by Lee, Nadia
I trot upstairs and into my bedroom. Three suitcases are laid open—one on the bed and two on the floor. Sam’s dumping my clothes and shoes into one of them.
“What do you think you’re doing? Don’t touch my stuff!” I say, my voice loud and sharp.
I start to move toward the bag to take my stuff out. Sam puts a hard hand on my arm and jerks me back. “Don’t even think about it.”
“You can’t make me board that plane.”
“Oh, yes, I can, Iris. And I will.”
This is too much. Sam has never physically forced me to do anything. His method is subtler, usually involving trying to guilt me into doing things his way. I want to know what’s got him acting like this. “Why are you doing this to me? I like it here, Sam!”
His jaw works like he’s rolling words in his mouth and debating which to spit at me. Finally, he says, “L.A. isn’t safe. You’re better off elsewhere.”
“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. No big city is safe.”
“You shouldn’t have let those videos get online. Or be seen with Anthony Blackwood of all people!”
So we’re back to that again? “Sam, be reasonable. I’m not going to flee the city like some criminal. And over some videos or a date with a perfectly respectable man? I have friends here. A job! Am I supposed to tell Elizabeth, ‘Great working with you for a day but adios’ because you’re freaked out about the videos—which, by the way, happen to have her brother in them?”
Sam blinks once, frenetic calculations running over his face. “You’re working for Elizabeth King?”
“Yes.”
“How do you even know her?”
“I don’t, really. I interviewed for an open position.”
“And she hired you. Like that.” He snorts, then mutters something that sounds like fucking bullshit. “It doesn’t matter. Tell her you got a better offer. The end. She can’t make you work for her.”
“No!”
“There are other jobs in the world!”
“Yes, but I want this one.”
“What’s so different about this one? You think you can be like Elizabeth if you work for her?”
“I’m not trying to be her. I’m trying to live my life. You say you want the best for me, but you won’t let me make any decisions about my life. Every time I do, you find a reason to overrule it or undermine me somehow. Like now. When you needed me to play at the reception, you pretended like you were fine with me deciding to settle down here, but now look at you! Trying to force me to go to a country halfway around the planet!”
“I’m doing this for you!”
“I’m twenty-seven years old!”
“You’re a child! You don’t know everything! You remember only what I told you.” He karate-chops his open palm after each sentence. “Your head is blank! An empty canvas.” Sam is practically screaming now.
I’m shaking so hard I’m afraid I’m going to fall. I had no idea he felt this way about me. I thought he wanted to help me recover and lead a productive life. I thought he was overprotective and worried too much about my “fragile mental state” because he saw me break down like my world was ending after waking up from the coma and learning that my parents were gone. Or that time when I tried to perform and panicked so much that I thought I was having a heart attack.
“Sorry to be such a heavy burden, Sam,” I say stiffly.
“That’s not what I mea—”
“What the hell is going on here?”
Sam swivels his head at the cold voice from Tony.
Tony takes one look at my face, comes over and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Are you all right?”
I start to nod, then change my mind and shake my head instead.
He takes in the suitcases and glares at Sam. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“She can’t stay in Los Angeles.”
“Why the hell not?”
“It’s all your fault, you son of a bitch,” Sam hisses.
“That’s where you have it wrong. I definitely want her to stay here, and I’m not letting you abuse her this way.”
Sam regards Tony, then laughs dryly. “Have you ever considered what Margot would think if she saw that video of you two together?”
The name Margot creates a tiny ripple on my mind, like a snake under a sheet.
Tony’s voice grows colder. “Leave my mother out of this. You’d do well to remember I don’t take kindly to people trying to use her.”
“Why the hell do you care? She disowned your ass.”
“She’s still my mother.”
Sam sneers. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you know what she really is—what she did.”
“There’s nothing she could’ve done that’d change how I feel about her.”
“Even ruining your life?” Sam’s gaze darts toward me so fast that I almost miss it, then swings back to Tony.
“Even that.”
“Well. I still can’t have you making decisions for my darling niece.”
“If she doesn’t want to go, you can’t make her. Don’t push me, Sam. I can destroy what you’ve built.”
“At what cost to yourself?”
“Unlike you, I don’t give a damn about the cost. But you…” Tony sneers. “You’re different. You couldn’t bear to be a nobody again. You need your money like a baby needs its mother’s tit.”
An ugly shade of red blooms on Sam’s face. “You fucking bastard.”
Tony smiles, a mere baring of teeth. “Get out before I throw you out.”
Sam shoots me a “this isn’t finished” look, then storms out. The tension in the room drops, and my legs turn to jelly. I sit heavily on the edge of the bed, my hands an inch above my knees.
Tony pulls me into his arms. “Hey, it’s okay.” He cradles my head, stroking me, offering solid comfort and warmth as I shiver.
“How did you get here? I thought we were meeting at your place.”
He shrugs. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”
That’s really sweet, but… “I’m sorry you had to see that,” I say, humiliated. How many of Sam’s horrible, ugly words did Tony hear?
“I’m glad I was here to put a stop to it. He won’t do anything like this to you again.”
I rest my head on his chest. “Is he going to have an unfortunate series of falls in a dark garden, too?” I ask, half-serious.
He laughs softly. “No. I’ll just leave him penniless. That’ll be the cruelest fate of all for someone like Sam.”
I shake my head, remembering what Sam said about how it would cost Tony. “Don’t. He’s not worth it.”
“There’s nothing I won’t do to keep you safe.” He places a tender kiss on my forehead, then starts putting my things away.
“Hold on,” I say from the bed, my legs still feeling like noodles. Shivers are still running through me. “I don’t want to stay here tonight.”
I get up unsteadily and make a concerted effort to regain control of my body. Then I grab my toiletries from the bathroom and add them to one of the suitcases. Tony takes it, and I hold his hand as we go downstairs.
Julie clears her throat. “Is everything okay? I’m sorry. About Sam.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know.” Besides, I’ve always told her he took care of me, so she had no reason to believe he would be such a jerk. “But if he comes back again, don’t let him in.”
“Definitely. You need anything?”
I shake my head. “I think I’ll stay with Tony tonight.”
She gives Tony a small nod. “Take care of her.”
“I will,” he replies.
She hugs me. “Sorry again. Be safe.”
I hug her back, squeezing hard, so she knows we’re good. Then Tony and I leave, climb into the back of the waiting Cullinan and pull away.
After a few minutes, he asks, “Does Sam always become that agitated over videos?”
“‘Always’? It’s not like I’m a big YouTube star or anything.” I shrug. “H
e was unhappy about Byron’s video, but didn’t yell about it too much because he wanted me to play at that reception. This time, though… I mean, he’s never tried to forcibly ship me off to Asia before. He’s usually more on the persuasive side.”
Tony’s eyes narrow into two brilliant green slits. “What’s his deal this time, then?”
“I think he was more upset we were together, but…” I pause. Sam seems to know this Margot, and maybe, just maybe, he’s worried about how Tony’s mother will feel. Will she disapprove of me? “Do you think your mother’s going to be upset?”
Tension starts radiating from Tony. “I don’t know.” He hesitates, then adds, “I haven’t seen her in the best part of a decade.”
Oh, crap. If I were alone, I would literally be kicking myself. Marty and Sam both said Tony was disowned. Of course he hasn’t seen his mother, or knows what she might think about who he dates. But he obviously still loves and cares about her deeply. Ugh, I’m such an idiot, picking at his painful past. I should just stop talking before I do any more damage.
Tony’s quiet for a moment. “If Sam weren’t trying to force you, would you want to go to Tokyo?”
“No! Do you know why I came to L.A.? To settle down. I’m tired of traveling around the world.”
“Okay. It’s just, most people would love the opportunity.”
“Believe me, I’ve had the opportunity. It’s fun your first year. After that, not so much. It’s like…” Suddenly, the way I felt traveling in Europe and Asia finally clicks.
“What?” Tony asks.
“Like being exiled,” I whisper.
Oh my God. How come I never thought of that until now? It was a punishment…never allowed to return…forever forced to wander the globe, like some medieval curse. It didn’t matter what I wanted. Except I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it. Or why Sam always presented it as a treat for me. Or as a way to recover and be happy. Maybe that’s why it took me this long to put it together—because deep inside, I needed to believe he truly wanted me to be happy. But now, I see how foolish I was to cling to that belief, putting an optimistic gloss on his motivation because he was the only person by my side when I was at my weakest and most vulnerable.
“I know it sounds melodramatic, but seriously, that’s how it was. The trips were always luxurious and nice, but it was clear I wasn’t supposed to come home.” I lean closer to Tony. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes,” he says, his eyes sympathetic. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“So you don’t think I’m weird for feeling this way, right?”
“No.” He looks at me, thoughts I can’t fathom crossing his face. “I’ve had the same thing happen to me.”
Oh, Tony. I lay a hand over his and squeeze. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It was a long time ago,” he says in a low voice. “Doesn’t matter now.” He lays the other hand over mine and squeezes gently.
“Do you still want to hear me play?” I tilt my head. “We can do something else if you want.”
He leans closer until his lips are almost brushing my ear. “You know what I want—to be inside you, feeling your pussy spasming around my cock all night long.”
White-hot heat sizzles in my gut, slickening the flesh between my legs. I let out a slow breath and squeeze them together.
“But we can do what you want tonight,” he adds.
“How about both?” I say, my voice slightly thick.
He laughs wickedly, the sound rippling over me like a physical touch. And when he kisses me, every thought vanishes from my head except for how much I adore him.
Chapter Sixty-One
Iris
The next morning, I look through my suitcase and blink when I see at least six office-appropriate dresses and shoes. “Wow. I expected something I could wear, but didn’t realize Sam packed it for office work.”
“That was me. I put those in while you were in the bathroom grabbing stuff.”
“But six? You know I’m not that picky,” I say as I slink into a mocha- and cream-colored dress, my hair dry. Tony bought a dryer.
“I know,” he says, handing me coffee. He’s already showered and in a crisp white dress shirt and dark slacks, ready to conquer the world.
While I sip the fresh, bittersweet brew, he zips my dress in the back and presses a kiss to the nape of my neck.
“Then why did you bring so many outfits?” I smile slyly. “You couldn’t figure out what I’d be in the mood for, could you?”
He chuckles. “I know exactly what looks good on you, but no. I brought them all just in case you want to spend the week here.”
He says it so casually, it takes me a second to process. Oh my. I thought I was falling too fast, but here he is, practically asking me to move in. My head says it’s way, way too soon, but my heart says it’s not.
“You have keys, so…” He shrugs.
A hint of vulnerability, and my heart wins. “Of course. Besides, it’ll be easier anyway. The commute yesterday was horrible.”
“We can leave together, and I can pick you up after work.”
“Do you know Elizabeth shows up early? I feel like I should too.”
“She’s a workaholic, but her husband’s out of town this week. Some big deal in China happening for his company.”
“Someone else said something similar. What does her husband have to do with her coming to work early?”
“When he’s in town, she’s usually on time…or a little bit late.”
Aww. “That’s really cute.”
“Match made in heaven. Unexpected, too—they’re from very different backgrounds.” He reaches into a drawer in the island in the walk-in closet. “You need a necklace to go with that dress.”
Hmm. The scoop neckline could use a little something, but…
Tony pulls out something shiny and puts it around my throat, then looks at my reflection, his hand resting on the slope between my shoulder and neck. A gorgeous, round disk with the sun, moon and stars rests a few inches below the hollow point on my throat. Made with yellow, white and rose gold, the pendant hangs from a simple white gold chain.
“It’s beautiful,” I say in awe, running my fingers over the cool, uneven surface. A faint sense of familiarity tickles me… Maybe I saw it in some European jewelry store?
“A fitting necklace for the beautiful woman in my life,” he whispers against the side of my neck. His lips are so close that each syllable brushes my skin.
Delicious shivers run through me. “Where did you get it?”
“It’s custom-designed. One of a kind.” He lifts his head and studies me. “Why?”
I stare at the pendant, and the oddest sense of déjà vu passes over me once more. But…I’m probably confused. I wish I hadn’t said anything, but Tony’s waiting for a response. “It just feels like I’ve seen it somewhere.”
His hand flexes slightly against my shoulder. “Really?”
“But that can’t be right. Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me, making me think I’ve seen or heard something I haven’t, or vice versa. Like Schubert.”
“What about it?”
“I don’t remember ever having practiced it, but I was able to play it with you.”
Tony looks down briefly, hiding his gaze from mine. “I remember. Does that happen a lot?”
“With piano pieces, yeah. That’s why I started to practice so much, just to see what I could do. Sometimes I wonder what else I can play. It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“I think it makes you especially wonderful.” He inhales softly, then smiles. “Let’s get ourselves fed or we’re going to be late. Nobody cares if I’m late, but I’m sure you’re going to care if you are.”
I link my hand with his and we walk to the kitchen together. Something is a bit different about Tony this morning, more resolute and sweeter somehow. The latter I don’t mind, but the former? It leaves another ripple on my mind, just like the name Margot did.
Chap
ter Sixty-Two
Anthony
You don’t know everything! You remember only what I told you.
Sam’s raging words replayed in my head last night and all through the morning and afternoon. Just what the hell did he do? What did he tell her?
Your head is blank! An empty canvas.
Iris said she was in a coma for a year. Can you actually erase somebody’s memory? Or was he exaggerating? It would be like him. He likes to talk big and spend bigger than he can really back up. Still…
I swivel in my office chair and look out onto the bustling city at my feet. He doesn’t want me near her. He even brought up Mother in an attempt to manipulate me.
Edgar’s findings float up in my mind. Iris is a real person. She checked out. So she can’t possibly be my Ivy…at least, according to my brother.
But…
My phone pings with a text. It’s from Harry.
FYI I’m still in Tempérane. Mom fainted dead away at dinner yesterday.
My gut tightens, a sour tang flooding my mouth. Is she okay?
She’s okay now.
What did the doctor say?
Nothing. She didn’t see one.
Shouldn’t she, though? Mother’s so frail, so delicate, like a hothouse orchid that’s never faced even the gentlest of breezes.
She says she’s fine.
I grit my teeth. Didn’t anybody tell you when a woman says she’s fine, she’s lying?
You think I can make her do what she doesn’t want to?
I start to type no, then stop. Why…yes. Sam. A sudden chill sweeps through me, especially after the confrontation last night. There was such a superior look in his eyes, and it wasn’t from money. It was from having something on someone. But first things first. I reply, You used my jet to fly there because you’re the only one who can cajole her into doing something. So fire up your magic. Get her checked out. If anything happens to her, I’m going to have my pilot run you over with the plane you love so much.
Then I call Jill.
“Yes, Blackwood,” she says briskly. She’s never touched a cigarette in her life, but she has a smoker’s voice, low and raspy.
“I don’t care what you’re doing out of the country. If you come back now, I’ll double—no, triple your fee.”