Prophecy Accepted: Prime Prophecy Book 2 (Prime Prophecy Series)
Page 9
I turn back to the front, where the crowd chuckles at some witty marketing pun Thomas just made. I suppose Noah’s right. Alexis never insisted I get rid of Caesar. Why would she do that?
Sandalwood tingles across my senses again as Noah’s lips brush my hair. “Because she cares.”
I stiffen, because Noah just responded to my unspoken question with an answer I hadn’t considered.
“The runner-up for the National Marketing Excellence Awards is Everett Luxury Eco-Lodge, for its sustainable but innovative campaign. Congratulations, Charles Everett.”
A round of applause follows Charles, immaculate in a dark pinstripe suit and perfectly combed black hair as he walks up to the podium. The screen behind Thomas lights up with a lush rainforest shrouded in mist then zooms into log cabins nestled in the ethereal light. An airbrushed, happy couple sits on a flawless timber deck. Colorful birds and cute furry animals eat from their manicured hands. Alexis claps along with the crowd, a small smile curling those red lips.
Charles takes the frosted glass trophy and steps up to the microphone. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.” Cultured tones instantly show Charles is English. As does the reserved, classy acceptance speech.
As Charles returns to his table, Thomas grabs the mama trophy and turns back to the crowd. My mother has gone very still beside me. “And for the winner. This campaign exemplified excellence in the marketing industry. It grabbed your attention with its quality, but more importantly, it never let go once it grabbed your heart. Who didn’t want to go to Clear Creek Inn after you saw this?”
A round of applause erupts as Alexis rises to her feet, a huge, genuine smile lighting her face. I clap, too, feeling confusingly pleased and strangely proud. The screen lights up again as my mother approaches the podium, a panoramic shot of a snow-covered vista brightening the screen in dazzling white.
The picture fades, changes, and my hands sink down, silent and numb. Because a dark-haired girl, looking out at the rugged white mountains, a gentle smile gracing her face, is dominating the screen. A mosaic of scenes scroll before my unblinking eyes. Her hiking, flushed, and smiling. Alone in a sea of white, tilted eyes closed to the sun. Standing beneath a white frosted pine, hair a little wild in the breeze, cheek glowing with cold. The applause continues, some people facing me rather than my mother as they smile and clap.
“Holy crap.” Noah’s words echo what is screaming through my mind.
I remember my mother asking me to take a photographer for a hike, something about photos for a marketing campaign. I hadn’t even blinked when he’d asked to borrow my beanie, my scarf, didn’t even question when he even asked for my gloves. What photographer uses gloves? I never saw him take a photo of me, which is why most of the shots are from the side or behind.
And now the connection that Alexis never acknowledged, let alone valued, is immortalized in undeniable full-color HD. How many people have seen this? Hundreds? Thousands?
I don’t hear Alexis’s acceptance speech. All I register is the buzzing in my ears and the bile in my mouth.
I know I’m angry at my mother. But I’m mostly angry at myself.
Because I don’t know how I can feel betrayed by Alexis after all these years.
But I do.
11
Noah
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Eden angry before. But the feeling, stretching all hot and tight in my gut, isn’t mine. I’m fairly certain it belongs to the pale girl next to me, who has taken on a very statue-like stillness.
Eden takes a very measured, very controlled breath.
Yep, definitely hers.
The ad that captured Eden’s beauty and her link to nature so artfully has finished. It was a flippin’ darn good ad. There’s something primal and fundamental in connecting to our roots, and Eden on that screen epitomized that feeling. I’m surprised I didn’t see a few hands pick up cell phones and book right there and then. If I didn’t already have one foot in that wild, wild world, I’d have booked in myself.
But it’s the ultimate betrayal. To use Eden like that, to exploit her for profit and publicity, then blatantly project it larger than life right before her, is not what this reclusive girl would ever want.
Alexis would have known that. And she did it anyway.
The tight anger beside me is justified. I touch her back, and tilted eyes, dark and turbulent, turn to me. ‘How could she?’ is screaming from those green depths.
I wrap my arm around her waist, trying to absorb some of the pain. “She shouldn’t have done that.”
Eden looks back to her mother, and she’s so still. So angry. “I don’t know why I’m so surprised.”
And here I was trying to tell her she cared.
Alexis returns, gliding through congratulatory kisses and handshakes, all smiles and grace. Eden’s jaw is tense, her back excessively straight. She doesn’t turn to congratulate her mother as Alexis slides back into her seat. Eden doesn’t even move.
With the awards completed, the desserts start descending on the tables. Big square plates hold little creations that could be mistaken for one of Tara’s artworks. I’m deciding whether I should speak up, whether the angry protectiveness I would like to unleash on this excuse-for-a-mother would be more about me than Eden, when a tall dude in a dark suit approaches our table. It’s Charles, the runner-up with his environmentally sound, morally conceptualized campaign.
One arm behind his back, Charles practically bows. “Congratulations, Alexis.”
Alexis flicks her shiny hair. “Thank you, Mr. Everett.”
Charles looks from Alexis to Eden. “It was a very effective campaign. I never stood a chance.” Fair point—Eden has the beauty, whilst Alexis has the non-existent ethics. “I’ve heard about the new proposal.”
Alexis waves a bejeweled hand in dismissal. “I don’t know if I’m committing to it at this stage.”
Charles’s lips angle up just a notch. “We should collaborate—our skills are quite complementary.” With that English accent, the offer sounds nothing but proper, but it has Alexis shifting a little nonetheless.
“This is not an industry that collaborates, Mr. Everett.”
Translation—I’m not a woman that collaborates, Mr. Everett.
“Exactly, Alexis.” And this time he does bend at the waist. “They’ll never see us coming.”
And with a very British incline of his head, Charles spins on the heel of his shiny black shoes and melds back into the crowd. What is most noticeable, proven by the fact that even I see it, is Alexis’s response. Alexis doesn’t flick her hair, jut out her chin, and take a little sip of wine. Instead, she watches that tailored pinstriped back disappear then glances at the people around the table as she straightens her shoulders, fixes her perfect hair. Only then does she jut out her chin then take a sip of wine, and a hefty sip at that.
Eden never sees the exchange. I don’t think the shaft of anger spearing down her spine allows her to move. I use the hand she’s holding so tight and hard to tell her I’m here if she needs me.
Alexis is back to beaming as the congratulations flow around the table. Just as many are aimed at Eden. But Eden doesn’t pick up a fork, doesn’t look up.
Alexis notices, as do our dinner companions. She leans to the side, speaking through a great big smile. “Don’t make this bigger than it is…darling.”
Really? We’re minimizing our actions?
Eden doesn’t look at Alexis, doesn’t acknowledge her statement.
Alexis places her fork on her overgrown plate. “You never would have agreed.”
Now she’s trying the how-else-was-I-supposed-to-do-it defense? I don’t know if I should shake my head or shake hers.
Eden’s only movement is a long, slow blink.
“I thought you’d be happy, five minutes of fame and all that.” This one Alexis says through gritted teeth, eyes looking from left to right.
I’m guessing ‘sorry’ passes Alexis’s lips as often as Eden’s name.
And in desperation and frustration, Alexis goes on the attack. It makes me angry. It makes me sick.
“No, we won’t, Alexis.” Eden bites off each word as she rises. I’m right there with her. “It will never be on your terms. Ever again.”
And with that, we leave. We leave slowly and stiffly. With hands held, a beautiful, silent, straight-backed girl and a guy that is doing all the hurting for her.
Eden walks out and takes with her the façade of their happy family, leaving behind the knowledge that a mother chose her career over her daughter. Leaving Alexis’s actions as an indisputable exhibition for her valued associates.
I take note of what Alexis created by ignoring Eden’s right to choose, by putting her in the limelight. And I feel how the dark betrayal and anger is briefly lost in a burst of satisfaction Eden creates by making her own decisions.
I realize, with a sinking heart and diminishing hope, that Alexis is doing what, for a brief moment, I considered.
I promise to myself that’s something I will never do to the girl I love.
12
Eden
“You sure you’ll be okay?”
Standing in our driveway, the limo’s tail lights fading to black, Noah’s concerned eyes scan mine.
“Definitely. She won’t be back for hours.”
Noah steps in closer, his hand cupping my face. He’s probably checking for confirmation, but I lean in, happy for the warmth. Little black numbers aren’t so good at trapping body heat. I slip my arms up his shoulders, sliding in and slotting myself against him.
“You really sure? I don’t mind staying.”
“Really, really. We’ve got school tomorrow.” I try for a smile. “Plus, you’re kinda angry.”
As we’d driven off, my anger had cooled as the shock and surprise had worn off. It was the last lesson I’d learn from Alexis, one that’s left me wiser and better prepared. I will never make myself vulnerable again when it comes to my mother.
Ironically, as my anger had calmed, Noah’s had grown. The whole trip home I’d felt it bubble and heat. His statements like ‘who does that?’ or ‘she needs to know that—’ had continued to puncture the silence. I’d leaned in and kissed those kissable lips to stop the final thought before it spawned an intention to act.
Noah frowns. “What she did wasn’t okay.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“What are you going to do?”
I rest my forehead on his shoulder, suddenly tired. “Go to bed. Get some sleep. Pretend I’m an orphan.”
Noah’s arms slip around me, and I revel in the sensation of being cherished. I feel him take a breath, hold it, and I wonder if he’s going to say something. But it puffs back out, ruffling my hair. “Okay.”
With a sweet kiss and a tender brush of my cheek, he’s gone. Inside, Caesar greets me, and sensing my somber mood, attaches himself to my side. It makes changing into my sweats a little tricky, but I’m glad for the company.
I’m brushing my teeth when I hear a car. Inexplicably happy that Noah decided to come back even though I told him I wanted to be alone, I skip out to the lounge room.
But it’s not Noah that stands in the entry, hard and still, grey eyes flaring when I enter the room.
“Don’t you ever do anything like that. Ever. Again.”
I look at Alexis, composure lost, possibly left behind at the hotel. If she’s ever been upset with me before, there’s always been the icy rule of control. But it seems tonight is different.
My fists clench, and I feel Caesar lean his warm weight into my leg. This is where I would walk out, not quite backing down, but never facing my mother’s aloof disapproval.
It looks like tonight is going to be different. “My thoughts exactly.”
Her steel grey eyes widen as her breath sucks in. “Your reaction, the way you walked out, was humiliating. At one of the most significant nights of my career.”
“Let me tell you about some of my important nights, Alexis. The night I was five and was scared to be alone in my room. The night I was eight and asked you to braid my hair for school. The night I was twelve and asked if I’d ever meet my father.” With each statement, I take a step forward. I don’t remember when I’ve been close enough to my mother to smell her perfume. That spicy, musky scent whips away the tiredness, sparks the desire to finally tell her. “And you walked out on every one of them.”
Anger flares across Alexis’s face, her cheeks flush as her eyes narrow. “I was trying to teach you to be smart. To depend on yourself.”
I think of my surprise at Alexis using me in her marketing campaign. I’d been defenseless. “Well, it didn’t work.”
“I know. It was wasted.” Alexis steps forward herself, and we’re only feet apart. Possibly the closest we’ve stood in a very long time. “Look at how you cling to him, to their family.”
And then I realize I was never defenseless. Noah was with me. And as weird as it is in this moment, my heart smiles. “He’s taught me more than you ever have.”
Alexis’s face transforms again, and a war of emotions seem to battle for domination. If I’d spent more time with my mother, I may have been able to decipher them. But I haven’t, so instead, I watch the clouds storm and clash in her grey eyes.
Then she straightens and steps back. “All he will teach you is pain.”
I stand and watch, anger disappearing but unsure what to replace it with, as for the first time in my almost eighteen years, Alexis leaves first. She spins on her spiked heel and jabs her stilettos into the timber floor as she stalks to her room.
In the new silence, I do a scan. The fight finished, my anger is gone, and for some reason, I don’t mourn its loss. I’ve cut myself free. It’s not a happy sense of freedom, nor is there any sense of victory. But I’ve cut loose a huge chunk of the anger and resentment. My mother’s actions, her reactions, finally slammed the door I hadn’t realized I’d kept open.
I lean down to my silent companion, Caesar telling me that on so many levels, I’ve never been alone. As I head to my room, I realize now I’m looking for another door to open.
Glancing up from the numbers I’m struggling to focus on, I see an opportunity to do what’s really on my mind. Mr. Rosenberg scrawls furiously on the board like he could do this all day. Maybe we should study tonight?
My phone vibrates almost instantly. I do like studying…
I smile, the movement catching Tara’s eye in the seat beside me. She glances at my cell phone held beneath the desk, shakes her head like she’s an adult, and then gives up on the grownup persona as she tries to peer a little closer.
I tilt the phone, cutting off her line of sight. Should we invite Tara and Mitch?
No
I almost giggle and quickly glance up at Mr. Rosenberg, but he’s helping someone else with their differential equations.
When the minutes draw out a little longer, I hope Noah hasn’t been caught texting in class. My phone vibrates just as I consider biting my lip. At yours?
I smile, knowing Noah’s probably thinking of the endless supply of gourmet pizzas available at my place. My phone vibrates before I get a chance to respond, but my screen lights up with a different name. We can’t come anyway
I glance in surprise at Tara, and she gives me a cheeky grin. “Multiple younger siblings remember? I’m pretty sure I can see around corners.”
I flush, feeling like I’ve been caught out. “You’re welcome to join us.”
Tara rolls her eyes. “You’re a good friend, Edes. I doubt I would have invited you to a study sesh with Mitch back in the beginning.”
Now I’m all-out blushing. “I was going to work on my English assignment.”
Tara’s eyes practically do a revolution of her head this time round. “Sure you were—it’s not like you’ve already been accepted into Wyomi
ng State. It’s all cool. We’ve got to go out, do some Alpha schmoozing with the pack.”
My smile loses some of its happy power. Surely Noah knows that Tara and Mitch won’t be home. And didn’t he say he wanted to talk last night? Specifically under Grandfather Douglas.
“It’s a good idea though, doing it at yours. Don’t you need a bodyguard if Alexis is there?”
I stare at my phone, wondering if Tara’s right and that’s why Noah is wanting to go to my place. “I haven’t seen her since last night.”
I told Noah earlier that I doubt we’ll be talking anytime soon. But what other reason could there be?
“I’d say it’s the pizza rather than Beth’s vegetarian creations then.”
I tell myself to get my insecurities under control. Noah’s protective streak could slice the mountain range beyond our window in half. With a quick glance at Mr. Rosenberg, I type in the shadows beneath my desk. It’s a date.
At home, it doesn’t look like Alexis is in. I enter our overgrown timber cottage to find that it is, indeed, empty. I smile. Just Noah and me.
A quick call to the Inn’s chef and Tony has our pizzas underway. A quick scan through the fridge and sodas are sitting on the coffee table. A quick brush of my hair and I remind myself to stop being vain.
I’m revising the evolutionary theories of humans, each agreeing that we are mammals and descendants of apes, but disagreeing on the road that got us here, wondering which branch would hold Weres in this centuries-old family tree, when the doorbell rings.
Caesar gives an excited bark, and we both skip over to the door. I fling it back to find Noah’s broad shoulders filling the doorway, happy eyes trapping my own, his lean legs stepping in, those delicious lips finding mine.
I throw my arms around his neck, pulling him down, as his arms tighten around my waist, pulling me closer. It’s a happy kiss, one that reaffirms how glad we are to be here.
I don’t know why this is so special or exciting. Noah and I get time alone when we’re here, when we’re hiking, when we’re at his house. But this unexpected gift is significant for some reason. I know why I’m grasping every moment I have with Noah.