[Canyon Cove 02.0] No Regrets

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[Canyon Cove 02.0] No Regrets Page 7

by Liliana Rhodes


  "Please don't say they changed their minds," I said as I waited for the message to begin.

  "Hey Deborah, Kylie from Hargrove's. You'll never believe this, but you'll be traveling on the owner's jet." Her voice lowered before she continued. "Ends up he's got a speaking engagement or something out there. I'm jealous! Anyway, you leave Saturday. Make sure you get me your assistant's name so he knows to expect her, too. Talk soon!"

  A private jet? I immediately called Dianna, unable to believe my luck. I didn't even wait for her to say hello. I just started talking as soon as I heard her answer.

  "Oh my God oh my God, Dianna! We're going on the owner's jet!"

  "Ooh, swanky! But I can't go! Such a shame I'll miss that. I'm going to have to take a flight the next day. I couldn't get anyone to cover for me until the next shift."

  "Oh no! So I'll be traveling alone with him? I just hope he's not too much of an old fart. If I have to share a plane with him for all those hours, he better be up for talking. I know I'll be too excited to sleep."

  "I hear some of those jets have TV and everything. You won't have to talk to him. He might not even sit with you. It's an entire jet, you know."

  "Oh right, duh. What was I thinking?" I said, laughing. "I'm just not really here. Mr. Sexy is picking me up soon. He told me I'll be staying the night so my head is...well, you know."

  "Oooh, I love a man who knows what he wants. You realize I'm going to need lots of details. And as you tell me, I'll be pretending it's happening to me. Have fun!"

  "Will do!" I said. "I'll call Kylie tomorrow and tell her you're my assistant. I'm sure she'll be able to arrange for a flight for you."

  "She'd better! I can't wait!"

  Laughing, I got her off the phone and pushed all the things I needed to do to get ready for my trip to the back of my mind. Right now, I had to focus on looking good for Will and nothing else.

  Chapter Ten

  Deborah

  I packed a small overnight bag with the babydoll, a change of clothes, and some necessities, but I kept thinking about how surreal it was that I was going to spend the night like this. What happened to romance? Maybe I was over-thinking things. It wouldn't be the first time.

  Scratching Trap on the top of his head, I remembered I needed someone to watch him while I was away. Between work and school, I never made that many friends. I never had time to socialize. Ashley Boone was the only person I knew who might take Trap in.

  Checking the clock, I figured I could manage a quick call before Will showed up. I dialed her number while crossing my fingers for luck.

  "Hey Ashley, it's Deborah."

  "Oh hi! How are you doing? I was just thinking about you the other day. Joshua told me how well things were going with you at Hargrove's."

  "Well, they just got even better. I won their Annual Designer Challenge, and they want me to show my collection at Fashion Week in Paris."

  "That's incredible! Congratulations! I knew you'd win! There's no way that store has anyone else as talented as you."

  "You're sweet, thank you," I said. "I really hate to do this, but I was wondering if I could ask you a favor?"

  "Of course, whatever you want."

  "I don't know if you remember, but I have a cat named Trap. I'm leaving for Paris in a few days for two weeks and have no one else to take care of him. Would you mind if I brought him over? I know it's a long time and you're busy so if it's too much please, just say no and I'll understand."

  "It's no bother at all. Of course I'll take care of him while you're gone. Don't worry about him."

  "Thank you so much, Ash! I really do owe you."

  "Then make me something!" she said and laughed.

  "Okay, okay! I promise, after I get back," I said as I peeked out the window and saw a long black limousine pull up in front of the apartment building. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I gotta go. My date is here."

  "Ooh, date? I want to hear all about him when you drop off Trap."

  "Yes ma'am! Thanks again, Ashley. You're a lifesaver."

  Hanging up, I quickly ran to give myself a quick once over in the bathroom mirror. I decided to go casual and wear jeans with a low cut dark orange v-neck tunic with my favorite pair of strappy brown sandals.

  The buzzer rang and without waiting for him to say anything, I grabbed my things and hit the intercom. "I'm coming down now," I said, suddenly self-conscious of where I lived and not wanting him to see the tiny studio apartment I called home.

  Making sure that Trap had enough food and water, I left a nightlight on for him then stepped out into the hall and right into Will.

  "Shit, sorry! This isn't the first time I've done this. I'm a bit of a pro collider," I said as I tried to quickly pull the door closed behind me.

  Without a word, Will pushed the door open and stepped inside. His long stride made easy work of my apartment. I followed him, dropping my things on the floor by the entrance.

  "What are you doing?" I asked.

  "Looking around."

  "I can see that. The thing is I didn't invite you in. Can we just go?"

  "Why don't you want me to see where you live? I'm taking you to see my home."

  I didn't answer. He was baiting me, and I wasn't in the mood. Instead, I picked up my things and walked out. I couldn't take him looking around and seeing how poor I was.

  "Lock the door when you're done and don't let the cat out," I said as I began wondering what his problem was.

  Did he really need to control everything so much that he couldn't just accept not knowing one small thing like where I lived? It slowly dawned on me that I hardly knew anything about him. For all I knew, he could be a designer, too. Or maybe a crazed serial killer who murdered unsuspecting tailors.

  "This is ridiculous!" I said aloud as I entered my apartment again. "Will?" I called out. "Will?"

  Trap meowed as he jumped off the couch. Will had taken his blue suit jacket off and folded it over the arm of the couch. He sat beside it, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

  "You found me," he said, grinning.

  "Not a big place. Can we go now?"

  "Why? This is a great little place."

  "You've got to be kidding me. It's a shit hole," I said as I looked around, noticing the cracks on the wall and the peeling paint by the window.

  "It's your own place though. I've lived in the same house most of my life."

  "If you don't like where you live, then move."

  "No, I have to stay," he said as his face grew hard. "Let's go."

  He got up and walked past me and out the door without a word. I grabbed my bags again and locked the door as I rushed to catch up with him in the elevator. I hit the stop button.

  "What is your problem?" I demanded. "I don't even know why I followed you. I should just let you leave, I don't need this."

  "Then go."

  He looked straight ahead, his expression empty of any feeling. Somehow I felt bad for him. He was taking me to his home. I knew he was very private, and something about his home seemed to hurt him. He didn't act like it, but I couldn't help but think he needed me.

  "You can really be an asshole sometimes, you know," I said as I hit the down button and let the elevator doors close. I thought I saw him smile, but it was so brief I might have imagined it.

  Stewart stood beside the limo and opened the door for us as we left my apartment building. He took my bags and placed them in the trunk while we got into the car.

  "I'm sorry," Will said quietly. "I'm glad you're coming. I don't get many guests."

  Somehow I knew that was an understatement. I looked out the window as we drove, watching as we left the city.

  "I hate to admit this to you," I said as I watched the passing scenery, "but every day I hope you'll show up at the store again. I hate that I don't have a way to reach you."

  "Sorry, I should have left you my number. I would have been there more often, but I had a lot of business to wrap up," he said then looked out the window. "Thi
s is it."

  I leaned over to look out his window and saw nothing but trees behind a tall stone fence. The car slowed and I saw we had stopped in front of an old wrought iron gate, which slowly opened.

  "This is where you live?" I asked, stunned.

  He nodded. "My mother found that gate on a trip to France. There are things like that all over the property. She had a great eye and saw beauty everywhere." He looked down, visibly upset, before his face turned to stone again.

  We were quiet during the short drive to his mansion. It looked like something out of a movie with its gothic design and enormity. I thought places like this didn't really exist, at least not as people's homes.

  Once we were inside, I couldn't stop looking around. There were oil paintings and sculptures everywhere. Even a suit of shining armor. I felt like I had walked into a museum.

  "I can't believe this is your home."

  He shrugged and picked up my bags, which Stewart had placed on the floor. "I'll show you to your room," he said.

  "My room? But I thought..."

  Laughing, he shook his head. "Maybe I'm a little old fashioned. It's not that I don't want to, of course, but I know I can be a little demanding. This way, if you think I'm being an asshole again, you have space to yourself."

  I burst out laughing as I followed him up a large curved marble staircase. Upstairs was more homey. At the top of the stairs was a loft area with a balcony that overlooked the expansive living space below. A honey-colored berber carpet covered the floor along the hall, and the only hint of the gothic styling of the rest of the mansion were the oversized double doors we passed.

  Towards the end of one of the long halls, Will dramatically opened both doors of one of the rooms, then stepped aside as he put down my bags.

  "Are you going to enter?" he asked, noticing my frozen state.

  "I...I..." I tried to speak, but words wouldn't come out. Just the little glimpse of what I saw was too much.

  Taking one of my hands in his, with his other hand on the small of my back, he led me into the room. His wood-spice scent mixed with the smell of new furniture and fresh paint, and I had to stop again when my legs felt weak.

  The room was easily twice the size of my entire apartment. At the center of the room was a king-sized bed with a plum upholstered headboard. The bedding was reminiscent of the fabric I made the skirt out of with watercolor purple flowers. Next to me was a small sitting area with several plush almond-colored chairs with plum throw pillows. Light poured into the sitting area from French doors that opened to a small balcony overlooking a flower garden and a view of the valley.

  "What is all this? I mean it's beautiful. It's the bedroom of my dreams and even in my favorite color, but...I just don't understand," I said as I tore my eyes away from the room to look up into his smiling face.

  "I knew you'd like it. I know we're both busy and I don't get to see you nearly as much as I would like, so I wanted to give you a room here. I want you to move in, but it's up to you. You can stay here whenever you like."

  Speechless, I hugged him tight and felt his strong body slowly relax as he stroked my hair and held me close.

  "Sir, dinner is ready," Stewart said from the hall.

  "Seems like we're always getting interrupted," Will said as he let me go and we followed Stewart back downstairs and into the formal dining room.

  The focal point of the dining room was a long walnut table that could easily seat twenty people. Noticing two settings at either ends of the table, I started to laugh.

  "Okay, now you've got to be kidding me," I said.

  Will looked at me for a second before laughing, too. "I thought you'd like this. Find it all impressive and formal. Don't women like that? It's worked before." He grinned slyly.

  I rolled my eyes at him. "I don't know, maybe some do, but I think this is ridiculous," I said, trying to stop laughing as I imagined us trying to have a conversation from across the length of the table. "Do you normally eat here?"

  "Of course, all the time." He was serious for a moment and then laughed. "I've actually only been in this room a handful of times. Stewart and I usually eat together in the kitchen."

  "Then let's eat in there. I mean, you saw my apartment, I really don't need all this. And I hope Stewart will be joining us. If you normally eat with him and I'm going to be here more often, then I should get to know him better."

  The kitchen looked like it was suited more for a restaurant than a house. With a walk-in pantry the size of my apartment and a walk-in refrigerator and freezer, I was surprised to find them mostly empty.

  I set a small chef block style table as Stewart served and Will opened a bottle of wine. Unable to keep my curiosity at bay any longer, I started asking questions.

  "Will, you said you've lived here all of your life. Is it just the two of you here?"

  "We had a smaller home before, but I was little so I don't remember it. My father made some wise business decisions and that cemented our wealth. This property was a gift to my mother, who always loved it. Stewart and I are the only people who live here. There are some housekeepers and gardeners, but they come and go."

  "And how long have you known Stewart?"

  "Almost my whole life. After my parents passed, it was Stewart who raised me. He used to drive for my father."

  "Oh? I had no idea."

  "Yes, that's true," Stewart said. "Will's parents didn't have any family. Luckily I had been named guardian or Will would have become a ward of the state."

  "So you're like a father to him," I said.

  "No, not really. I was young myself when it happened, only in my twenties. Will was eight at the time so if anything, I was more of an older brother. I knew nothing about raising a child, but I swore to protect him."

  "I'm sure that was hard on both of you," I said as I looked over at Will, who set glasses of white wine on the table.

  "It was," he said coldly. "Now I think we should move on."

  Stewart shot Will a mean look, but nothing else was said. We sat quietly, eating roasted chicken and potato gratin with a rich cheddar cheese and jalapeño sauce that was delicious. I wanted to ask if Stewart cooked since I didn't see anyone else in the giant mansion, but I didn't want to upset Will any further with my questions.

  The silence lasted the rest of the meal. I couldn't take it anymore, so once I was done eating, I got up to excuse myself.

  "I think I'll head up to bed," I said. "I need to get up early to pack my apartment for storage and get ready for Paris."

  "Paris?" Stewart asked.

  "Oh yes. I won the design competition at Hargrove's. Not only that, but I'm showing my collection at Fashion Week in Paris!"

  "Congratulations! I'm surprised Will didn't tell me."

  "That's my fault, with everything going on, I completely forgot to tell him. And Will, I would've never been able to win without you helping me with the fabrics."

  "You did it all on your own, Deborah," Will said. "It was your designs and skill that won, I did nothing."

  "I couldn't have created my samples without you. You have no idea how broke I am right now." I felt embarrassed admitting it, no matter how true it was. "Anyway, I have a lot to do in the next couple of days. Thank you for everything. Good night!"

  I left them and tried to figure out my way back upstairs to my bedroom, but I got lost. Turning back, I entered what I thought was the dining room so I could retrace my steps but entered a library instead.

  The room was dark with mahogany floor-to-ceiling built in bookcases and a desk the size of my car at the end of the room. On the desk was an old push button telephone and a calendar from twenty-five years ago. The desk hadn't been used in all that time.

  Above the desk was a large oil portrait of a small family--father, mother, and son--all with dark brown hair and impeccably dressed standing in front of a Christmas tree with piles of gifts all around.

  They were an attractive family and I knew they had to be related to Will somehow, so I got cl
oser to the painting. With genuine looking smiles on their faces, it was obvious this was a happy family. And the boy, with his hazel eyes with green flecks, was undeniably Will.

  "I knew you'd get lost," Will said, startling me.

  "I should've asked for directions, but honestly they probably wouldn't have helped," I said, laughing. "Are these your parents?"

  He nodded. "Yes, that was taken shortly before..." his voice trailed off.

  I wanted to ask him how it happened, but by the quick flash of green in his eyes and how his face suddenly hardened, I knew I wouldn't get an answer. Instead, I wrapped my arms around him. He held me tight, as if everything depended on that hug, and then kissed the top of my head as he exhaled.

  "Come, I'll take you to your room. I want to talk to you privately anyway," he said.

  "What is it?" I asked once we entered my room.

  Will walked over to one of the chairs and patted the top of it. "Please, sit," he said, then he opened the French doors, letting in a warm breeze and the sweet scent of roses and honeysuckle.

  "Did I do something? Is something wrong?"

  "No. It's just...you said you were going to put your things into storage. I'd really like you to consider keeping them here. Even if after you return from Paris and you decide to get another apartment, I'll feel better knowing your things are here. Where it's safe."

  "What is it with all this safety? Is someone after you?"

  "I don't know. It's been like this most of my life. There have been threats, incidents. It's why I've always closed myself off from everyone. Until now." He walked back over to me and sat on the edge of the seat in front of me and took my hands. "The world is a bad place, Deborah. But you can always be safe here."

  I wanted to say I didn't understand. I needed to know why between him and Stewart, they always seemed to be concerned about safety. But I could see in his eyes that he was telling me the truth and trusted me. Learning to trust someone was hard for me too, and here Will was, letting me into his life in a way he never had with anyone else. I was in no place to question him.

 

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