by Adler
I blush and smile, “I think I’ve lost track.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I awaken to Harrison propped up on his arm lying on his side facing me. No, staring at me would be a better way to describe it.
He is grinning at me from ear to ear with that megawatt toothpaste ad smile. I feel very self-conscious.
“Good morning, Danielle, sleep well?”
I yawn and stretch while trying not to share my morning breath.
“Yes, I passed out from sheer physical exhaustion. Oh and by the way, I think after last night we added three more locations, so I believe the count is now at fifteen.”
He laughs. “I am glad I have found a woman that is able to keep up with me. Speaking of which, I would love to ravage your body right now, but that might delay with my plans for you today. Get up and get ready. I have some surprises planned.
I stretch again “Hmmm, I don’t usually like surprises, but I might be game today.”
“I think you will like the day I have planned. Now you had better get in that shower before I eat you for breakfast.” He plants a kiss on the tip of my nose.
I whip my head up from blow-drying my hair upside down and jump with a start as I see Harrison’s reflection standing behind me. I turn around to look at him and struggle to catch my breath. The mogul is going casual today. He’s dressed in a white very tightly fitted slight v-neck t-shirt, a pair of snug dark colored jeans that have a worn but expensive look. His hair is perfectly messy as usual, and he has hot as hell black motorcycle boots on. Oh my heavens, sex god here! I don’t know if I can handle seeing him dressed like that all day.
He hands me a large glossy white shopping bag. Okay, curiosity is piqued. I take the bag from him, and look inside. I find a black leather jacket with metal buckles. Below the jacket, there is a large shoebox. I open it to find, not shoes, but a pair of motorcycle boots much like the ones Harrison is wearing. Okay, so he wants us to dress like the Hell’s Angels apparently. I turn to look at him, but he’s already left the room. I find some jeans and a white loose t-shirt in the bottom of my overnight bag. I get dressed and grab the jacket and boots. I head out to locate Harrison. I hear him talking on the phone, in French. Another one of those ominous calls based on the tone of his voice, and I can tell it’s not going well.
Hearing him on the phone reminds me that I haven’t checked my phone since yesterday. I grab my phone out of my purse and slide the unlock pad. I open it to find eleven missed calls and five text messages. Two from Harrison. I look at the time and notice that it was during the happy hour with Bradley. The other nine calls are from unknown caller with the times starting at 5:00 PM all the way until after 2:00 AM. That’s definitely not a telemarketer. I look at the text messages and see the usual suspects checking in on me, Mom, Simone and even one from Bradley wanting to know if everything is okay. I text back everyone so they don’t get worried, and then stow my phone in my back jean pocket.
It’s all of the sudden eerily quiet in the penthouse. I have the creepy feeling I’m being watched. I turn around and am relieved to find a smiling Harrison standing with an odd-looking large backpack in hand.
“Ready to go?”
“Yes! Where are we going?”
“That’s for me to know. Now get your boots and jacket on.”
I lean over and put the boots on. They fit perfectly. He helps me into my jacket, but I still don’t understand the outfits we are wearing. However, it kind of excites me.
He grabs the strange bag and we head down the elevator.
Once we make our way to the garage, he heads over to a gated area instead of to the sex mobile. Okay, now I’m confused. He disappears behind a gate and then he comes back around and motions me to follow. I come around the gate and am surprised to see a motorcycle parked behind the gates. Harrison is busy strapping the big bag to the front of the bike on the tank.
He stands up and smiling at me says, “Your ride awaits, my lady.”
I feel my heart in my throat. Me on a motorcycle? Holy crap!
“I don’t know, Harrison; I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle. I don’t know the first thing about riding on the back of one.”
“Relax, I’ll take it easy on you.” He walks over to me and places a helmet on my head and then he puts on his. He helps me onto the back of the cycle and then gives me instructions on how to ride piggyback. I’m to lean with him when he leans and sit up straight when we’re going straight. I need to hang on to him at all times and to trust him.
“I have to tell you that I’m scared as hell. Motorcycles have always scared me.”
He gives me a stern look, “You will be fine, just go with the flow. We will have a great time.”
With that, he turns the key and the Ducati motorcycle engine revs up. I feel the vibrations between my legs. He hops on in front of me and puts away the kickstand. I wrap my arms around him as he flips down the shield on my helmet and then his own. I’m freaking out. My stomach is churning and I feel like I might barf.
He eases us out of the garage slowly onto the street. We are off. I close my eyes at first, but then open them to see why we are slowing. At the first stoplight, he puts his feet down to keep us steady. I start to follow his lead and he pats my leg with a gloved hand. I see the light change and I hold my breath again. About ten more lights and we’re finally heading out of the city proper toward the industrial part of Northwest Portland. I begin to feel a bit more at ease and relaxed. I’m still freaked out, but the feeling of my arms wrapped around his body and the power of the machine between my legs is exhilarating. I like how it makes my crotch tingle.
He turns off the main road and takes us into the country on winding roads. The leaves have started falling and billowing around us as we speed by. Despite the helmet, I can smell the musky scent of the decaying leaves. It’s a beautiful day with clear blue skies and the sun shining high. I never thought I would enjoy riding on the back of a motorcycle. I feel so alive and so free. I’ve never felt like this in my life and I know the ride will soon be over. For now, I want to enjoy the feeling.
We turn onto a narrow road and then take the next left through iron gates onto a tree-lined lane. He slows the bike even more as we continue along the long paved driveway to a clearing in the trees. Once through the clearing, we come upon a horseshoe shaped driveway that fronts to a huge yellow house that looks really run down. Well, actually it appears to be more of a mansion. It’s a craftsman style house with a painted white porch that appears to wrap around the whole place.
Harrison brings the bike to a full stop and pushes the kickstand down with his left foot. He dismounts the bike and then helps me off. Taking off his helmet, he nods at me to do the same. I remove my helmet and then shake out my hair. My back is stiff, so I stretch and turn side to side to loosen up. I’m embarrassed when I notice that Harrison is watching me. In a swift movement, he grabs me, dips me down and plants a big kiss on my lips. He stands me back upright and I stand there grinning like an idiot. He works on removing the tank bag and then takes my hand. I follow him up the steps and around the covered porch to the backside of the house. I gasp at the view. Straight ahead, I see Mount Hood and to the left I see a glimpse of Mount St. Helens. Out in the overgrown formal gardens stands a lovely water fountain that is clearly not functioning. Over to the right is a horse stable and corral, and next to that is a huge white barn with a silo. To the left there are tennis courts and an in-ground pool with an ivy covered cabana. I turned to Harrison who is taking it all in too.
“Okay, so what is this place? Is this yours?”
He lays the pack down on the porch and then takes my hand and leads me down the steps. We walk out to a path that is hard to discern since it’s so unkempt. “Yes, this is mine. I am thinking about turning it into a bed and breakfast inn or perhaps another winery. It really seems to have its own micro climate and I am betting a Pinot would do well here.”
We keep walking along the path out to the center of the gardens to
the enormous water fountain. I stand there looking around and feeling overwhelmed. The sheer amount of work I can see all around me seems daunting. “What do you think?”
“Honestly, I’m surprised, I don’t know if I see you running a bed and breakfast Inn. A winery, now that’s a different story.” I laugh.
He laughs out loud. “Honestly I don’t see me running a bed and breakfast either.” He laughs again. “However, I do see this being a part of my future.”
“Well, in that case, I love it! I can see the potential, despite the overgrown grounds.”
“Are you hungry? I am starving!” He heads back up the path to the house and grabs his bag.
I stand waiting for him in the garden and take in the scene. This is not at all the kind of place I would picture Harrison in. He is a brilliant businessman, so I am sure this is a hidden gold mine of sorts.
He interrupts my thoughts, smiling from ear to ear. He reminds me of a kid who has just caught a salamander. He nudges me toward the edge of the garden, “Shall we?”
He then lays out a blanket from the bag and then he pulls out a bottle of Pellegrino and two plastic cups. He pours us each some water, and then hands me one cup. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I’ve become. I gratefully drink all the bubbly water down as I sit next to him on the blanket. He then pulls out several small containers and a brown bag. I watch him as he skillfully lays out the smorgasbord before us on the blanket. It looks like Philippe has been very busy preparing all of this for us.
We eagerly eat brie with baguette bread, slathered with honeycomb and toasted almonds. We also enjoy a relish bowl of mini pickles, which I’m informed are called Cornichons and a mix of olives. For dessert, we have bite sized cheesecakes with a cherry filling. It’s a delicious lunch and the weather is just perfect. More importantly, the company couldn’t have been more sparkling. The birds’ singing and crickets’ chirping lull me into a completely relaxed state.
We have a lovely conversation discussing his plans to overhaul this property and make it a proper manor. He also informs me that he can see me out here roaming the grounds. Hmmm, I find it interesting that he would visualize me in his future when he’s the last to want anything messy, according to his own admissions. I discard the thought. I need to live in the moment.
I hear my phone buzzing from the leather jacket I had laid on the ground next to me. I can’t remember which pocket I moved it to. I finally find the right pocket, and I look at the caller ID. It says Unknown caller. I blurt out, “Damn it! Not again!”
Harrison lounges on his side on the blanket, but he quickly moves to a sitting position. “What’s wrong, Danielle? Who is it?”
“I don’t know, I’ve been receiving these calls from an unknown caller for weeks now. I’ve answered a few times and said to take me off their list, but there’s never anyone there. Or if there is, I just hear breathing.”
He shakes his head and then thinks for a minute. “When did you say the calls started?” I have to think hard for a minute because I can’t really remember exactly, because at first I didn’t give them much credence.
“I’m not sure, I can’t remember exactly when, but they really became more noticeable around the towers grand opening and shortly thereafter. I had a call last week that I actually answered and I heard breathing, and when I said for them to stop calling, they laughed and then hung up. It was really creepy.”
He frowns at me and then in a gruff voice says, “Why have you not told me about this before?”
“I just didn’t think it was important at first, but then I just keep forgetting to tell you. Plus, I originally thought it was just a persistent telemarketer . I’ve only answered a handful of the calls.”
He bites his lip while he mulls it over. I want to lean over and bite that lip.
“Maybe you should change your number?”
“No way, that’s how my clients contact me. I can’t change my number. It’s not a good move businesswise.” I smile at him. “I guess I just get to keep dealing with my unknown caller stalker.”
He turns his gaze on me and scowls while his eyes turn a dark ominous blue. “That’s really nothing to joke about, Danielle. I will have Garrin do some checking into it.”
I wonder to myself what, if anything, Garrin from Montreal can possibly do to help. I’ve already contacted the detectives about it, but have heard nothing so far.
“Harrison, have you heard anything else about the hidden cameras or any updates? I can’t believe they haven’t kept you up to date.”
He turns his attention to plucking at a thread on his jeans. “They have been keeping me up to date. The detective said they have identified who installed the cameras, but the trail has gone cold as to where the pictures were being fed to. The guys who installed the cameras and video feeds were just subcontractors so the police are following up with the contractor who hired them. The contractor who hired them is ‘conveniently’ out of town. It appears to have been a fairly sophisticated operation.”
I snort. “Yeah, I’ll say it was. So they have no leads on who is behind this?”
“Danielle, I know you have an inquiring mind, but some things are better for you to just stay out of. I will have a talk with the detective about the unknown caller. It is probably nothing, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“But, I already contacted him and he didn’t get back to me.”
He smiles, “I have my way with Detective Burke, so don’t you worry. Shall we?” He gestures toward the house.
“Oh yes! I can’t wait to see the inside, but Harrison, please keep me informed if anything new comes up.”
“If I deem it necessary, I will tell you. Fair enough?”
“I guess.” I give him a half smile.
I help to pack up the picnic and follow Harrison up to the manor house, as he called it, for a grand tour. He leads me around the front and lays his bag on the front porch. He stops for a second and then gets an impish grin on his face. I follow his eyes to a swing hanging from the enormous oak tree across the circular drive. “Come on.” He grabs my hand and practically drags me off the porch. He runs, with me in tow, to the swing. “Sit,” he demands, pointing to the large wood plank suspended by two thick ropes knotted underneath. I tentatively sit down on the swing and put my hands on each rope to steady myself. He stands a few feet behind me and begins pushing me. It feels odd at first; I can’t remember the last time I was on a swing. Not to mention being in the country all alone with the sexiest man alive. The longer he pushes me, and the higher I go the more exhilarating it becomes. In that moment, I feel like we’ve left the real world and entered a world made just for the two of us. I almost don’t recognize that the giggles I hear are my own. I truly feel a moment of bliss.
He slowly decreases pushing me and lets the swing eventually come almost to a stop. He comes around to stand in front of me and grabs the swing to steady it before he leans down and kisses me softly at first and then he increases his intensity by probing my mouth. He tastes of sweet cheesecake and honey. Delicious.
He helps me off the swing and we head back toward the house. He points out plans for the grounds on the way. We reach the porch and he pulls out a key and unlocks the door.
We walk into a grand foyer and are greeted with an impressive crystal chandelier and a magnificent sweeping staircase. The floors, though they are worn, are a beautiful mahogany. We step further into the foyer and to my right there is a large sliding door that still functions great. Inside is a large sitting room with a lovely hand carved fireplace mantle and enclosure. There are built in window seats flanking the fireplace. Through another sliding pocket door, I find myself in the Master’s Den. In these old homes, it wasn’t uncommon for the men to hang out in the den while the women went to the sitting room. Back out across the foyer is an enormous living room with a dining room through an arched doorway. The dining room has a wall of built-in china cabinets with leaded glass doors. Just stunning. The chandelier is something to behold, especi
ally once the layers of dust is removed. Through a swinging door is a butler’s pantry with plenty of built in drawers, cupboards and even a little stainless steel sink. Then through even another swinging door, the impressive kitchen that hasn’t been updated since the 70’s with almond colored appliances, a large island with avocado green ceramic tiles, and even the valances show their age with layer upon layer of dust. It’s a bright and airy space with an enormous island, big walk in pantry, double ceramic apron sinks and windows flanking two walls of the room. It’s a sunny space despite the oppressive color palette. I would gut the room and start from scratch, but salvage the sinks, base of the island and the windows. I casually wonder what Harrison will have in store? Before I get a chance to ask, he leads me to a small door and up a skinny set of stairs.
“How cool, it’s the servants stair!”
He chuckles, “Oh yeah, are you my chambermaid then?” I blush a few shades of crimson.
We reach the second floor and exit through another smaller door out into a long hall that runs the length of the house. Off the hall, there are several doors. We explore each of the empty rooms and I marvel at all the intricate carved woodwork and the number of built in cabinets. Though the closets are small, and I am quick to remind myself that back in the day, people just didn’t have large wardrobes. We finally reach the master bedroom and it is amazing. It faces out the back of the house toward the mountains. The view is just lovely. It has a large bed that appears to have been carved right where it stands. Due to its enormity, I’m guessing it is original to the house. Nobody has wanted to move it, I suppose.
I turn to Harrison, who is watching me. “Well sir, I believe you have found yourself a project, but from what I can see, this home has been well cared for, so a lot of it is cosmetic.” He smiles at me. “So you approve, do you?” I look out the large windows with leaded glass inserts above and imagine myself living here for just a moment, and my heart begins to swell. I say almost as if to myself, “Yes, I more than approve.”