by Hannah Ford
“Liam doesn’t need my help when it comes to business.”
“No, that’s true. Liam is a business genius. But he does need your help seeing how important his family is to him. This would be a good move for him, Emery. For the both of you.”
“Liam makes his own decisions,” I said, capping my water bottle. “Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s late.”
When Liam returned to bed a couple of hours later, I was still awake, laying on my back, staring up at the ceiling.
His clothes were disheveled, his hair mussed, his body radiating adrenaline and masculine energy. Like he’d gotten into a fight.
But I knew better than to ask questions.
I watched as he gazed down at me, taking in the fact that I’d taken my handcuffs off. His eyes blazed with anger and I thought for sure he was going to punish me – I could tell from the way his eyes lingered on my body that he wanted me, that he needed a release -- but he didn’t touch me.
Instead, he placed the handcuffs back around my wrist, the click echoing through the silence of the dark room.
He lay next to me, cold and quiet, and then without saying anything, he reached over and picked Harry Potter up off the nightstand.
He began to read it out loud, his voice soft and deep.
It took me a second to realize why he was doing it.
My text to Maddie.
The one I’d sent her earlier, about how I’d always wanted someone to read that book to me.
Liam was able to read all my communications
He must have seen the text.
And now he was reading to me.
I laid there, afraid to move, my eyes filling with tears as his words washed over me.
A second later, I felt his hand find mine under the covers, our fingers intertwining as the story washed over me.
That’s how we stayed all night, until I fell asleep just as the sun was cresting the horizon, his hand only leaving mine to turn the pages.
9
When I woke up the next morning, Liam was gone.
There was a note on the nightstand.
Tevi and Marnie will arrive at noon to begin getting you ready for the party this evening. Text me if there are any problems.
Short and to the point, with no mention of where he’d gone or when he would be back.
I glanced at the clock. It was already 11:45. I couldn’t believe that I’d slept so late, although it made sense since I’d been up until dawn.
I got up and opened the blinds, watching outside as a thin fog swirled over the redwoods behind the house. My phone buzzed, and I picked it up. Liam.
Be ready by five.
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to scream in frustration.
Where are you? I typed.
His reply came swiftly.
Taking care of something. There will be new security guarding the house. They are meant to be invisible, but if you see them, do not be alarmed. If you try to leave, they will alert me immediately.
What the fuck? My fingers moved swiftly over the screen.
What the fuck, Liam??
I waited as three dots appeared on the screen and then disappeared. He’d started typing something and then thought better of it.
I typed a row of question marks and was just about to push the send button when I heard the sound of two pairs of legs rushing up the stairs, along with muted giggles.
I quickly deleted the text and rushed to answer the knock on the bedroom door.
Tevi and Marnie stood there, smiles on their faces, like they’d been sharing a private joke. But as soon as they saw me standing there, their faces instantly got serious.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Marnie said quickly, glancing at Tevi nervously.
I sighed. “Please,” I said. “You don’t have to be afraid to laugh in front of me, or talk to me like I’m a normal person.” Liam had really put the fear of God into these two. He was like a dictator everyone was afraid of pissing off. “I could use a laugh this morning.”
I opened the door wider and the two of them walked into the room with their jumble of makeup cases and supplies.
“It’s just… Liam’s mom’s face when she saw us,” Marnie said. She was wearing a simple black tunic over black leggings, but her hair was woven with streaks of bright blonde, purple, and pink. She glanced at Tevi and the two of them giggled. “You could tell that she thought we were going to rob her house or something.”
“Why would she think that?” I asked, frowning. “Didn’t Liam tell her you were coming?”
“Oh, she was totally expecting us,” Marnie said, not elaborating as she ushered me into the bathroom. She began checking my extensions, her hair moving through the strands, checking the top of each one. “Have you been pulling on these?” she demanded.
“No. I mean, uh, maybe a little,” I said, remembering my little freak out in the casino hotel room.
Marnie made a sound of disapproval.
“Wait, so this was Mr. Rutherford’s room?” Tevi asked, standing in the doorway to the bathroom as she looked around. “Was it like this to begin with? Or did his parents clear it out once he moved out?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, even though Liam had told me his parents hadn’t changed his room. But to tell someone this felt like some kind of betrayal.
“It was probably like this to begin with,” Marnie said. “You can tell from the way his mother was acting What’s her name again?”
“Annabelle.”
“So pretentious!”
“What do you mean, the way his mother was asking?” I asked, as Tevi moved past me and turned the shower on, pulling the curtain closed.
“Well, look at the house they have,” Marnie said. “It’s beautiful, but you can tell they’re sort of living above their means. Liam grew up in this house, right? But his father started his restaurant business, like, five years ago, and it’s allegedly super successful. So then why do they live in the same house?”
“Because they wanted to save money?” I tried.
“No way.” Tevi shook her head. “They’re obsessed with appearances. Like this bathroom. It’s obviously an add-on.”
“An add-on?” I asked.
“Yeah. They added it on. Probably because they can’t afford to move to a bigger house, so they want this house to be big. You can tell from the way it’s decorated. There’s an addition on the back, too. You can see it from the road. It looks like they just shoved a couple more rooms onto the back.
Marnie nodded. “You should listen to Tevi. She knows all about these kind of things.”
“My dad’s a contractor,” Tevi explained.
“It makes sense,” I said. “They’re really into appearances, Liam’s family.”
“Oh, totally,” Marnie said. “Like we said, you should have seen the look she gave me and Tevi.”
“What kind of look was it?” I asked, desperate to hear about what Annabelle had done, and thankful I had someone to talk to about how strange she was.
“Oh, you know,” Tevi said, and shrugged. “Her eyes got all wide, and she looked behind us, like she was expecting some Armani suited man to show up instead.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, for some reason feeling the need to apologize.
“Oh, don’t apologize,” Marnie said. She leaned over the counter and looked at herself in the mirror, fixing one of her fake eyelashes and giving her reflection a satisfied smile, confident in herself and what she saw staring back at her. “She’s one of those people that’s all about appearances. Like, she’d rather have someone who looked the part rather than someone who’s good at what they do. You know what I mean? She’s more concerned with what other people think.”
“I cannot stand people like that,” Tevi said, shaking her head. “They’re so –“ She trailed off and straightened her shoulders. “Sorry,” she said. “I mean, I’m sure she’s perfectly nice.”
“Not really,” I said. “She’s just…
” I trailed off, realizing that no matter how much these two made me feel like they were my friends, I barely knew them. And they worked for Liam. And as much as I didn’t like that they were so scared of him, I also knew it would be completely inappropriate to confide in them. “It’s complicated,” I finished lamely.
My breath hitched as I waited for them to ask me more about what they meant, but the two of them were professionals.
They knew their clients had complicated lives, knew that they were paid to make them look beautiful, not uncomfortable.
It was just another reminder of how alone I really felt. Marnie and Tevi were fun to joke around with, but they weren’t my friends.
Maddie would have asked questions, would have pried until she got the truth out of me.
It was just another reminder of how much my life had changed.
Five hours.
That’s how long it took for me to get ready.
First there was a shower, followed by a mani pedi, followed by a waxing of, um, everywhere, followed by a touch-up of my extensions, then my makeup, which seemed to take forever, with about five different kinds of foundation, fake eyelashes, eyeliner, lipstick, lip gloss, and a finishing spray that Tevi declared would “make my look last.”
Finally, I was dressed in foundation garments, then my dress, then jewelry.
Then Marnie and Tevi were gone, with a quick squeeze of my shoulder, and exclamations of how beautiful I looked.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror they’d set up and left behind, studying myself.
My hair was lush and full, shiny and beautiful, the extensions cascading over my shoulders, indistinguishable from my own hair. A simple black sparkle headband pushed my hair away from my face.
My makeup was flawless, the techniques of a professional giving me shadows and contours that gave the illusion of cheekbones and full lips.
My dress was elegant and understated, black with cap sleeves and a nipped in bodice that flared to a skirt with just a touch of tulle to give it a puffy, edgy look without taking away the sophistication.
Simple black pumps encased my feet, and diamond stud earrings completed the look.
“You look stunning.”
Liam’s voice pulled me out of my reverie, and I turned to find him standing in the doorway.
He was dressed in a tuxedo, black with a white shirt, classic and elegant. His dark hair had been recently cut, and was perfectly coiffed. The garments were cut perfectly to his frame, expertly tailored to give him an air of sophistication and power while making sure he still looked masculine.
As he moved closer, the clean, crisp scent of his cologne hit my nose.
“Thank you,” I said, as he stood behind me in the mirror, his large frame dominating our reflection.
He reached out and slipped his hand through mine, and trailed his fingertips up my bare arms.
“Where were you all day?” I asked. “You didn’t tell me.”
“Emery.”
My eyes filled with tears, and I looked away, moving toward the chair in the corner where Marnie had left a simple sparkly black clutch. If I stayed near him, I was going to cry, and that would just ruin my mascara.
“Emery, look at me.”
“Please, Liam,” I said. “I just want to get through the night and then…”
I trailed off.
“And then what?”
“And then…” I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
He took a step toward me, but from outside, the sound of a car horn honking came from the driveway, echoing up the steps and through the open door.
“Liam! The car is here!” Annabelle’s voice pierced through the air, and I rushed out the door before Liam could stop me.
When we got to outside, a shiny black limo was waiting for us in front of the house.
A chauffeur stood next to the car, but he looked nothing like Liam’s driver, Gustav. Liam’s driver was older and had the air of a man who’d seen a lot, the lines on his face betraying his years of service.
This driver was just a kid, wearing a suit that looked too big for him and a hat that dipped over one of his eyes.
He had a spattering of acne on his chin, and his forehead was shiny.
He obviously wasn’t a private driver. Instead, he looked like the kind of driver who’d take you to the prom, like he’d been hired for a one-time gig from a service. Not that there was anything wrong with that – I never got the obsession with cars. Growing up my mom had always driven a junker that was constantly breaking down, the kind of cars you had to bribe someone at a shady gas station into giving you an inspection sticker for.
Annabelle stood in front of the limo, looking gorgeous in a long coral-colored A-line dress, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, a single strand of pearls around her neck.
Malcolm wore a tuxedo and shiny shoes, his salt and pepper hair slicked back from his face, giving him the look of an important mob boss.
“Surprise!” Annabelle yelled. “We got a limo!”
“That’s nice,” Liam said, sounding like it was anything but.
He was holding my hand, had taken it as soon as we’d stepped out of the house, as if his touch was going to keep me from leaving.
“So we’ll all ride together,” Malcolm said. He walked over and took my hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it. “You look gorgeous, Emery.”
“Thank you,” I said as I felt Liam stiffen beside me, not liking his father touching me.
“Shall we?” Malcolm asked, gesturing magnanimously to the limo.
“Actually, Emery and I are going to drive ourselves,” Liam said.
“What?” Annabelle looked almost panicked. “But we should all arrive together. It will be expected.”
“I don’t think anyone will care how we show up,” Liam said, shrugging. “Besides, I have a surprise for you both.” The tone of his voice was snide, his eyes flat. It wasn’t the way you told someone about a surprise, unless it was like, surprise, I have herpes! or something equally horrible.
My stomach flipped.
“What kind of surprise?” Malcolm said.
Liam pulled out his key fob and pushed a button, and behind us, the garage door began to open. Malcolm, Annabelle, and I all turned around to look, but Liam stayed facing forward, his eyes on his father’s face.
The garage was a two-car, and it looked almost out of place, as if it wasn’t big enough for the house since the extension had been added on.
The door finished opening, revealing a beat-up blue pickup. It looked old, and not in a good way. There was rust across the back, and the bumper looked slightly dented.
“What is that?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“It’s my truck,” Liam said, answering my question. But he was still looking at his father, and I turned to look at Malcolm.
The older Rutherford had a sick look on his face. He’d gone completely pale.
“Can you believe I tracked it down?” Liam asked. “It was at a dealership in Fresno, took me forever to get it back here.”
“That’s impressive,” his father said, staring back at Liam with cold eyes. “You always were good at finding things that had been lost.”
“Emery and I will be taking the truck to the party.”
And with that, Liam took my hand and led me to the car.
The venue was twenty minutes away from Liam’s parents’ house, and Liam was stoic on the ride over. Something about his demeanor led me to believe that I shouldn’t ask questions. But I was sick of it, was frustrated that I was never allowed to ask questions about anything.
I was about to confront him about why we were driving to a fancy party in a beat-up old pick-up truck when my phone buzzed with a text.
I looked down at the screen.
Annabelle.
Wondering if u had a chance to talk to Liam about the investment opportunity? I’m sure you could have such an influence on him!
Liam frowned as his own phone buzzed, pulled it
out, and looked at the screen. My texts must have been mirrored right to his phone.
“Why is my mother texting you?” he demanded.
“Why are we driving to the party in a beat-up pick-up truck when you’re one of the richest men in the world?” I shot back.
“Answer my question,” he said, his hand tightening around my knee.
I sighed. “She got my number at the hotel, “I said. “She wants me to ask you about investing in your father’s restaurants in Portland.”
“She what?”
“She wants me to –”
“Yeah, I heard you, Emery. It was rhetorical.”
We were pulling up in front of the Palm Bay Yacht Club now, but we were at a different entrance than we’d gone in before. This entrance was in the back, and the cobblestone path we were on curved all the way around the building, behind the club and towards the ocean.
A valet rushed over and opened the door for me, not showing any reaction to the fact that we were in a dirty old truck.
When Liam came around and took my hand, he began leading me down the twisting cobblestone path toward the water, where a yacht bobbed in the harbor.
“The party is on a boat?” I asked. “When were you going to tell me that?”
He glanced at me. “Do you get seasick?”
“No.”
“Then what does it matter?”
“It matters because you don’t tell me anything!”
“Emery, please.”
“Why did we come here in a dirty old truck?” I demanded. “Are you going to tell me that at least?”
We were approaching the yacht now, which rose out of the water majestically. It was huge, much bigger than any house I’d ever lived in. It took my breath away, and momentarily distracted me from the conversation I was having.
“No,” he said. “I’m not.”
A man in a crisp black waiter’s uniform unclipped a rope and allowed us onto the boat. Malcolm and Annabelle weren’t there yet, not that I expected them to be.