A second knock came along with her distinctive voice. “Ms. Atwood.”
No, no! I shuddered at the sound. Why was Mrs. Hawthorn here? She’d never been to my room since I’d moved into the house. The woman loved to terrorize with that wretched intercom, which worked in my favor with Javier. I never had to worry about impromptu visits—like now!
Grabbing the bottle and wine glasses, I set the items on the floor on the other side of the bed—hopefully out of view. I pulled the dark-blue matching robe from my dresser and rushed to the door. I took a deep breath and pulled it open.
“Did you need something, Mrs. Hawthorn?” I gave her a solid smile of confidence even though my heart beat loud enough to be heard out into the shadows of the open hallway.
She studied me for a moment. Lips pressed firmly together. Her eyes sharp like two blue diamonds cutting through the glass as she invited herself into the room. “What is on your face?”
I swallowed hard as she moved a few steps closer—and I took a few steps back toward the bed. “I used a tube of cream on the rash. Something the doctor gave me. I think it’s already working. I should be better for tomorrow.”
Her head tilted to the side, causing her white hair to fall across her forehead. “Why do you seem nervous, Ms. Atwood? Am I disturbing you? Keeping you from reading one of my library books? Don’t think I haven’t noticed them missing.”
“Yes, I was reading. I’m so sorry. I should have asked permission.”
“Well, at least you’re broadening your limited education. Just don’t touch the copy of Oliver Twist. That book is off limits.”
I nodded. “Yes. I will leave that one alone.”
I wasn’t sure what made that particular copy more important than the others. But I wasn’t about to start asking inquisitive questions tonight while Javier hid in my bathroom.
“Well, I didn’t come all the way down here to waste time chitchatting like school girls.” Mrs. Hawthorn handed me a bag. “I’ve brought you a solution for tomorrow.”
What had this crazy woman done now? Couldn’t she just leave me the hell alone? Not that she would ever consider any of this mess to be her fault.
I took the canvas bag from her hand. “Thank you. That was . . . very thoughtful.”
She stared at me with that twisted hawk-like gaze. I felt the slivers of panic again in my stomach. “Are you not going to open it?”
“Yes. Of course.” I pulled out a pair of long gloves and a matching hat with an attached veil, which resembled something a person in mourning might have worn fifty years ago—except this outfit came in pale yellow instead of black.
I didn’t know what to say to my boss. I was speechless. Literally. Completely. Speechless.
“I found those amongst my things. There’s a shawl in the bag too. I believe it should match your dress tomorrow and hide your transgressions.”
“My . . .” Transgressions! I choked on the thought. An actual cough tickled my throat as my mind flashed red and violent.
I’m going to kill her!
I gripped the ridiculous hat in my hand. Not only would I be cursed with this damn rash, but she also wanted me covered up as if it’s the dead of winter while the sun blazed like an inferno. I would itch. The heat would ignite the fire on my skin while I looked ridiculous.
Visions of shoving that hat up her ass flashed through my mind. And then I would shove that veil down her esophagus. But I took a deep breath instead and let a tactful, fake smile replace the homicidal thoughts.
“My, what a pretty hat. It should match my dress perfectly. So should the shawl. And the gloves.” I gritted my teeth, keeping my lips steady in a polite grin.
She beamed with satisfaction. “Very good. I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, and be careful with the cream. It might stain the sheets.”
“Yes.” My nostrils flared briefly. “I will be very careful.”
She disappeared into the hallway and I shut the door quickly behind her, turning the lock with a solid click. Javier stepped out of the bathroom. His eyes livid in anger. “Sarina, it took everything in me not to interfere.”
“Thank you. But if she saw you here, everything would have been much worse.” I looked at the hat again before placing it on my head. “Much worse than some veil of shame.”
“I’m sorry my grandmother is so insensitive.”
I peered at him from behind the long mesh that covered my face. “What? You don’t agree that I should be covered with a tarp because of my transgressions?”
“No,” he whispered.
His hands grabbed my waist, sliding down over my hips. Javier kissed me despite the veil, his lips grinding against the opaque fabric that separated us. It wasn’t deep. And no tongues could possibly be involved, but that didn’t stop the kiss from being sensual and full of passion. It didn’t stop my body from responding. And the frustrated moan in his throat. He wanted more despite the poison oak.
“How do you still want me when I look like this?” I whispered.
“You’re always beautiful, Sarina. And your heart’s beautiful too.”
Javier lifted the veil and kissed me again. Our mouths moved together. My body curved against his chest as my arms went around his neck and I fell into the calm surrender of his touch. He felt so good. I couldn’t help myself. I kissed him hard. My tongue sliding against his bottom lip. Hands touching. The desire for him moving to a sensual ache. I wanted him and he pressed against my stomach with the same need. We could be careful. Slow. Leave our clothes on while only removing the necessities. I could make him feel good. He could make this wretched day so much better.
Javier lifted me up. My legs wrapped around his waist. But then I winced as his fingers dug into my skin, bringing both pleasure and pain. He sat me carefully back on the floor. I sighed in frustration. “Stupid poison oak.”
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I would make love to you right now. I don’t care if you give it to me. But I don’t want to hurt you. So I’m going to let you go before I do.”
“I don’t want you to stop.”
“No, but I should.” Javier kissed the tip of my nose before releasing me. “Get back in bed. I will stay until you fall asleep.”
“Okay.” I let out a shallow breath and removed the ugly hat, putting the unfortunate yellow catastrophe on my dresser. I didn’t want to accidentally mess up tomorrow’s outfit.
Retrieving the bottle of wine from the floor, I poured the remaining red in our glasses. I crawled under the covers of my bed while Javier sat back down in the tapestry chair by the windows. We faced each other once again. He took a sip from his glass, eyeing me from the short distance that separated us.
I frowned. “You feel so far away.”
“I know. You always feel far away when I’m upstairs and not here. But tonight you still feel close even when we don’t touch.”
I lay against the pillows, tired and exasperated, wishing for some better solution to our impossible situation. “I wish . . .” But I stopped my thoughts. I didn’t need to be wishing for anything with him.
“I know, hermosa. I wish there was an easier way for us to be together in this house. I hate that you can’t come to my room. But it’s too risky. You would be in the same hallway as my grandmother.”
“Uh, no.” I shuttered at the thought, wishing for another way to reach him. “Wait. Aren’t creepy old houses supposed to have secret passageways buried in the walls? Find one of those, and problem solved.”
He grinned. “Like a secret door behind your mirror? I could be like the Phantom of the Opera and come to you in the middle of the night. Carry you away to my bed.”
“Exactly.” I laughed. “That would be nice.”
He sipped his wine, staring off into the distance for a moment. “There’s no secret wall passages in this house, but it does have an old tunnel in the basement wine cellar.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, it’s very real. My great-grandfather had the tunnel put in. My f
ather told me about it. He would play with my aunt and uncle inside. They would dare each other to see who could stay the longest in the dark with the door shut. My grandmother caught them one day. And then proceeded to lock them inside as punishment.”
The thought sent a shiver down my spine. “She locked them in the dark in some cellar tunnel? That’s crazy. Even for her. How long did she leave them inside?”
“Long enough for all of her children to despise her. But they respected her cruel lesson and never opened the door again.” He frowned. “I asked my grandmother about it once. She said my father tells lies about her. He makes up stories. Makes him feel better about leaving.”
“Who do you believe?”
“Who do you think?”
I shook my head, thinking of her mind games. “She’s one infuriating and fascinating person.”
“Sí.” His answer came with an exasperated sigh. The acceptance of a hopeless relationship and acknowledgment that she would never change.
I felt sorry for Javier in that moment. I had wonderful grandparents while his American namesake straddled the line of sophistication and sociopath. Being rich didn’t automatically guarantee happiness, and charitable donations didn’t make a person less cruel. Delsey Hawthorn could build an entire cardiac wing of a hospital, and yet sometimes she lacked a beating heart within her chest.
I took another sip of wine. He eyed me from his seat. Relaxed. Comfortable. I smiled at him, enjoying the silence. Wishing for more but okay with this too. We couldn’t touch, yet the closeness felt strong.
His lips softened with a grin. Almost seductive yet wistful. Like someone who knew a secret he wanted to share.
“What?” I laughed.
“I was just thinking. You wished for an easier way for us to be together without the worry of my grandmother. I know a way. I will take you on a date, Sarina.”
“A date?” My eyebrows went up in surprise. “Javier, I wasn’t . . .” I shook my head. “I told you. I’m a grown woman. You don’t have to worry about my expectations. I know what this is. Easy. Casual. Dates are . . . not part of that plan.”
Maybe it did sound pathetic when I heard the words out loud. But I needed to hear them. I needed to be reminded. The last few weeks had taken a toll on my thoughts. My emotions. But Javier had already laid the rules out to me. He didn’t get involved with people where he lived. I was an exception. But that didn’t make things not casual between us. Nothing changed the fact that he would be leaving, which complicated things.
I saw the thoughts shifting across his face. “My mother would be ashamed of how I’ve behaved, sneaking around in the dark. And she would be right. You’re smart and beautiful. And you deserve more than to be hidden away. You deserve more than just sex.”
“I don’t know. Sex with you is pretty good.” A smile curved on my lips as I teased him.
“Muy bueno.” He winked. “But we should leave this place. Leave this room.”
The idea sounded nice and I imagined us being outside the walls of this house. I was wearing my new pink dress. We were laughing and eating as he held my hand on top of the table. But my sunshine dreams came to a complete halt. “What if someone sees us?”
“My grandmother doesn’t have eyes in every restaurant in this city.”
“I guess that’s true,” I whispered.
“This week after the garden party. Have dinner with me. Please?”
The sincerity in that last word pushed me over the edge. I nodded wistfully in agreement. “Okay. I’ll have dinner with you, Javier.”
I knew it wasn’t the best idea. But in our remaining time together, I wanted to go on dates with this man. I wanted to spend time with him. Even if I knew how this story ended. Javier would return back to Colombia in a few months.
And I would remain here.
Present Day
BLUE PARKED HIMSELF IN FRONT of Delsey Hawthorn. The woman sneered at the man despite his earlier rant about “who holds the power right now.” I think she still believed this was her ballroom.
Next to her, the old butler seemed to be conscious again. His head leaned on the shoulder of his wife, the housekeeper. They were too old for this. Not that the rest of us could handle being tied up and held at gunpoint. But those two were not equipped for an incident this traumatic. Their hearts alone could fail.
I closed my eyes for a moment, praying silently. For them. For us. Only divine intervention would make a difference at this point. I thought about my granddaddy. I yearned for his solid, deep voice that lifted up to the sky, giving thanks and asking for mercy. God listened to him more than other people. He always said it wasn’t true. But I believed otherwise.
I’d do anything right now just to hear his comforting voice.
Feeling a presence, I opened my eyes to find the man in the gray mask standing directly in front of me. Hollow Eyes stood next to him with a black handgun in his right glove. He popped his neck like he was getting ready for something big, something physical. On the end, Camo Man held his gun like a sniper on a hill. Any false move, and he would hit his mark.
“Soooo . . . let’s get down to business.” Blue flashed a grin. His eyes grew wild with a hint of pleasure. “It’s come to my attention that some wrongs need to be righted. And you”—he tapped Delsey Hawthorn on the chest with the tip of his gun—“are going to cooperate. That’s not a request. It’s a fact. No more fuckin’ games. I’m in charge. I make the rules. And you will do as I say.”
Summer
ON THE DAY OF THE garden party, Mrs. Hawthorn placed a secretive call before sunrise. I didn’t know to whom she spoke in hushed whispers and maybe it was best I remained oblivious to the details. But all the protesters and their menacing signs mysteriously disappeared. Afterward, she gave Elmore the order to keep the entrance gates open wide.
Half past nine, the guests began their grand arrival, pulling into the circle driveway. Those without drivers handed over their keys to the complimentary valet service, which relocated the vehicles away from the front of the house. One by one, the ladies walked through the side entrance and under the hand-carved trellis—minus the poison oak vines, which had been removed by me yesterday while wearing long sleeves, gloves, and anger.
The women took their seats at the designated place cards. Scarlett carried around a beautiful silver tray with crystal glasses, filled with orange juice and expensive champagne. In the kitchen, Josie plated the first course. The hired servers were just a few years older than me and daughters of Brenda’s friend from church. Scarlett took classes at the community college in accounting. Josie had two children and worked part-time for an actual catering company.
I checked on the podium and microphone, making sure everything was ready to go. The sound system on the patio played Mrs. Hawthorn’s favorite cantata by Bach. She pranced around the way a peacock did on a farm, pretending to be more beautiful than all the other patrons. Her bright blue hat hung low in the back and tilted high in the front with a tuft of flowers on the brim. She and the other attendees were dressed more for the Kentucky Derby instead of a simple brunch on someone’s patio. But who was I kidding? Nothing about this party had ever been simple.
Taking my place again in the back corner by the bushes, I watched everyone from under my veil and yellow shawl. I was more wrapped up than a beekeeper. Sweat accumulated under my gloves and around my neck until wet streaks ran down my back under the floral print dress. None of the other ladies seemed to mind the heat. Their voices carried across the patio as they chatted while their lavish jewels reflected in the blinding sun.
“Ms. Atwood, I need my notes.” Mrs. Hawthorn rushed in my direction. “You must retrieve them from the study. And be prompt. We’re already behind schedule.”
I gave a brief nod. It was one minute past ten and a few empty seats still remained at the tables. Josie and Brenda were just now bringing out the trays with the first course of petite quiches and Waldorf salad, which would be followed by pecan-crusted salmon on a bed of
warm spinach, and then a fruit torte served for dessert.
Walking quickly through the house to the study, I grabbed the simple typed speech from her desk. I’d prepared these pages days ago, only to reprint the content five more times with her dictated changes. This was the final. And I’d listened to her practice the address twice yesterday from the actual podium.
Returning outside, I handed over the notes and resumed my post at the back corner of the patio. She preferred me to stay out of sight as much as possible today. I honestly didn’t even feel like fighting back on the matter.
I was miserable.
Most of my thoughts centered on ways I could scratch without being seen. But the rash was a little better this morning. The red spots had faded slightly and the swelling had diminished around my eyes. But the itch had returned something furious when the heat kicked up outside. A dip in the forbidden pool sounded nice right now.
The actual pool.
But the presence of Javier would be nice too. We had a plan for this week. A date. I would drive outside the gates in my car like a normal visit to see my family. Javier wanted me to meet him at a little restaurant on the south side of town. He said the food there reminded him of home. The plan sounded perfect, but I still worried about us being seen in public. But it didn’t damper my excitement. I wanted to go on a real date with him. To be outside this house like a real couple.
I tried to stop myself from getting carried away with the idea. But after he’d said those words last night, the idea had grown inside my head and a little bit deeper in my chest. Why couldn’t we be more? Javier had never made me feel like less. He did the complete opposite. The man made me see possibilities. About myself. About my future. And about him.
“Good morning.” Mrs. Hawthorn stood behind the podium. The congregation of ladies stopped speaking mid-sentence and snuffed their voices as she began her speech. Delsey’s words drifted in sharp waves over the crowd.
As I listened, my hand reached for one of the mimosa glasses, but those blue eyes shot in my direction, slapping my hand with her stare. I reluctantly placed the glass back on the tray. Apparently, I wasn’t allowed to partake in the beverages served at the party.
The Hawks_A Novel Page 14