperation in his voice blended with the ocean waves he heard crashing loudly in the background. "Cilla?"
"Don't you Cilla me," she said, her voice harder than he was used to hearing it.
"Please tell me what happened. Give me a—"
"Oh, I think I've given you quite enough, Michael Frost," her voice broke on his name. "How about you give me some truth? I'll know it when I hear it."
"Anything. Ask me anything. I swear I won't lie to you."
Her questions ran together. "Did you honestly think I'd never find out you already have a girlfriend? All this talk about changing your phone number? Buying a house? This was just a game for you, right? A conquest? Are your mom and sister both alive and well down in Delray? Well, you can go straight to hell, Michael! Damn you for playing games with my life—I'm not some goddamn plaything! Screw you for making a fool of me, and damn you for taking advantage. This wasn't just bad timing—this was just plain bad!"
"Priscilla, Amber and I aren't together anymore," he said quickly, the words pouring out of him, "I have no idea what you've been told, but I moved out of our apartment and I've been staying at The Renaissance in Stuart. I'm buying a house there to be closer to you. Please, please, sweetheart,
don't do this. I left her to be with you. I only want to be with you. And I would never lie about what happened to my family."
At first she said nothing. He knew she was there only because he could still hear the sea; so close, he knew she must be out on the pier.
With her going away to France at the forefront of his mind, Michael wanted to prompt her, but he was afraid to say another word. Scared that even one misplaced breath could push her even further away.
"I don't know how to believe anything you're saying right now," she said finally. "So this has to be over. Please stop coming here. Please just forget we ever met."
"No, Priscilla—I can't. I can't do that. I love you, don't you understand? I'm not lying to you now. I didn't think you needed to know about Amber and me once I left her. Please know that I only want to make you the happiest person on Earth." His voice cracked. "It's killing me to know that I've caused you more pain. It's killing me. Please let me make it up to you. Please, give this a chance."
"When you went to Arizona the other day," she said, "was she with you?"
"Yes."
"And when you told me you thought I was right, that we should wait to start dating...?"
Michael took a deep breath. "Before I could tell Amber about us, she found out. She saw a text you'd sent me. I tried to break up with her that same morning, but she begged me not to leave. I was conflicted. I didn't know what else to do."
"And if I'd never called you?"
"I don't know," he replied. "All I know is I never stopped thinking about you. I was over the moon when you called, nothing could've kept me away and that's when I knew I had to break up with Amber once and for all—and that's what I did, Priscilla. You have to believe me. If she's contacted you and said she and I are still together, it's a lie and I can prove it." He paused, glancing toward the guardhouse. "Priscilla, won't you just let me come in now. Please? So we can talk this out? I promise, no more lies. I will never, ever lie to you again. I know it looks bad right now, but baby you can trust me."
"But this just proves that I don't know you, Michael. I haven't been getting to know the real you at all. I've spent the last few days going over and over our time together, and all that seems to matter right now is that the whole time—you were going home to your girlfriend!"
"Priscilla, I'm so sorry. I understand you can't trust me right now, but I'm still begging you to give me a chance to prove that you can. I'll do my best to explain everything—how I was feeling, and what was going on in my head—but please don't think I was ever playing a game here. Our relationship could never be a game to me."
"Michael, you're asking me to take a huge risk," she said. "And I just don't think I can do it right now. I feel like such a fool. You should've told me the truth from the beginning. You should've told me you had a girlfriend the first time we came out here on the pier. You shouldn't have lied. Don't you know you can't start building a relationship on a lie like that?"
Michael felt his pulse hammering in his neck. She's slipping away. "I swear to God I won't keep anything from you ever again," he said in earnest. "Please just tell me what to do, Cilla. What can I do to prove that I'm very much in love with you and don't want to be with anyone else? My life can be an open book from now on if that's what it takes, but just don't leave me like this. I've fallen completely in love with you, Priscilla. And I can't imagine my future without you in it now." He groaned, feeling tortured. "You're in my blood—I won't lose you."
She went silent again for a while. The phone grew hot at Michael's ear but he barely noticed.
"I'm standing out here," she said finally, "looking at photos of you with her. A happy, smiling couple. They're dated the weekend you were in Arizona."
Michael's eyes closed. Now there was no doubt: It was Amber who'd gotten to her.
"Cilla, listen to me. We can take it very, very slowly—I won't rush you. I'll make this up to you—just don't cut me off like this. I miss you so much. I need to hold you. This entire week has been pure hell."
"Yeah," she said quietly, her voice trembling with emotion. "Tell me about it."
He noticed her tone had lost its edge, and he felt a glimmer of hope that she would give him the chance he was begging for. "So will you let me come in?" he asked softly. "Please? Priscilla, I'm not going away. I'm not leaving until we fix this."
"I'm sorry," she replied, "but we're done. Michael, this is all over."
"Cill—"
But the sea went silent. And she was gone.
•~•
He called her back immediately but she had turned the phone off again. Michael sat there feeling completely gutted.
He couldn't lose her. No. He wouldn't. What they had been building together was special, and he knew he was going to have to fight for it.
In a state of emotional agony, also unlike anything he'd ever felt before, Michael made quick work of Googling the Favorite Things hotel in France.
Hôtel Blue Satin. In the heart of Paris, near Arc de Triomphe.
The site was in French, and was extensively interactive, complete with suave music and charming sound effects...but Michael was only interested in one thing.
46 Rue de Chaillogne, 75110, Paris, France.
Getting out of the car, he walked across to the guard booth. Will was kicked back in his seat, flipping through a Maxim magazine. He looked up as Michael approached.
"Hey, so you're absolutely sure she's going to France, right?"
Will nodded. "But I can't tell you when, man, so don't ask me. Like I said, the best I can do is let you know when she comes back; but she didn't say how long she'll be gone, so it may be a while."
Nodding, Michael put out his hand. "Thanks again, Will. You've been a big help."
The guard shook his hand and bowed with a smile. "No problem. Now, go on, get outta here."
Oh, I'm getting out of here all right, Michael thought, as he walked back to his Corvette, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. Immediately.
Once he was inside the car, he picked up his phone. It's not over, he texted. I'm in love with you. You're in love with me. And it's not over.
• CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE •
Doug had wasted no time in booking her flight when she told him she had decided to come over to Paris after all. And maybe once she was over there, she could figure out how to get her face up off the ground.
The smiling images of Michael and that girl were tattooed on Priscilla's brain, fueling her resolve to get away. It was the only way she could think of to mend her now utterly broken heart.
Well, you shouldn't be surprised, said the voice in her head. It's what you get for trying to make one night stand a lot longer than it should.
But how humiliating was this? She'd let him into her life at the worst possible moment. And she had trusted him.
I'll never forgive myself for being such a fool, she thought, as she coaxed Chewy into the carrier. He still wasn't thrilled about leaving the bedroom, but his resistance had lessened, thank goodness.
Paula had volunteered to drive her to the airport and Priscilla was grateful for the support, but she stayed mum about Michael. I'm lucky to have such a good friend, she thought. Paula knew something had gone wrong but she wouldn't press her; she'd wait until Priscilla was ready to talk about it.
Priscilla got her passport out and dropped it into her purse, then checked to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything important. She had only packed her favorites, the things she really didn't want to be without. Whatever else she needed while she was abroad, she'd just buy new.
Wait, the books!
She hurried into her grandmother's room and pulled the three books Gran had been planning to read next from her nightstand. A Jeffrey Archer, a Louis L'Amour and a Ken Follett. She remembered she was bringing her Kindle along, but then she thought, No e-reader will do for these babies.
Back in her bedroom, she turned her phone back on and read Michael's last message.
It's not over. I'm in love with
you. You're in love with me. And it's not over. — M. Frost —
There was also a text from her mother about calling when she got a chance. Deleting them both, Priscilla wondered if France was far away enough...
When Paula arrived, she wheeled her two Burberry cases out to the car then went back inside to get her purse, and of course, to get Chewy before saying goodbye to the house and locking up.
Raindrops on Roses: Book One of the Favorite Things Trilogy Page 13