Amanda replied, “I know how you feel Alex. Sisters can be a real pain in the ass. I understand completely.”
Alex let out a half-hearted laugh, “Okay Amanda. Let’s go run it out. Give me a few to change.”
Just then, she heard the front door open again. Walking into the living room she found Vince was home.
“Hey, Vince. How was the golf game?”
“Hi, gorgeous.” He greeted her smiling, and then gripped her waist kissing her firmly on the lips. “We had to cut it short. There’s been an emergency in New York with one of our clients. I have to fly out tonight and try to smooth some things over and make sure everything gets worked out. I am so sorry to bail on you this evening and abandon our dinner plans. Can you help me pack me a suitcase? I need two suits, two casual outfits and of course my pajamas.”
“Oh Vince please, you never have to apologize for your work schedule,” she replied calmly trying to not let her disappointment ring in her tone. “Will Alex be joining you?”
“No, he is going to stay there with you. I should be back after work on Monday.”
“I’ll go pack your things now, and you can get cleaned up.”
Amanda was upset that Vince was leaving. He seemed to be gone almost every other weekend.
Why didn’t he ever invite me to go with him?
Since Amanda didn’t have a job and Vince was practically gone all the time, it left her feeling irritated and lonely, like she felt when she was married to Brandon. She needed to shake things up. You can shop, workout and go to the spa only so much before you turn into a zombie.
“Ready to go hit the gym, Amanda?” Alex asked as he came around the corner in his workout gear.
“You go ahead Alex. I have to pack Vince a suitcase for New York City. He has an emergency with a client.”
The expression on Alex’s face changed instantly. “Okay,” he said quietly. “See you down there.”
“Good. We’re going to have a chat about this difficult sister of yours.”
Alex gave Amanda a sour look and playfully stuck out his tongue as he turned around to close the door.
Amanda walked down the corridor past the bar to the bedroom. She didn’t mind that Vince had a personal bedroom all to himself. She liked having her space. Vince spent most nights in his own room because he worked late and did not want to disturb Amanda, who usually went to bed around eleven. Entering Vince’s room, Amanda heard the shower running and Vince singing. She smiled. Amanda grabbed his suitcase out of the closet placing it on the chair by the window. Thinking that Vince’s head was probably in problem solving mode she took a chance and decided to ask him if she could get a job.
Stepping into the bathroom she took a deep breath and said very sweetly, “Hey Vince, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, anything you need, gorgeous.”
“Okay, here it goes. I’m finding myself being a little bored. I didn’t think I would ever miss work, and I’m not saying I want to work forty hours a week or anything, but would you object to me getting a part-time job?”
There was silence for a few moments. Finally, Vince replied, “Instead of a part-time job, have you thought about doing volunteer or charity work?”
That idea hadn’t even occurred to Amanda. She didn’t need money, she just needed an outlet. Working on a charity project or a fundraiser was something she could definitely do. She was on the board of a few notable charities and often helped organize special events when she was married to Brandon.
“Vince!” she shouted. “That’s a wonderful idea. Do you have any suggestions? ”
“I have lots of connections Amanda. I will have my secretary send you a list of the charities and organizations I support and you can take your pick.”
“Vince,” her voice became shaky. “You don’t think any of these organizations will hold my past against me do you?”
“They better not if they’d like to stay in my favorable and generous graces.”
Amanda swallowed the fear that had crept in her throat upon hearing Vince’s reassuring words.
“I…I…don’t want to be a bother for you Vince or wreck any relationships you have built because of my errors in judgment.”
The water turned off and Amanda saw Vince reach for his towel. She got a glimpse of his naked body through the fogged glass.
“Amanda,” he said very calmly. “In case it’s unclear, I always get what I want. People need me, I don’t need them. Whatever charity or foundation you decide to put your efforts into, they will accept your help without question. I’ll make dammed sure of that.”
As Amanda finished putting Vince’s clothes in his suitcase, she realized the incredible reach of Vince’s power. He stepped out of the shower, and Amanda couldn’t help but sneak a peek at his chiseled abs and sculpted arms. Vince was incredibly fit. Her hormones kicked into overdrive. He walked into the bedroom and stood directly in front of her. She could feel the heat radiating off his body. Water droplets from his wet hair splashed on Amanda’s skin as he kissed her on the cheek.
Amanda couldn’t take it anymore. Vince looked totally edible standing there half-naked in front of her. She did something bold—she kissed him and tugged on the towel. Vince pushed her to the bed. She was spread out beneath him, and his firm body molded to hers. Vince yanked the tie out of Amanda’s ponytail releasing her blonde hair from its hold. He dipped his head to kiss her. She let out a soft moan, and her knees went weak as Vince slowly removed her clothes from her trim frame.
“Vince…I,” she panted breathlessly.
“Hush baby, I got you. No more talking,” his deep voice commanded.
Amanda threw her head back, letting out a whimper, as she felt Vince lower his dark head delivering slow licks to the most sensitive part of her body.
Oh, God…this was definitely worth the wait.
Chapter Twenty-Four:
Ashleigh
Ashleigh had only been home for a few days. She had just returned from a hotel opening in Seattle and was getting ready to leave for Montreal in the morning. The Le Petit Hotel & Café in Montreal was Ashleigh’s first stop on her next assignment regarding the best boutique hotels in North America.
She had convinced her Editor to let her write the piece. Combining all the research Ashleigh had compiled from past trips with the latest online guest comments of the hotels she picked, the article would be a breeze. In addition, Ashleigh had emailed all her contacts at nearly thirty boutique hotels across the continent letting them know about her article, and she immediately had responses back. Hotels wanted to be on that list, badly.
With all the activity of the past few weeks, Ashleigh had been so engrossed with work she realized she had barely talked to Liam. She looked at her phone and quickly calculated what time it was in London, 7:00 P.M. She stopped packing and pulled up Skype to see if Liam was logged on, not sure if she would be able to catch him online on a Saturday night. She looked, just in case, but Liam was not online. Checking his twitter and Facebook feed for any recent activity made Ashleigh feel a little bit like a stalker. His last tweet was about a recent article he read regarding a new hotel opening in Dubai, and that was on Friday. Liam’s latest Facebook post was a check in at the Newman Arms Pub on Rathbone Street in London that said, “HAVING A FEW PINTS WITH THE LADS.”
Gazing out the window of her penthouse that overlooked the river, she wondered what everyone was up to at that moment. She knew Emily was currently at the Farmer’s market with Ethan. Ashleigh had been invited to join them for drinks that afternoon, but she still had packing to do before she left for Montreal early the next morning.
Suddenly feeling very lonely, she contemplated texting Amanda to see if she wanted to hangout. Why am I feeling so lonely? She realized that she was really missing Liam, and sent h
im a quick Facebook message: HI LIAM, HOPE YOU ARE DOING WELL. I JUST WANTED TO SAY HELLO AND SEE HOW THINGS WERE GOING.
Closing her suitcase she walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of San Pellegrino out of her refrigerator. She came back to her laptop and clicked on the message she had just sent Liam. She knew he had read it because it now displayed: SEEN 12:13 P.M. with a checkmark. Usually Liam responds quickly to her messages, but this time he did not. Then again he was out with friends, but that had never stopped him from getting back to her before. Now Ashleigh was starting to wonder if she had offended Liam in some way. Even worse, maybe he had a different opinion of her now, knowing her past.
Quickly she put those thoughts out of her mind and decided to hit the gym for a quick workout to unwind. Maybe she was just stressed from all the travel and work she had been putting in lately. It does take a toll on the mind and body. Changing into her workout clothes she put her hair up in to a tousled bun and headed off to the gym.
Chapter Twenty-Five:
Emily
Emily and Ethan were on their way back to her house from the Fulton Street Farmer’s Market. They had picked up lots of fresh veggies, fruit and some wine while they were shopping. Emily was planning to make Caprese salads for lunch and relax on the back patio with a glass of Pinot Grigio. Ethan pulled his black Lexus into the driveway, and they began to unload the groceries.
“Here let me unlock the door, Emily. Hand me your keys.” Ethan could see that Emily had undoubtedly picked up one too many bags and was struggling.
“Here you go,” she said as she handed him the keys and walked up to the door.
“Emily, did you leave your house unlocked?” Ethan noticed her front door was not locked when he turned the key. He had locked the door instead of unlocking it. Just then Emily heard a loud noise from inside her house.
“Ethan…” Emily whispered.
Ethan replied calmly, “I heard it too. Emily stay here, and I’ll go check it out.”
Ethan set the wine and the bag of groceries down and slowly opened the door.
When he reached the kitchen he saw Emily’s patio doors were open. The noise they heard was the sound of her lamp on the credenza near the stairs crashing onto the wood floor. Pieces were scattered everywhere.
Emily shouted in a low whisper, “Ethan, what’s going on?”
He didn’t answer. She grabbed the bag of groceries and tapped the door open with her foot. Walking into her house, Emily felt a chill in the air. She felt like crying. Looking around, nothing seemed to be out of order, but the fact that a stranger had been in her home made her feel uneasy. Ethan turned the corner, and Emily let out a shrill scream. He jumped, and Emily dropped the bags.
“Dammit Em, I told you to stay outside,” he scolded.
She looked down at the floor and the pile of fresh vegetables that pooled at her feet. The apples bounced and rolled to the kitchen.
A sigh escaped Emily as she asked, “Ethan, did you happen to check upstairs when you were in here?”
“No, I didn’t. Stay here and I’ll go look.” Ethan walked up the stairs in a stealthy manner like Jack Ryan as Emily stood in her kitchen waiting for the news or an all clear from Ethan.
“Ethan, is everything okay up there?”
“Em, I think you should come up here,” Ethan replied stopping halfway down the stairs. His face seemed to be drained of all color. Emily became frightened and felt all the muscles in her body tighten upon seeing Ethan’s expression.
“Ethan, what is it? You’re scaring me,” her voice hitched as she gradually followed Ethan up the staircase. Ethan carefully opened Emily’s bedroom door. She entered with caution. What she saw hanging on her bedroom mirror and walls stopped Emily in her tracks, paralyzing her with a fear she had never felt. She stood motionless then gripped Ethan’s hand.
“Em, call the police, now,” Ethan instructed. “And you’re not staying here tonight. You’ll be coming home with me.”
“Hello? Someone at this address called the police?” a female voice said.
Emily’s heart was pounding as she moved her eyes from one location to the next. Her bedroom was covered with photos of her and Ethan together. Shopping for groceries—together, working out—together, eating at a restaurant—together, and there were even a few pictures of the two of them talking in the parking lot outside of Cooper Bentley. The most frightening photo of all was a picture of the two of them clearly having sex in what appeared to be Ethan’s bed. The photo showed Emily from behind with her dark hair cascading down over her shoulders and her back. You couldn’t see her face, as she was on top of Ethan, but you could plainly see him.
“How in the hell did someone take that picture?” she inquired with anger in her voice while pointing to it on the wall.
Ethan walked over and angrily ripped the photo down. Seeing the same image in another spot, he reached out his hand, but quickly drew back thinking he could be destroying evidence. There was another photo that was at such close range, Emily wondered if the person who took it was in the room with them.
“Anyone home? You called for the police,” the female voice inquired again.
“Emily, come on,” Ethan said as he tugged her elbow.
“Uhhh…yes…I called the police. We’ll be right down.” Since there was really no time for Emily to freak out, thanks to the speed of the Grand Rapids police, she tucked her hair behind her ear and walked down the staircase. Ethan followed.
There in her kitchen stood two officers. The female officer was short with dirty blonde hair that was tucked into a low bun under her hat. She had deep brown eyes and looked to be in her early twenties. The male officer was tall and had a mustache. Of course he did. He smelled like aftershave and cigarettes.
Emily reached her hand out to the female officer and said, “Hi, thank you for coming. I’m Emily Greene, and I’m the one who called. This is my friend, Ethan Carlson.”
“I’m Officer Scott, and this is Officer Randolph. Can you tell me what happened?” Officer Randolph tipped his cap and nodded towards Emily.
Emily recounted all she could, which was really not all that much. She pointed out the broken lamp and the open patio doors. Officer Scott was diligently taking notes as Officer Randolph scanned the living room and kitchen.
“Is there anything else Miss Greene? Is anything missing?”
Emily bit her lip, and her eyes welled with tears. Ethan noticed she was beginning to break. Gently placing his arms around her, he said, “Officers, you should probably come upstairs and have a look for yourselves.”
The senior officer looked at his younger partner and directed, “I’m going to inspect the backyard and the rest of the house, while you attend to the upstairs matter.” Officer Scott nodded in agreement.
Emily and the female officer ascended the stairs into her bedroom, where Officer Scott’s eyes widened. She looked at Emily and said, “Whoa, this is some freaky stuff, but I have seen worse.”
“Oh, you mean like murder?” Emily said sharply.
“Sorry, Miss Greene I wasn’t trying to offend you,” Officer Scott replied softly as she crossed the room and scanned a few of the photos.
“It’s okay,” Emily said as she looked away from the all too personal photos that clung to her bedroom walls. “I know you meant no harm. My emotions are all over right now. Someone invaded my personal space,” Emily said feeling her throat tighten.
She choked back tears because she did not want to cry in front of the female officer who was nearly 10 years her junior, but she was not sure how long she could hold them back.
Officer Scott gave Emily a sympathetic look and said, “I know you’re scared. This is a total violation of your personal space. I will have to call this in and get a Detective over here.”
Officer S
cott left the room and proceeded to call the station. Ethan quietly came in and put his hand on Emily’s shoulder. Startled, she flinched and turned around to face him. She threw her arms around his neck, and that was her breaking point. Tears ran down her cheeks. Ethan responded by hugging her tighter.
“Emily, hey… look at me.” He pulled back gently and met her gaze. “The police and detectives will find this person. If they don’t, I will pay for a Private Investigator and handle the matter myself.”
“Miss Greene,” Officer Randolph interjected. “We found these items sitting on the table on your patio with this note attached. Do you recognize these pictures?”
The experienced officer held up the photos and the box. They were hers. All the photos of Craig by himself or Craig and Emily together had been separated out and bundled together with a rubber band and a note that read: HE’LL NEVER LOVE YOU.
Ethan shot Emily a puzzled look. Just then Emily remembered the cryptic and creepy phone calls she had been receiving over the past few weeks. Were the phone calls connected somehow? Was the person who was calling her the person who broke into her home? Did it have something to do with Craig?
Emily was shaken thinking that Morgan might not be the culprit and this situation was far more serious than she originally realized. It was time to tell Ethan about the calls, the texts, and her suspicions of Morgan and about Craig.
“Yes, these belong to me. The note however, does not.”
“Very well, Miss Greene we’ll submit the note as evidence and have the pictures dusted for prints,” Officer Randolph replied.
Once he left the room, Emily, who was trying so hard not to cry again, walked over to her desk and said, “Ethan, I have something I need to talk to you about.”
Fifteen Weekends Page 13