She dried her tears, and noticed her hands were shaking badly once again. She’d been slowly weaning herself off the drugs, having tried to do it all at once, and suffering horrible side effects as a result. Not wanting to let Zachary know she was onto his game, she’d been slowly decreasing the dose of her special vitamins that she consumed each day.
She reached for the vitamin bottle, and carefully broke one of the tablets in half. She took one half, and then walked to the bathroom and flushed the rest of the tablet down the toilet. So much for thinking I could go without these stupid pills!
She returned to the luxuriously decorated living room and stared out of the large picture windows at the New York skyline. I wish I was still in Cathedral Hills. She wrapped her arms around herself, and then headed for the bedroom. With nothing else to do, she would watch television, and hopefully slip into a dreamless sleep where the nightmare her life had become would fade away for a few short hours. Maybe when she woke she’d try Tyler again – if Zachary hadn’t remembered the phone and come home to retrieve it.
Chapter 2
Present day
Peter exited the New York City airport terminal, and immediately longed for the clean air of the Colorado Mountains. The New York air was heavy with the smell of exhaust, road tar from the recently repaired road in front of him, and a number of other odors he didn’t find pleasant at all.
He stepped to the small waiting platform with a taxi sign fixed above it,and then looked at the emailed information Tyler had sent him earlier. According to the marriage license that had been found online, Brooke Jameson had married Zachary Grayson four months ago. There was an address listed, but when Peter had googled it, the address came up as belonging to the New York City District Attorney’s office. A dead end!
A yellow cab approached, and stopped in front of him. He tucked his suitcase inside and then climbed in. He gave the only address he had to the driver, and then tried to come up with a plan of attack once he got there.
Glancing at his watch, he realized it was already 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and he only hoped there would be someone still in the government office who might know of Zachary Grayson and where he could be found.
He paid the exorbitant taxi fare when they reached the justice building, and then entered the building and stopped to look at the directory. A security station was set up in the center of the foyer, preventing anyone from entering the rest of the building without going through a metal detector and physical pat down. Crime must be alive and well in New York!
He saw that the District Attorney’s office occupied both the seventh and the eighth floors. Well that narrows it down! Approaching the security guard station, he smiled and waited for one of the uniformed men to acknowledge his presence.
“Can I help you?” the younger of the two men asked, his name tag identifying him as Brad.
“I hope so. I’m looking for Zachary Grayson, and was wondering if one of you could direct me to his office?”
“Do you have an appointment with Mr. Grayson?”
Ah, so this is where he works! Step one accomplished. “Not really. I’m a friend of his wife’s, was in town for just a few hours, and was hoping to take them both to dinner.”
“Well, I doubt he’s still here this late in the day, but I can call up to his office and check.”
“Thanks. That would be very helpful.” Peter tucked his hand in his front pocket as he waited.
“Sorry, he’s already left for the day. Would you like me to see if he has an emergency number on file? I could give him a call on that?”
“No, I have his cell phone number. I’ll give it a call.” Peter started to move away, and then turned back on an after thought, “Do you know if they kept their apartment in the city?” He heard that most people who worked in the city kept an apartment there as well because the traffic was so bad. Hopefully that was true for the unknown Zachary Grayson. He was fishing for information, and mentally crossed his fingers that he’d catch something besides a dead end.
“Hey, Stan, did Mr. Grayson keep his dad’s penthouse apartment after he got married?”
“I believe so. Who wants to know?”
“This guy says he’s a friend of Miss Brooke’s and was in town for a few hours. He was wanting to surprise her.”
Stan nodded his head, “I’m pretty sure he still has that apartment on the Upper East Side. It’s been in the Grayson family for decades. His daddy used it when he was the DA.”
“There you go,” the uniformed officer named Brad told him with a smile. “Do you remember how to get to the apartment?”
Peter laughed, “Honestly, I’m so turned around once I get down in all these tall buildings – No. Where I come from, you can see for miles and I navigate by which mountain range is in front of me.”
Both security guards laughed, with Stan commenting, “I know how that goes. I grew up in Ohio. We didn’t have your mountains, but I never remember getting lost either.” The man pulled a sheet of paper towards him and then jotted down an address, “Just give that to the taxi driver and he’ll know how to get you there.”
“Thanks buddy. That’s really nice of you.” Peter reached out and shook both uniformed security guards’ hands. It never hurt to make friends, and since he had no idea of what he was walking into, having a friend in Zachary’s office could come in handy.
“Yeah, don’t mention it. And I truly mean that. Don’t mention it. To anyone.” Brad winked at him, as did Stan.
Peter finished shaking Brad’s hand and assured them, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul about this conversation.” He crossed his fingers of his heart and then held up a two finger salute, “Scout’s honor. You all have a nice evening now.”No need for them to know he’d never been part of a scout troop.
“You too. I hope Miss Brooke likes her surprise.”
“I’m sure she will,” he commented, as he turned and walked away. Peter exited the building, dragging his small suitcase behind him and flagged down another taxi. He handed the piece of paper to the turban-clad man, the smell of curry and some other spice making his eyes water. The sound of Indian music filled the interior of the cab, and Peter decided that New York City was just full of new experiences, many to be had inside a taxi cab.
He sat in the back of the taxi, watching the cars move slowly, like an inchworm along a stick. He glanced out the windows at the other vehicles, and noticed that more than half of the cars on the street were taxis cabs. Did no one in this town drive themselves?
Twenty minutes later, the traffic started to thin out, and Peter breathed a sigh of relief. He still hadn’t figured out what he was going to say to Brooke when he saw her. Hey! Remember me? I’m the man you were supposed to marry instead of some unknown guy your family’s never heard of? He discarded that idea; the old Brooke wouldn’t have appreciated his sarcasm. But then again, the old Brooke would have never dropped off the face of the earth and married some unknown guy! And not told her family or friends about it!
“Here you are,” the driver announced, coming to a stop in front of a lavish apartment building that stood at least twenty floors high.
He paid the taxi fare, grimacing as he realized that he was going to have to find an ATM if he kept going through cash this fast. He pulled his suitcase out of the cab, and then made his way to where a uniformed porter stood on the red carpet leading into the building.
“Good evening, sir. May I help you find someone?” the older man asked. He was a tall man, only an inch or two shorter than Peter’s 6’4”, with white hair that was covered by a brimmed hat. His red, double breasted coat stretched over his ample stomach, and Peter immediately wondered if he had ever lost one of the gold buttons from the strain upon the fabric.
“I was looking for the Grayson residence,” Peter told him with a smile.
The man looked at his suitcase and then back to his eyes, “Were they expecting you?”
Peter shook his head, “No. I’m in town for a few hours and I’
m a friend of Brooke’s.”
“Well, I will call up, but Mr. Grayson asked for his car to be brought around in half an hour as he and Mrs. Grayson were going out for the evening.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Peter appeared to be undecided about his next action and then nodded his head, “Well, I wouldn’t want to disrupt their plans. I’ll be back in town in a week; I’ll give them a call from the airport and make arrangements to meet up with them then.” Peter nodded at the man and then waved for the taxi driver to wait.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to call up and let them know you’re here?”
“No, really. I’d much rather it be a surprise when I come back. Brooke would feel badly if she knew I was down here and she couldn’t spend any time with me.”
The porter looked unsure of himself but then he nodded, “Very good. Have a nice flight to wherever your final destination is this evening.”
Peter nodded to the man, “Thanks. I look forward to seeing you again in a week.”
“Very good, sir.”
Peter climbed back inside the taxi and then asked his driver, “Feel like playing a little game?”
“A game?” the taxi driver asked.
“Yeah. See, I’m here to see an old friend of mine, but she doesn’t know I’m in town. She’s getting ready to go out with her husband, and I want to follow her and then surprise her at dinner.”
“You wish to stalk this woman?” the driver asked with unease in his voice.
“No! No! I don’t want to stalk anyone; I just want you to follow her because I’m not sure which restaurant they’re headed to. I’ll make it worth your while,” Peter told him, holding up a hundred dollar bill.
“Oh…I can do that. We will park just inside the garage. That way, they cannot leave without us seeing them do so.”
“Brilliant plan.”
The driver drove around the block, and then pulled into the small parking garage situated beneath the apartment building, “We will wait here. You tell me when you see their car leave.”
Peter nodded his head, and started scanning the parking garage for movement. Ten minutes later, the elevator doors opened, and he watched as an unknown man escorted a very skimpily clad Brooke out and towards a black sports car.
Peter tried not to dwell on what she was, or wasn’t, wearing. He kept his eyes trained on her face and was stunned at the blankness of her expression. She almost acted bored!
“You wish me to follow them?” the taxi driver asked.
“Yes, but stay back far enough they can’t see us.”
“Will do.” The taxi set off after the dark black sports car, keeping several vehicles in between them as it slowly made its way back downtown. It finally came to a stop in front of a very exclusive restaurant and nightclub, and Peter cringed as he looked down at what he was wearing.
Worn denim jeans, a button down chambray shirt in blue, with a leather belt and buckle wrapped around his waist. Worn western boots completed his attire – definitely not up to New York standards.
As he sat there, he saw a delivery truck go down the alley behind the building. Several men got out of the vehicle and began carrying boxes from their delivery van into the back of the restaurant.
Peter leaned forward and gestured towards a side street a block away, “Do me a favor, pull your cab down there and just park. I’m going to see just how swanky this place is and I’ll be right back.”
“Why do you not just go in the front door?” the driver asked confused.
“Did you see what I was wearing when I got in your cab? I’ll stick out like a sore thumb, and that would embarrass Brooke. The exact opposite of what I’m here to do.”
When the cab driver nodded his head, Peter slid out of the cab and hurried down the alley. He grabbed a stack of boxes, and held them in front of him as he headed towards the propped open door. He passed several men coming out of the restaurant and one of them told him, “Down the hallway to your left.”
“Got it,” Peter told the unknown man, and turned towards his left. He could hear soft music coming from his right, and the distinct sounds of a working kitchen to his left. He set his stack of boxes down with the others, and then headed back to the hallway. Instead of exiting, he turned to his left and slid into the back of the nightclub portion of the building.
The dark walls and ceilings, accompanied by dim lighting aided him in his attempt to remain undetected. He could see groups of people gathered around small tables, or enjoying themselves on the dance floor. What he didn’t immediately see was Brooke.
He let his eyes slowly scan the large room, and then he spotted her in the back corner with the man she’d left the apartment with. He assumed the man was her husband, Zachary Grayson.
He watched as they were joined by several other gentlemen, all of whom paid what Peter deemed an inappropriate amount of attention to Brooke. He couldn’t see her face clearly, but even from a distance, he could read her body language – she was uncomfortable and barely tolerating the unwanted attention.
When an older man took her arm and pulled her towards the dance floor, Peter couldn’t believe she didn’t put up a struggle or object. The man had his hands all over her back, and was holding her much too close. Much too close! Peter was livid on her behalf, and then they turned around so he could see her face. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears, and Peter immediately knew that something was not right with this situation.
When the music stopped, Brooke excused herself and headed towards the opposite side of the dance floor. Peter stayed close to the walls and followed her, relieved to see she was only heading towards the women’s washroom.
He waited for a few minutes, but when she didn’t come out, he grew concerned that his opportunity to speak with her alone was almost gone. Stepping up to the bathroom door, he gently tapped on the wooden door and then pushed the door open a crack. “Brooke?” he whispered loudly, lest there be other occupants in the elegantly appointed room.
Hearing no answer to his question, he decided to chance it, and slid through the opening. He pushed the door shut behind him, engaging the deadbolt at he did so. He bent over and was relieved to see only one pair of feet beneath the stalls. “Brooke?”
He heard a sniffle and then a soft voice, “Tell Zachary I’ll be right out.”
Tell Zachary? “Brooke? It’s Peter.”
“Peter?” her voice came again, a little higher pitched and confused. A few seconds later, the stall door opened and she emerged from the stall with a look of shock on her face. “Peter? What are you doing here?”
Peter looked at her and could see that she was almost too thin. Though her makeup was expertly done, her skin had a slight pallor to it, as if she hadn’t spent any time in the sun for months. “Are you okay?”
She nodded once and then asked again, wringing her hands at the same time, “What are you doing here? Does Zachary know you’re here?”
Peter shook his head, “No one knows I’m here. After you called home a few weeks ago, everyone realized that something wasn’t right, and I came out here to find you. I stopped by your apartment, but you and your husband were headed out.”
Brooke looked like she was going to be sick, “You know about my marriage?”
“I don’t know that I would go that far. Michelle found a copy of your marriage license on line when she was researching the phone number you called from.”
“Michelle?” Brooke’s face fell and the tears that she’d been so valiantly trying to hold back spilled over.
Chapter 3
She felt the tears run over her cheeks and drip onto her chest. “I…Peter…”
Peter couldn’t stand to see her so upset, and he slowly approached her, pulling her into his arms when she didn’t put up any resistance. It had been years since he’d last held her in his arms, but the old feelings he had for her hadn’t faded one bit. I still love her!
“Brooke, what’s going on here?” He started to run his hands up and down her back, an
d then realized the entire back of her dress was missing. Instead, he simply wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close for a moment, relishing the way she leaned into him after a few seconds pause. They stayed that way for several long heartbeats, but then reality returned.
“I’ve been such a fool,” she told him, pushing away from his chest to pace the small distance of the bathroom. “He’s going to come looking for me if I don’t get back out there soon.”
“Who’s going to come looking for you? Your husband?”
Brooke nodded nervously, “Yeah. Zachary doesn’t like it when I’m out of his sight for very long.”
“Sounds like he’s a controlling jerk,” Peter said before he could stop himself. He started to apologize, but then her murmured words registered.
“You don’t know that half of it.”
Peter looked at her and then asked her, “Brooke, do you want to stay here? In New York? Is that why you were trying to contact Tyler? Are you in trouble?”
Brooke wrapped her arms around herself as another bout of shivers wracked her body. Zachary hadn’t given her any advance notice of tonight’s little party, or the fact that she was expected to entertain his guests and then pose for some photos with them later. The man who’d pulled her to the dance floor was running some sort of political campaign, and seemed to think that having a beautiful woman hanging on his arm would help his chances of winning an election.
Brooke disagreed, but then again – she hadn’t been asked for her opinion. Since she hadn’t been forewarned, she’d gone all day long without taking anything, and hadn’t had a chance to grab even half a pill, not with Zachary watching her every move. As far as he knew, she should have taken her vitamins with her lunch and there should have been plenty of the drug still in her system for tonight’s event.
She shivered again, and Peter noticed right away. “Are you cold?”
Romance: Brooke and Peter - A Christian Romance as a Love Story: (Romance, Christian Romance, Romance Novel, Romance Book) (Cathedral Hills Book 3) Page 2