by Julie Reece
Seated between a much-improved Maggie and our benefactor, I squirm and squeal and fangirl until Gideon bursts out laughing and Maggie threatens to bodily remove me. The show ends to the crowd rising in a standing O. How awesome to have people react like that to what you create. My dream is to experience that. Maybe one day.
After the show, we’re escorted into a posh reception room. Tables are covered with white bone china and crystal. The menu lists an appetizer of jumbo shrimp, displayed over ice with cocktail sauce and lemon. Asian glazed Chilean sea bass, farfalle pasta with baby spinach, sun-dried tomatoes, and garlic serve as the main fare. As delicious as it looks, I’m too keyed up to eat a bite.
Attendees mill around the room in groups. Executives network, models flirt, and waiters rush around with heavy trays. Maggie and I try not to gawk and look as intimidated as we feel. A pretty brunette ignores us completely as she grabs Gideon by the arm with a ‘Hey baby’ and drags him across the room. I’d like to object, but on what basis? We’re business associates, here to work.
He stands talking with a crowd of impeccably dressed people. I’m amazed how relaxed he appears for someone so young. Then I remember he’s been exposed, even groomed for his position in this world his entire life.
A waiter passes carrying a large tray of drinks. Maggie snags a flute of champagne. I shake my head as she offers one to me. “Delicious,” she chirps. “Where are the strawberries?”
I don’t know. I can’t take my eyes off the scene before me.
The brunette drapes her arm over Gideon’s. I recognize her as one of Ashley Mackee’s runway models from the show. She might be six feet tall, but she can’t be more than eighteen. Her tinkling laughter bubbles up, grating on my nerves as she rubs herself against Gideon like a cat in heat.
My palms are sweaty, and my feet are cold. Maggie’s saying something, but I hardly hear her over the blood pounding in my ears. I hope I’m not coming down with her stomach bug.
“Raven,” Maggie says. “Try one of these shrimps. They’re fantastic. I swear I’m going to gain five pounds on this trip.”
“Hello, ladies.” Maggie’s eyes light up as we face the guy addressing us. He’s young, early twenty-something with light brown hair and amber eyes. He strikes me as someone who just stepped out of a movie trailer. “I’m Stephen.” I’m not great with accents, but I think he’s Italian. “You are here for a model?”
I sneak a quick glance at Gideon. My stomach churns as the brunette brushes her hand down his arm. His smile proves he doesn’t mind. Why should he, she’s gorgeous.
Maggie giggles, fluttering her false eyelashes at the swarthy-skinned guy before us. “We could be.”
“I think he’s asking us if we’re models. Not if we came for one.” Though I answer Maggie, my gaze fixes on the stranger. “I also think Stephen is being a flirt, as neither of us are the model type.”
The smile he flashes is toothpaste commercial material. “Ah, and what is model type, please?” He leans in so close I take a step back.
“Pretty, vain, shallow, you know how they are.” I’m smiling too, having a little fun at his expense.
Stephen throws his head back and laughs. His hand covers his heart. “Siren. You hurt me already, uh … your name is, please?”
“Raven.”
Another step closer. “Sei molto bella!” He stoops, taking my hand in his. I can’t keep the heat from my cheeks as he lifts my fingers and drops a kiss on my knuckles. He doesn’t hurry.
“Maybe I should just leave,” Maggie jokes. She taps her bottom lip, perusing the hors d’oeuvres on the table nearby. “Or you two should get a room …”
I’m about to elbow her in the gut when Stephen wraps his arm around my waist and tugs me against him. Champagne flavors his breath. His nose grazes my cheek. Personal space alert. My elbow redirects itself toward Stephen’s rib cage when we’re jostled from behind.
“Stephen, salve. How are you?” Gideon interposes himself between the guy I’m getting to know and me, breaking our contact.
“Mad Dog, you are timed to save me. Raven and her friend are da solo. We should welcome them properly, you and I, eh?”
Mad Dog?
“Actually, they are with me.” Gideon’s tone is deliberate. He pins Stephen with a cold stare and his warning is clear. Hands off. I shiver, and rub my shoulder against the chill. Gideon’s hand slides down my arm, stopping at my wrist. When I try to pull away, he holds me tighter.
My hackles go up. The idea he might feel responsible for us is swallowed up by his presumption. I can handle party-guy interested in some harmless banter. I’m caught up in the day, the glamour. Stephen made me feel a part of this world, pretty, glamorous—for a minute. Of course, when the female equivalent mauls Gideon it’s perfectly fine. Ugh! Hypocrite.
Gideon releases my wrist and stands feet apart. Both hands rest quietly on the head of his cane, yet there is nothing relaxed about the tense lines of his body. His broad back momentarily blocks my view.
Stephen clears his throat. “My apologies, I did not—”
“No, you did not.” Gideon’s shoulders align. His smile is tight as he tilts his head toward a gathering of people nearby. “I understand Mae is here. Have you seen her yet?”
“Ass,” Stephen says.
That word I know.
Stephen glances at me once more. A sheepish grin spreads his lips. “Che vergogna.” With a last nod, he saunters off and disappears into the crowd.
Gideon whirls on me. His fingers press my arm. “Stay here,” he orders. “We’re leaving, but I need to thank our hosts first. I’ll only be a moment.” His fingers trail down my sleeve before he retreats.
“Wow,” Maggie says, popping a shrimp between her plump lips. She chases her food with more champagne. “That was telling …”
“What, jerk boy?”
“Which one?”
The tension in my neck eases with my laugh. “Gideon’s ridiculous.”
“Is he?”
“Yeah. Wait, which one did you mean?”
“I mean I’ve been watching the two of you all afternoon. I see you, Rae. Undressing him with your eyes when you think no one’s paying attention. Your claws were showing when that skanky model was all over him.” I open my mouth, but she points her finger, effectively shushing me. “Don’t even say it. Your reaction was that of a very pissed off girlfriend who caught her man getting too friendly with another chick.”
Pissed Off Girl! Me? Oh, no. “No. No and no. It’s not like that.”
“Sometimes you can be so blind, Rae.” She downs the last of her champagne.
“Me blind? What about you!”
“What does that mean?”
Shut up, Raven. I almost spilled about Dane, and I cannot go there. “Nothing, you just don’t see everything either. Gideon and I loathe each other. We will never be more than civil enemies.”
“Sure, hon, keep telling yourself that.” Maggie calmly shoves another shrimp in her mouth and then talks around it. “What you may not realize is that the cool and collected Gideon Maddox almost unzipped and stepped out of his skin when he saw Stephen slobbering all over you.”
I nod at her empty glass. “How many of those have you had?”
Her lips purse. “Two. Three. No more than four.”
“Uh huh. I’m cutting you off.”
“You’re not the boss of me! And that’s not why I think Gideon likes you.”
“He’s a control freak. The guy has barely spoken a word to me half the day and spent the rest glaring at me like I ran over his dog. He always talks about protecting me as his ‘investment.’ That’s all I am to him.”
“Hmm.” She glances at Gideon and the brunette again at his side. “Seems more like plain old jealousy to me.”
She’s wrong. “Maybe he thinks I’m going to make a side deal for my designs, undercut him, or cut him out altogether. Network for future jobs, hire Stephen to model for m
e, stab him in his big, fat back. Trust me. He’s not jealous of Stephen.”
“Nope. He definitely was, but when I mentioned jealousy just now, I was talking about you.”
Chapter Eighteen
The sun sets, leaving a legacy of darkness. Maggie snores softly in the bed next to mine but as usual, I can’t sleep. Her accusation earlier plagues me. Am I jealous of Gideon? I’m attracted to him, that’s clear. Infatuated, under some spell he cast. I have been since the first day I walked into his house and my watch stopped—my heart along with it.
Okay, maybe that was just an odd coincidence, but there’s something dark and frightening that surrounds him and his home. As hard as it is to imagine, say Gideon was interested in me for more than my creative bent. Interested in what? A one-night stand, a fling? I can’t imagine someone as gun-shy as me entering into a full-on relationship with someone as calculating as Gideon. He told me he takes what he wants, does that mean who he wants, too? His father taught him that love is a fantasy, a fleeting dream that destroys your soul. I wonder if the son holds the same view. Based on his actions, I fear he does.
But the guy has these moments of generosity that confuse and confound me. My beautiful room. Ben’s rehab facility. Gideon could have met the requirements of our deal with far less luxurious accommodations, but he didn’t. The night I fell, he was looking for me to tell me he’d found my cat. When I was injured, he got me help and stayed with me all night. Then there’s the fact he allowed Mags to come to New York with me. He even had chicken soup sent up with a note.
Maybe Maggie is right. Maybe he’s not the beast I thought he was. I mean, yes, the way he’s collecting Ben’s debt is skeevy, and he’s said some troubling things, but … maybe I misjudged him on the whole.
I slip out of bed and pad to the bathroom. Sure it’s one in the morning, but this is important. I need to talk to Gideon. There are questions that need answers, and they won’t wait. I brush my teeth, run a comb through my hair, and apply a touch of lip gloss. Not bad. I’m still thin but the circles under my eyes have faded and my cheeks are pink with excitement.
Maggie snorts and rolls over in bed. I freeze until she settles, and then I creep toward the door. Easing it open a crack, I hear muffled voices filling the hallway. A low, silky tone I recognize as Gideon follows a higher, feminine pitch.
“I’ve missed you, baby.”
I can’t resist and peer far enough out my door to see into the corridor. The brunette model from the reception earlier faces Gideon whose back is against the closed door of his hotel room. Her hand is on his chest and her red lips are in full-on pout mode.
My mouth goes dry. My chest constricts until I can’t breathe. Me jealous? Check. The sight of her so close to him makes me more than a little ill. She presses herself against him. I can’t hear what they’re saying anymore, but her tone sounds seductive, almost pleading.
I take what I want. He’d said. How about what’s thrown at him in a six-foot package wrapped in fishnet stockings?
Fingers wrap my arm, drawing me back, and I jump.
“Shhhh. Rae, come away, sweetheart.” Maggie? Caught up in the scene outside, I never even heard her approach. She closes the door with a click. “Shit. I’m sorry, Rae. This is all my fault. Come back to bed.”
I lay down feeling raw, and stupid, and insanely disappointed. “Nothing is your fault, Mags.”
Maggie crawls in beside me and pets my head. A sigh leaks out of her. “You never would have thought about Gideon as a possibility if I hadn’t brought him up.”
“You saw him … with her?”
“Yeah.” Her voice is chock-full of pity, and I bristle.
“Well, don’t worry about it. I wasn’t thinking anything about Gideon Maddox.”
“You forget. I know you. You thought he was an evil, mean, jerk face until I started talking about how he might like you, how you might like him, and what a poor misunderstood millionaire he might be.”
Truth. “No, I wasn’t.”
“Where were you going when I dragged you back in here, Rae?”
Ack. Busted. “To talk.”
“To talk. To his royal hotness. At one in the morning?”
“Uh huh.”
“About …”
“Okay, you got me.”
“Thought so. It sucks being right only ninety percent of the time. Clearly, I was wrong about him being decent boyfriend material.”
“Boyfriend? Whoa, slow down.”
“Point is, if he was as into you as I thought he was, he wouldn’t be—”
“Got that part, thanks.” I shrink into a ball. “Go to sleep.”
A pause. “I’m sorry. I really thought … I mean he acted like—”
“Don’t be sorry. I dodged a bullet.” Gideon’s passion was like an inferno. He’d burn you down and leave the ash behind without ever getting scorched himself. Heaven help the girl who actually falls for him. “I must have been crazy, but it’s fine. I’m better off alone.”
Maggie strokes my hair. Strangely, the old excuses don’t satisfy anymore. I must be lonelier than I thought. Maybe if I say them long enough, I’ll believe myself again.
Chapter Nineteen
The clock on the wall ticks. The second hand mocks me, sucking time into a black hole as I sit at my worktable and groan. I shuffle through stacks of paperwork but can’t focus. The three days back from New York seem more like three weeks.
Edgar winds around my feet, and I lean down to scratch his ears. His purr is my reward. With a sigh, I abandon the waiting sketches and open my book of Edgar Allan Poe poetry.
“Yes, I now feel that it was then on that evening of sweet dreams—that the very first dawn of human love burst upon the icy night of my spirit. Since that period I have never seen nor heard your name without a shiver, half of delight, half of anxiety …”
Gideon’s face floats around in my head. The image of him in my chair the morning after I fell from the tree haunts me, looking all mysterious and smexy and stupid. I slam my book shut. Gah! “Loser.” I have Stockholm disease, syndrome, whatever. That must be it, right? It’s a thing, as Maggie would say.
As I toss the book down on the table, the corner of an envelope sticks out. The letter I’d stolen from Gideon’s desk. How on earth could I have forgotten? I cut myself some slack. The fall from the tree, insomnia, worry over Ben, not to mention all the general, ghostly weirdness in this house is reason enough, I suppose. Still, I’m surprised I forgot.
With no small amount of guilt, I slip the envelope from between the pages and withdraw the letter inside.
Dear Mr. Maddox, esquire,
Please accept the school’s deepest regrets and our most sincere apologies for the incident occurring last Tuesday. The four boys responsible for locking Gideon in the cafeteria freezer have confessed and received one week’s suspension each.
I quite understand your workload and inability to fly here to oversee your son’s hospitalization, but the doctors confirm he is doing very well. Thank you for allowing Gideon to remain enrolled for another semester. He is intelligent, well mannered, and a favorite among our educators. As I stated on the telephone, all tuition fees are waived from last term. We assure you that hazing new students is not a common problem at Malcolm College.
To ensure that this will not be a repeat occurrence, we are adding new security measures to the campus and heightening the supervision of our student body as a whole to prevent this ever happening again.
If you have any questions or concerns regarding this matter, please feel free to discuss them with me.
Yours respectfully,
S. Allen Gamble, Headmaster
The letter flutters to my lap like a dying leaf from a tree. Oh, Gideon. What must you have gone through? The anger I felt toward myself a moment ago for my attraction to him, shifts to the boys that hurt him, and to his selfish father.
No matter what Gideon’s done to me, I can’t ignore the
pain he must have suffered as a child. He’s still suffering. The reasons Gideon Maddox became who he is are becoming clearer, but he still had a choice. I can’t call him blameless. I don’t know what to call him. Why does he tug on my emotions this way?
Edgar jumps to the table. I survey all the work waiting there for me, though I feel less like working now than before. My heart is a stone in the pit of my stomach.
Gideon …
I stare at the piles of work on my desk. The trademark for my new clothing line is in place and registered, logo done and demographic targeted. I say my line but it isn’t, it’s Gideon’s. He had his lawyers construct a subsidiary company, Raedoxx Apparel, under the name Maddox Properties as an LLC. Business plans, production run costs, advertising, and marketing. I had no idea so much went into launching a clothing line. I’m creative but not so much into finance. It’s overwhelming but exciting, too. I won’t lie. I’m getting a crash course in business, and I’m hoping I’ll be graded on a heavy curve.
I check over the list Gideon’s given me. In the next several weeks, I’m to create the following:
1. Computerized and technical sketches that the apparel manufacturers require for accuracy, and to use for catalogs, investors, and buyers.
2. Spec Sheets
3. Line Sheets for clothing retailers
4. Garment quality checklist
Everything has to be ready before the debut showing of my work in Paris this spring. I repeat that sentence three or four times over in my head just to feel the rush of adrenaline it brings. My clothes and Paris in the same breath. Maybe I can get Dane and Maggie a pass.
All that in addition to my regular schoolwork. I’m in over my head, and truthfully, I am pretty much waiting for my brain to explode. I need help, but I’ve been avoiding Gideon since New York. Thankfully, he’s been distracted. We haven’t talked much other than necessary conversations for business. He’s not busy enough to leave town, though. I’m jonesing for that because I still want to sneak my friends in and go ghost hunting. Plagued with too many tasks and interruptions, I haven’t been to the attic either, but I’m going and soon. For today, the poltergeist quandary remains last on the list.