She continues. “Then this morning, Laura, the woman who manages the shelter, called to tell me something and I asked her about this man. She said he’s not a donor. That she’s never heard of him.”
“Who is this man? Did he give you his name?”
“Yes. He said his name was Jack Ellit.”
My temper flares, rage coursing through me. What the fuck was Jack doing at Rachel’s apartment? I knew I couldn’t trust him. I can’t trust any of them. I thought he was different, but he’s obviously not if he’s going after Rachel. He must be following me and saw me with her.
“What should I do, Pearce? Should I call the police?”
“No. If the man didn’t harm you or steal from you, the police won’t do anything. What time do you have class?”
“At ten and one, and then I have to work at the museum until five.”
“After work, I want you to go to my loft. Do you remember how to get there?”
“Yes.”
“If I’m not home, George can let you in. I’ll call him and let him know. And pack a bag because you’re staying overnight.”
“You don’t think I’m safe in my apartment? You think he’ll do something?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll check on this and take care of it.”
“I don’t understand. How would you take care of it?”
“I have a team of security experts I work with. When you have my kind of money, you have to be extremely cautious and hire excellent security. I’ll have them see what they can find out about this man. But until I know you’re safe, you’re staying with me.”
“Okay. Thank you. I really appreciate this.”
“Call me back if you need anything.”
As soon as she hangs up, I call Jack. His secretary answers.
“This is Pearce Kensington,” I tell her. “I need to speak with Mr. Ellit. It’s an emergency.”
“He’s away on business. He left for Dallas early this morning and has meetings all day. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I need a number where I can reach him.”
“I can give you his hotel number but I doubt you’ll get a hold of him. You know how he is.”
What she means is that after his meetings, Jack will spend the evening drinking with clients and get so drunk he’ll pass out in his room. He’ll never hear the phone ring.
“When he gets back, tell him he needs to call me right away. This is urgent.”
“Yes, Mr. Kensington. I’ll make sure he gets the message.”
“Thank you.”
I consider calling him on his cell phone but that’s only supposed to be used by Dunamis for official business. I’d face severe punishment if they found out I called his phone for something unrelated to the organization. And Jack doesn’t have another cell phone for personal use. He doesn’t like being able to be reached at all times. I don’t either, which is why I don’t have a personal cell phone. The last thing I need is another way for my father to be able to reach me.
If Jack’s out of town, he can’t do anything to Rachel but I still want her to stay at my loft. Until I know what he’s up to, I want her with me, where I know she’s safe.
The rest of the day I’m on edge, worried about Rachel and trying to figure out why Jack went to her place and if he plans to harm her in any way. I wonder who else besides Jack knows of my involvement with her. My father doesn’t or he would’ve said something this morning. I hope only Jack knows. That’s bad enough. I don’t want any of the other members finding out about her.
As members, we’re not supposed to date outside our social sphere, which means we’re limited to dating wealthy women from powerful families. Currently there’s no rule in place that forbids dating someone like Rachel because it’s not necessary. None of the other members have any interest in dating someone of a lower social class. They’re obsessed with image and status, and dating the right woman is part of that.
Still, Dunamis likes making rules, so just recently there was discussion to make a rule saying it’s forbidden to date women who aren’t approved by the members. But since it hasn’t been an issue thus far, the rule hasn’t been brought to a vote. So as of right now, I’m not breaking any rules being with Rachel. But if my father found out, he’d make sure the rule was put in place as soon as possible.
I call my loft at 5:30. Rachel is there but I’m not able to go home because my father scheduled a meeting at six. After the meeting, he leaves for a dinner party my mother’s making him attend. If it weren’t for that, he’d make me stay here under his watchful eye for several more hours. But since he’s gone, I’m free to go.
When I get home, I walk off the elevator and instantly smile when I see Rachel there. She’s in the kitchen making dinner. The entire room is filled with the delicious aroma of a home-cooked meal. It’s warm and welcoming and I feel myself starting to relax.
“Welcome home.” Rachel comes up to me and gives me a hug. “I made dinner. I hope that’s okay. I stopped at the store on the way over.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
I keep her in the hug a moment longer. It feels good to hold her. It calms me even more. It’s nice to come home and have someone here, especially when that someone is Rachel. I tell myself I like living alone, but truthfully, I don’t. It’s lonely and depressing. I’d much prefer to come home to this every night.
“I made baked chicken with mashed potatoes.” She kisses me. “It sounded good so that’s what I made.”
“Thank you. It smells delicious.”
“And I made my famous apple cobbler for dessert. You can go change clothes. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”
I go in my room and put on the jeans and t-shirt Rachel picked out for me when we went to the mall. I’m getting used to the jeans, but I’m not used to wearing a t-shirt outside the gym.
When I come out of the bedroom, she’s milling around my kitchen, finding the plates and silverware that I rarely use. She’s wearing jeans and a deep orange sweater, her long dark hair pulled into a ponytail. I feel a smile forming again. I didn’t smile once today at work, but then I see Rachel and it just happens.
“Everything’s ready.” She motions to the small round table just off the kitchen. I don’t think I’ve ever sat there. I’m usually at work during dinner so I order something into the office. Or if I’m not at work, I go out for dinner.
Rachel has the table set, our food already portioned out on plates. The food and how it’s arranged looks like a photo in a magazine. I didn’t realize she was such a talented cook.
“You don’t have any serving dishes so I just plated the food,” she says. “Go ahead and sit down.”
I hold her chair out for her. “You first.”
She sits down and I kiss her cheek. “Thank you again for doing this.”
“I liked doing it. It’s nice having someone to have dinner with. When Shelby’s around I eat with her, but she’s hardly ever home.”
I don’t ask where Shelby is, because I don’t want Rachel asking her questions. Shelby’s probably having a hard enough time trying to keep her secret from Rachel and everyone else. Most of the associates don’t have many friends for that very reason. They can’t risk letting something slip, because if it did, their friend would be in danger. That’s why I wish Rachel would stop being friends with Shelby. It’s too much of a risk. Being with me is a risk too, but I can keep secrets. I’m not sure Shelby can.
“What do you think?” Rachel asks.
“Everything is excellent.”
I’m not just being polite. It’s an excellent meal. The chicken is moist and flavorful and the potatoes are creamy and buttery.
“It’s nothing fancy like you’re used to, but this is the type of food I grew up eating.”
“It’s much better than what I grew up eating.”
“So did you find out anything about the man who came to my apartment?”
“No, I wasn’t able to. I was in meetings all day. But I’ll w
ork on it tomorrow. You’re planning to stay here tonight, right?”
“Yes. My bag is over there.” She points to a small suitcase near the couch.
“You didn’t bring much.”
“It’s just for one night.”
“I think you should stay tomorrow night as well. Or as long as it takes to figure this out.”
“Thank you for offering, but I can’t stay here. You have things to do and so do I.”
“If you don’t stay here, I’ll be forced to go stay at your place. I can’t leave you alone at night. It’s too dangerous.”
She smiles. “Is that the only reason you want me to stay?”
“I admit I like having you here, but my main concern right now is your safety. If it makes you more comfortable, I’ll sleep in the guest room. And you don’t have to cook for me.”
“I’ll stay, but only until you find out who that man was. This is only temporary.”
We finish dinner and Rachel serves us dessert. I don’t really like sweets so I rarely eat dessert but she went to the trouble to make it so I eat it. And I’m glad I did. Her apple cobbler is better than desserts I’ve had from five star restaurants. It was warm from the oven and she topped it with vanilla ice cream.
After dessert, she gets up and takes our dishes.
“Let me clean up,” I tell her. “It’s only fair since you made dinner.”
“We’ll do it together.” She brings the dishes to the sink and I clear the silverware and the glasses. This is another new experience for me. I’ve never cleaned up after dinner. I’ve never even made dinner so I had no need to clean up. I didn’t even know how to load the dishwasher, but Rachel showed me.
When everything’s put away, I scoop Rachel up in my arms and carry her to my bedroom.
I took her by surprise and she’s laughing. “What are you doing?”
“It’s question and answer time.” I lay her on the bed. “I want you to hurry up and get to know me.”
She’s still laughing. “And why is that?”
I lie next to her and put my lips just above hers. “You know why.” I kiss her. “How much longer do you think you need before you know me?”
“Maybe a few months?”
Months? Is she serious? My face must show my shock because her laughter continues.
“I’m kidding, Pearce. I don’t know when it’ll be, but I’ll know when the time is right.”
“Go ahead. First question.”
She fires off questions even faster than last night. She’s hurrying to get to know me. She wants to do it again just as much as I do. I’m not really sure why she insists on abstaining, given that we’ve already had sex, but I’m willing to wait as long as she needs.
I didn’t think we were moving too fast, but she thought we were. I find it unusual because I’m used to having sex on the first date. Not that I would’ve done that with Rachel. I wanted to wait longer with her. And we did. We had several dates, and on each one of them, we talked for hours. In fact, in those few dates, I talked to Rachel more than I’ve talked to any other woman I’ve dated. So when we finally had sex, I didn’t feel like we were rushing it. I didn’t think she did either, until she told me she wanted to slow things down. But I like that she’s that way. It’s refreshing to be with a woman who isn’t throwing herself at me, the way Rielle did that night at the bar. I’d known her all of five minutes before she invited me back to her place.
Rachel pauses to think of more questions, and as she does, I consider asking her some questions as well. She’s told me a lot about herself, but she always skips over her college years in Indiana. I’m wondering if it’s because of the man she was dating her senior year. The one who became her fiancé. I get the feeling there’s a story there but I’m hesitant to ask her. I’d rather wait for her to tell me.
I answer the rest of her questions, but no matter how many questions she asks, she’ll never know everything about me. Even if we were still together years from now, she could never know who I really am.
We talk for three straight hours but it seems much shorter than that. I’ve never been able to talk to someone for that long unless it was about business. And when I’m around my society friends, I try to avoid talking at all, because when I do, I have to watch my every word. Filter what I say. Make sure I’m coming across a certain way. But when I’m with Rachel, our conversation is easy and natural. I can talk without having to script my words in my head before I speak.
When I’m not talking, I like just listening to Rachel and watching her. When she tells a funny story, she smiles and laughs and moves her hands around. When she says something serious or sad, the emotion shows on her face. She doesn’t try to hide it.
The people I’m used to being around express zero emotion, or if they do express emotion, it’s fake, intended to get a reaction out of whoever they’re talking to. There’s always a motive. They can’t just have a normal conversation.
Around eleven, Rachel’s eyes are struggling to stay open. “I think I need to go to bed,” she says, yawning.
She gets in her pajamas and I get in mine, and once again, I fall asleep before midnight.
I could get used to this. Having Rachel here when I get home. Having dinner with her. Talking with her. Having her fall asleep in my arms. I never thought I could have this. And I probably can’t. But I want it. I want this life.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
18
PEARCE
The next morning, I get up at five so I don’t have to deal with my father scolding me for being late. I try to be as quiet as possible but Rachel wakes up as I’m putting my suit jacket on.
“Pearce?”
I go over to the bed and sit next to her and lean down to kiss her. “I have to go. Be careful today. And come back here after work. George will let you in.”
She sits up and gives me a hug. “Thanks again for letting me stay here.”
Her comment fills me with guilt because I’m the reason she can’t stay at her own apartment. I’m the reason she’s scared to be there. If it weren’t for me, Jack never would’ve gone to her place.
I pull back to look at her, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You can stay here as long as you’d like.”
She smiles. She’s even beautiful first thing in the morning. That’s another thing I could get used to. Waking up next to her every day.
“Any requests for dinner tonight?”
“Rachel, I told you, you don’t have to make dinner. You don’t owe me anything for staying here.”
“We still have to eat and I like to cook, so it works out.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” I stand up and take my wallet out. “I’ll leave some money in the kitchen for groceries.” I pull out three $100 bills.
She sees the money and laughs. “You’re giving me three hundred dollars for groceries? For one meal?”
“I don’t know what groceries cost. I’ve never gone shopping.”
“I’ll add that to the list of things you need to try. And just so you know, three hundred dollars would buy a lot of groceries.”
“Take it and buy whatever you’d like, then keep the rest.” I get up to leave. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I’m at the office at six sharp. My father is already there. He sees me in the hall and nods but says nothing. Not even a hello. That’s his usual greeting. A nod.
At noon, I’m finally able to reach Jack.
“Hello, Pearce. My secretary said you wanted to speak with me.”
“Yes. Right away.” I’m trying to stay calm and not come out and accuse him of anything. That would get me nowhere. I need him to talk, and he won’t do so if I make him angry. “Are you available now? I’ll meet you at your office.”
“No. Not the office. Meet me at my house in twenty minutes.”
I agree to it, but find it odd he wants to meet at his house and not the office.
When I get to his mansion, he greets me at the door. “Follow me.”
He takes me to
a hallway that leads to the back of the house. He stops next to a painting on the wall and stares at it intently.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
I hear a popping sound and see an opening in the wall. It’s a hidden door, which many of the members have in their houses, but I’ve never seen one open like that. The painting must have a retinal scanner in it. It only opens with Jack’s eyes so is more secure than a panel that uses a security code.
The door opens to a room with a bar and a poker table.
He goes to the bar and gets a drink. “Have a seat. You want a drink?”
“No.” I sit at the table.
“My wife doesn’t like it when I host poker games. She thinks us men get too loud, so I built this room. The walls are soundproofed.”
It’s a lie. If he wanted to play poker in the regular part of the house, he’d do it. He wouldn’t let his wife stop him. Besides, this house is at least 20,000 square feet. He could host a rowdy poker game without her ever hearing a sound.
I know what this room is. It’s a safe room, meant to protect him if anyone comes to his house to attack him. There’s a silver door behind him which I’m guessing hides a stash of guns and ammunition.
I get right down to business. “Why did you do it?”
He doesn’t look confused or surprised. He knows exactly what I’m talking about. “Because I’m your mentor. I’m responsible for you. It’s my job to know what you’re up to.”
“I’m not up to anything. And my friendship with her is none of your business.”
“Is that what it is? A friendship? Because most of my female friends don’t spend the night.” He swigs his drink.
“Okay, yes, I’m seeing her. But it’s not against the rules. I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“They’re making it a rule. You know that. You were at the meeting when it was discussed.”
“Yes, but it hasn’t gone up for a vote.”
He sighs. “Pearce, I know how easy it is to fall for a beautiful woman. When it happens, you don’t think straight. You make bad decisions. You do things you—”
Needing Her Page 20