Chapter 17
Elaine set us to work organizing a seating chart over the next few days, which wasn’t finished by the time she handed us a catalog of decorations to order.
I was in charge of décor. Just me. She gave me no guidance, only the theme, and told me to “run with it.” I had artistic freedom. What did she even mean?
It had Nash and Autumn written all over it. “Oh, Even is artistic. She’s super creative, she’s so great at decorating. Did you see the photos from this party she planned this one time?”
Nash was always down to give me projects I didn’t ask for. Like the painting he had me do for the office. I hated that thing.
Yes, I’m creative. Yes, I’m artistic. Yes, I picked out decorations for one party this one time. But that was a birthday party. Not a summer gala, which brought in thousands of dollars for charity and even more in revenue from the friendly negotiation that went on during the gathering.
Maybe I didn’t know everything about the stupid company, but I new damn well Nash made deals on gala nights. All of them did. Post Christmas, Seattle was always booming in business. New year, new networking, or however the saying goes.
“Are you alright, Even?” Rory asked.
I’d begun angrily flipping through the pages. All this stuff was so cheap, plastic, and disposable. I thought Nash was big on green and recyclable. I sighed.
“Yes,” I huffed. “No, there’s no way we can use any of this stuff.”
I stood up and went to find Elaine. I had to evade Madam Caron to get there, which was becoming less of an issue, as she normally got distracted by Rory.
Elaine was hunched over the seating chart Rory and I hadn’t gotten to finish, arranging a new set of labels we hadn’t even had.
“What did you find?” she asked cheerily.
“I really don’t think we should use any of this stuff.” I sighed, and she looked like a might have slapped her. “What I mean is… McCoy Enterprises started the green initiative last year, so it wouldn’t be right to have a bunch of disposable decorations. Do you think there’s a theatre in town that would let us borrow props? Or maybe we could use the general décor of the venue to our advantage?”
“We’re in the venue.” She sighed. “I don’t know what the Seattle branch budget is, Even, but ours isn’t that grand, I’m afraid.”
I nodded. “Think you could show me the plan, then?”
After Elaine and I finished tossing ideas around while standing in the largest conference room I’d ever seen, it was nearly time to head home. I hadn’t seen Rory since Madam Caron had started chatting her up. We really hadn’t talked much that day.
It was reassuring to find her beaming at me when she met me in the lobby.
“Ready to go?” she asked, handing me my jacket.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Thank you.”
“Did you and Elaine figure out the decorations?”
“I think so. It’ll be a process to actually figure out where we are getting them, but it’ll look good in the end. What about you? How was your day?”
“I learned to use the copy machine.” She grinned like kids do when they’ve learned some cool new trick.
“Oh yeah?” I laughed.
“Yeah, I jammed it.”
When we got home, Rory and I sat down for dinner. I was becoming too used to this. I was too used to her presence. I was too used to the way she talked and laughed, the sound of her voice, just the feel of her near me. I’d been alone for a long time. Having Rory around felt so peaceful, it was foreboding.
“Are you alright, Even?” Rory asked as I was cleaning the dishes.
“Yeah, I’m just… tired.” I swallowed hard. I hated lying.
“Maybe you should rest.”
She reached up, brushing the hair from my face in that same soft, tender way she’d done before. Her hand met mine on the counter. She was inched closer. Her hand hadn’t left the side of my face.
“Maybe.” I swallowed hard.
Dammit, why was this girl so intoxicating?
The sound of the key turning in the lock had the two of us apart so quickly it was sickening. Autumn walked in the door, Henry in tow, with armfuls of grocery bags each. Both Rory and I had to scurry out of the way in the tiny kitchen.
She looked between me and Rory with this judgy look. She knew I hadn’t told Nash about Rory. She knew I’d just let him leave town unaware. Maybe I should have told him. He could have simmered on the plane. But I was angry, and I knew it was childish, but I didn’t care.
“Even,” Autumn sighed as Henry headed back out the door. “Could I talk with you for a moment?”
Without a word, Rory slipped out of the room, leaving me alone with Autumn.
“You realize you’re playing a dangerous game, right?” Autumn sighed. “Do you even know where she came from? Do you know she didn’t lie to you about—”
“Yeah, I do.” I groaned. But I can’t tell you the truth, so…
She sighed, calming herself. She was so much like my mother sometimes. Maybe her and Nash would work out after all.
“Even, you’ve got to tell Nash.”
“Nash isn’t even here, Autumn! He left me in another country.”
“He has work to do.”
I clinched my jaw. I was going to say bad words.
“He’s trying to do what’s best for you. You should be a little more appreciative. Don’t you understand he’s trying to help you? And protect you—”
“He’s avoiding me, like he’s always avoided me. He puts the company over me, and I’m an after-thought. I have to get in trouble for him to even sleep at home. If I don’t get arrested, I don’t see him for weeks, Autumn! You see him every day. I see him six times a year if I behave. And I’m supposed to be appreciative that he left me in another country?”
“Even, you need to be careful—”
“No, fuck you, Autumn.” Oops, I said bad words. “You don’t get to tell me I should be more appreciative. You don’t get to tell me what to do at all, actually. You aren’t my mom, okay? Nash is my guardian. He should be here. He should be the one who noticed I lied. He’s the one who should be talking to my teachers and checking up on me. Nash is the one who should be talking to my therapist. Not you. I’m pretty sure it’s basically a violation of HIPAA or something.”
“Are you done?” She raised an eyebrow. I didn’t answer. “If you don’t tell Nash about Rory, I will.”
“Tell Nash about Rory, go ahead,” I growled, crossing my arms like a child, but I didn’t give a damn. “You think it’ll help things? Because it won’t, and I’ll never trust you again. You know as well as I do, Nash hates the messenger when it comes to bad news. And I know for damn sure you’re trying to keep yourself on his extra good side.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t think I don’t see the way you look at him. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’re calling him Nash instead of Mr. McCoy. I see you Autumn, I freaking see you.”
“Whatever you think is going on between me and your uncle is strictly between me and your uncle,” she huffed. “We are adults. We make our own decisions.”
I scoffed. I couldn’t argue with that. She was going to just rub this “ten months from eighteen” shit in my face.
“Like it or not, Nash is still responsible for you,” she said, calm again. “And if you want what’s best for her? You need to tell him the truth, Even. Sooner rather than later.”
She grabbed her purse off the counter. “Some of those groceries are cold. You might want to put them away.” Then she stormed out, slamming the door shut behind her.
Before I could even stop myself, there were tears streaming down my face followed by deep, painful sobs. I wanted to curl on the floor.
Rory rushed into the room, and her arms were around me so quickly I couldn’t think to tell her no. I couldn’t wipe my face and pretend I was fine. I’d just have to settle for letting her see the ugly side of me.
I couldn’t decide if that was okay.
Rory had been in bed for a while. After I’d stopped crying, I’d asked for some space. I needed it. To think, to breathe, to just… be. I was about to put away my sketchbook when I accidentally kicked my guitar. I grabbed the strings as quickly as I could, but it was still loud as hell.
I waited. I didn’t hear anything, so I started putting things away, then I heard a knock at the door.
Rory poked her head in. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “I just bumped my guitar. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t. I cannot sleep.”
I sighed, biting my lip. “You want to talk about it?”
She shook her head, rocking on her heels.
“You can stay in here if you want.” I smiled, gathering up the rest of my things off my bed. “All you had to do was ask.”
Her cheeks flushed a bright red, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she helped me with my stuff and climbed into the bed. I flipped off the bedside lamp, and flopped down. She curled into my arms and let out a long sigh.
“Better?” I asked.
She nodded. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay… I think.”
“She was hard.”
I felt myself frown. “Harsh?”
“Yes.” She giggled.
“She was right about some things, though.” I sighed. “I do need to tell Nash about you… I’m just not sure what to tell him at this point.”
“And you cannot tell him the truth?”
“The truth? That I woke up a 15th century princess?”
Rory laughed. “I suppose not. Do you think he will help me?”
There was pleading in her voice, along with a hint of fear.
“Yeah, I really do.” I let out a shaky breath. “As much as I hate to admit it sometimes, Nash is actually a pretty good guy.”
“And you will help me, too?”
“Of course, I will.”
“Do you believe in true love?” she asked all of a sudden.
“I—” I let out a breath. “I didn’t used to, but yeah, I guess. What about you?”
“I have to believe it. Without it… without it I would not be here with you.”
Her grip on my waist got tighter, and she tangled her legs with mine. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she put her head on my chest, just under my chin.
She fell asleep rather quickly after that. I stayed awake, listening to her breathe. It was calming… soothing.
I was thinking about what she’d said about true love. A part of me hoped I could be. I shouldn’t have been letting myself feel that way. I was getting attached, and I knew it was dangerous.
Then her breathing got a little quicker. Her body started twitching, mostly her hands, and she started mumbling. It was just incomprehensible at first. And then she said “non” once or twice.
No, and please.
I was going to let her sleep, wait the dream out. Sometimes waking from the dream before letting it end was worse. I knew that all too well.
But once she started crying in her sleep, I knew something was wrong.
“Pere.” she said. The word for father. “Pere, please.”
“Hey,” I whispered, “Rory, wake up. It’s just a dream.”
She took a deep breath and blinked up at me.
“Catherine,” she whispered, and before I could stop her, she pulled my face to hers, pressing her lips to mine.
I breathed in, feeling my heart begin to pound. I was torn as my body told me one thing and my brain another. My initial reaction was to pull her closer, because even though I knew it was wrong, it felt right. Her lips moved against mine in a way that was strikingly familiar. It wasn’t technically our first kiss, but somehow, this felt like it could have been our thousandth.
I pulled away, partly because she was dazed enough to think she was kissing someone else, and I knew it was wrong to take advantage of that. But I also pulled away because kissing her made me feel things I absolutely could not feel.
She looked up at me, her face caressed by the moonlight, or maybe it was streetlights. I couldn’t be sure. Her eyes went from that knowing gaze to the same frown she’d developed in the tower. She was out of the bed before I could move.
“Rory, wait,” I whispered, grabbing onto her wrist before she could reach the door. “Please?”
I took a shaky breath. I knew better than to stand, my legs would probably give out. Whoever Catherine was, Rory had loved her more deeply than I’d loved anyone in my entire life. I didn’t know if I was capable of love like that. I didn’t think she could take being broken-hearted twice. But, something about her made me want to try.
She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t pull away, either.
“Who was Catherine?” I asked. I knew it was probably the wrong question. The only question I could ask to make her pull away and shut me out. I couldn’t stop myself from asking anyway.
“You look like her,” she whispered, looking back at me for a second. There were tears falling down her face again.
I stood and pulled her into my arms.
“You even feel like her,” she spoke into my shoulder. Then she was sobbing.
“But I’m not her…” I swallowed hard. I’m not her, and I never will be.
So much for fairytales and true love.
“No.” She shook her head, looking up. “But you’re here.”
I nodded, and she kissed me again, sending a wave of energy coursing through my body. It wasn’t gentle or soft; it was passionate—hungry. Maybe I shouldn’t have, hell I knew I shouldn’t have, but I kissed her back. I took in as much of her as I could while it lasted.
Suddenly, she was inching our bodies back toward the bed, and I felt my heart begin to pound furiously against my eardrums. Her hands were on my waist, my bare waist, as I stumbled against the bed, sitting down. She didn’t let a single inch make its way between us as she climbed on top of me.
I could feel our breath growing heavier. My hands found her waist just as her hands started sliding down. A quick breath escaped my lips, and I pulled away.
“Wait,” I breathed, grabbing her hand that had just barely slipped beneath the elastic of my pajama shorts.
I let out another shaky breath.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ears.
“I, um.” I breathed. Fuck, it was hot in here. “I just… I don’t know if now is the best time—”
“Even?” Shit, please don’t say my name like that. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I just… um.” Why was my breath so shaky?
She reached up and pushed a strand of hair out of my face. It was so soft and tender. I didn’t think anyone but my mom had ever been that gentle with me. The touch pulled my focus back to her. “It’s okay.”
I bit my lip. How did she end up being more experienced than me?
“You’ve never done this before, have you?” She asked.
I shook my head.
She nodded slowly. “It can wait.”
She kissed me again, but it was different. It was soft and sweet, and when she pulled away, she pressed her forehead to mine. It was the most intimate I’d ever been with someone, and something told me it was unlikely I’d ever feel something quite like this again.
Chapter 18
Of all the things I thought I, an English-speaking high-schooler, with a poor ability to understand French, would do while in France, seeing a movie was not one of them. Just like movies in the US are in English, movies in France are in French.
They aren’t slowed down or dumbed down for English-speaking people. There are no captions in English for me to read. They aren’t made easy for any reason. Why would they be?
But while watching TV earlier in the week, Rory had seen a preview for a movie that was out in the theater, and how could I tell her no?
So, we got tickets, grabbed some snacks, and sat as far to the
back as we could get on a Friday night. Before sitting down, I hadn’t thought about how awkward this would be. We hadn’t really discussed the kiss, or what had almost followed, and we hadn’t really touched again since.
As the lights grew dim, and the movie began, I found my hand inching toward hers. I knew better. She’d only kissed me because of the dream. The dream about Catherine. Not the dream about me. I wasn’t what she wanted. Yet a part of me, the part that just ached to be shattered to pieces, hoped I could be.
My hand inched closer and closer until my fingertips brushed hers, and I just left it there, waiting for her to respond. I knew what no response would mean. If she didn’t respond, it was likely she didn’t want to hold my hand, and therefore wasn’t interested in me as me. Which was fine, I could handle rejection, but I’d rather get it out of the way now before I grew more attached to her.
She gave me far too much hope though, lacing her fingers in mine without a second thought. I felt my heartrate soar. I knew I was done for when she leaned her head against my shoulder. Yep. I was screwed.
It was worse because we stayed that way the rest of the movie. Her hand in mine, her head on my shoulder, her other hand wrapped all the way around my upper arm like it was a pillow. I hadn’t been on many dates, so it wasn’t like I had much to base it on, but this definitely felt like a date.
Especially when on screen, French or no French, these two were in love. Or lust. I couldn’t be sure. There was a lot of kissing and other things going on, but I couldn’t really understand everything else in the plot. I just knew they’d gone from strangers to something much more.
People didn’t see movies like that with just anyone, right?
The credits finally rolled after a rather dramatic happily ever after that put a knot in my throat. I’d never have anything like that. I’d never get to call someone mine forever. Everything is temporary.
“You ready to go?” I asked, struggling to look down at Rory, as people around us began filing out.
She shook her head slightly, still clinging to my upper arm. But she didn’t say anything, so I just waited. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for, but if she needed me to wait, then I would.
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