Finding Holly

by B. E. Baker

  “Hey, I love my secretary.”

  “Oh you do?” I raise my eyebrows. “As your girlfriend, how worried should I be?”

  “She’s pretty gay, so I’m fairly sure she’d krav maga me to the ground and then sue if I ever so much as winked in her direction, but she’s saved me a million times.”

  I can’t help a side smile. “Well, I love working for Mary, and I love living in America. Liechtenstein isn’t like the United Kingdom, or anywhere you’re familiar with, probably. My dad literally goes jogging and says ‘hoi’ to everyone he sees.” Or, he did before he started going blind. I doubt if he still does. “But when we leave our boundaries, it’s not that familiar, not that comfortable, not that normal. Having servants and people who waited on me. . .” I’m not sure how to say this the right way. “I never liked it. As soon as I was old enough to understand, it made me uncomfortable that someone was doing something I could do for myself.”

  “I’d guess that’s fairly uncommon,” James says. “Especially for a young person. You thought it was weird, even though it’s all you knew?”

  “Well, we did a lot of things for ourselves here, and when we went elsewhere, we had to maintain appearances.”

  “And you actually prefer the non-stop hustle in America?” James lifts his eyebrows.

  “I was lonely at first,” I say. “But then I met Geo and she needed me. And then I met Mary, and in a different way, she did too. And then Trudy, and now Trig and Brekka, and Rob, and Luke and Paul. They’re as much my family as my parents and Cole are. I think serving someone bonds you to them, and I had never served anyone in my life. It wasn’t allowed, not here.”

  “And you left the misery and bad memories behind.” He gets it. I don’t know how or why, but he understands.

  “You can text Luke,” I say. “I know that I can’t stop you, but I wish you wouldn’t. They’ll never look at me the same way again.”

  “They’re going to find out,” James says sadly.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Don’t you think your visit will make the papers?” he asks. “Or the fact that you’re working with an American investor?”

  I shrug. “It will locally, for sure. But it’s not like Liechtenstein is really headline worthy, even in Europe. We’re small potatoes, truly.”

  James opens the door. “I hate lying,” he says. “But if you want to keep this quiet, I suppose that’s not really my call.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “I will tell you that I think it’s a mistake.” James offers me his arm like he’s escorting me to a ball.

  “Duly noted.” I take his arm and follow him into my own factory.

  We spend hours with Cole meeting the workers, examining equipment, and looking over the extensive inventory. Our storage rooms are literally crammed to bursting with top quality cordless phones. I feel a little sick. How did it get this bad? It hurts a little bit that none of the workers remember me.

  “You’re investor from America?” Erik asks in English when I smile at him.

  I open my mouth to tell him that, no, it’s me. I used to twist his mustache back when he had one. He gave me piggy-back rides.

  But he doesn’t remember, and I don’t see the point in reminding him.

  “I’m an American,” I agree. “Nice to meet you.”

  Cole frowns, but he doesn’t argue. Maybe he’s given up.

  I lose track of time, but my stomach doesn’t. It rumbles loudly and Cole chuckles.

  “What time is it?” I ask.

  Cole pulls out his phone. “Almost four o’clock. I better head out soon.”

  “Oh no,” I say. “I wanted to take James to see Wildschloss.”

  “There’s time,” Cole says. “If you hurry.”

  “But I might eat his face if we don’t get dinner soon.”

  “That sounds. . . disturbing,” Cole says. “But I have some crackers in my car. I’m more than happy to donate those to save poor James’ face. Mom would be so sad if he came back as ugly as me.”

  “My nose thanks you for your willingness to share,” James jokes.

  “Crackers?” I sigh. “I suppose as long as we can get into Marée after we hike up to Wildschloss, I’ll survive.”

  “Marée?” Cole asks. “You have fancy taste for a secretary.”

  “Fine.” I put my hand on my hip. “But Subway closes at six-thirty in Vaduz.” I pin James with a stare. “So you better hike fast.”

  “Whoa,” James says. “We’re hiking to the castle?” He lifts up one foot. He’s wearing pretty nice leather loafers, and he scrunches his nose. “We may need to stop by my hotel so I can change.”

  “Then we really need to go,” I say. “Did you get what you needed here?”

  I can’t read James’ expression. “I did.”

  “Okay, well, good luck Cole. I’ll see you back at home.”

  Cole winks at me, and I have no idea what that means either, but it reminds me of something Noel would do.

  “Hey, are you alright?” James asks.

  I shake my head to dispel the memories and walk toward the car park. The employees wave goodbye and I wave back. “I’m fine. It was nothing.”

  “If you say so,” James says. “But you looked upset.”

  “I’m fine.” But I grab my own door handle and let myself in before he can come around and open it for me.

  “You knew we were hiking,” he says. “That’s why you’re wearing Brooks.” He jabs some buttons on his phone and a map to his hotel pops up.

  I smile, because I doubt I need a map, even now. “It helps to know the area.”

  “I suppose it does.”

  “Did you pack sneakers?” I ask.

  “I had my assistant send me some,” he says. “They should have arrived by now.”

  “You have an assistant and a secretary?” Color me impressed.

  He shrugs. “My schedule is insane. It makes sense to let someone else handle the details I hate to manage.”

  I guess it does. “But why did you have them send sneakers at all?”

  “I had him send a variety of things, including workout clothes.”

  “Are you a big runner?” I try not to judge. I mean, Trudy loves to run. Paul loves to run. People sometimes like doing it, just not my people.

  He shakes his head. “I lift weights, mostly.”

  Having seen him almost exclusively in suits and tuxedos, I’m now curious. What does he look like in a t-shirt? “Interesting. It’s good that I know that, as the girlfriend, I mean.”

  “Are you a runner?”

  I don’t choke or bark out a laugh, which makes me happy. “Uh, no. Not unless someone very scary is chasing me, anyway.”

  “What do you do to keep in shape?”

  I think about his question. “Nothing, I guess.”

  He frowns. “You’re going to make every woman in America hate you if you say that.”

  “I don’t eat a lot,” I say. “For one. I mean, I’m picky about what I eat. But also, I do things, but nothing particularly to stay in shape.”

  “You’re talking gibberish.”

  “I’m not. Look, I like to try new things. I like hiking, if I’m actually going somewhere. I like to go roller blading.”

  James laughs.

  I slap at his arm playfully, noticing there is some heft there after all. Now I’m really excited for the hike. “Some people spend so much time judging other people for what they do that they miss everything fun in life.”

  “That’s actually a little profound,” he says.

  “A very close friend of mine made me promise to always do anything that looked fun, no matter how silly or stupid or juvenile it might seem.”

  “And have you?”

  “Absolutely,” I say. “If I want a Mickey Mouse ice cream on a stick, I get one. If I want to roller blade in the park, I do it. If I want to swim in a lake, even if it’s boggy, I do that too.”

  “You can end up with flesh eating bact
eria—”

  “Nope,” I say. “None of that.”

  “No science?” he asks.

  “It’s the adult reflex,” I say. “To always think of the reasons not to do things. I look for reasons to do them.”

  “And this hike we’re about to take,” he asks. “How long is it, exactly?”

  “Oh please, you big baby. It’s a mile.” I notice where we’ve arrived. “Whoa, you’re at the Park Hotel?”

  He nods, a little nervous almost.

  “I buried the corpse of the man I killed here,” I say.

  James pulls into a spot and slowly turns to face me.

  “I’m kidding. Sheesh. But seriously, we would have come here anyway. It’s the closest place to park for our hike, so this is brilliant.”

  “Almost like fate guided us,” he says softly.

  “Maybe,” I agree, my heart racing.

  “You should come with me, then,” he says. “I’ll change and we can leave immediately.”

  “It’s either that or wait out here in the car.” I hop out and follow him to the front desk.

  “Mr. Fulton,” the clerk says in clipped English. “A large package was delivered to your room an hour ago.”

  “Thank you,” James says.

  When we reach his room, a part of me wants to stay in the hall. Something about walking into his room, however innocent, makes me nervous. But he walks inside and holds the door for me.

  I hesitate.

  “I won’t bite,” James says. “Or at least, not unless you ask.”

  My breathing hitches and I grab the doorframe like an idiot, like he’s going to drag me inside. I force a laugh. “I know you won’t bite.”

  “Are you coming inside?” He lifts one eyebrow.

  “Of course,” I say.

  My feet don’t move.

  “Now?” he asks.

  “Right.” I nod.

  “Are you sure you didn’t kill someone in here?” he asks.

  “I’m not going to sleep with you,” I blurt out.

  The laugh that pours out of James’ chest is full, loud, and unrestrained. “I certainly hope not. We have a castle to explore.”

  I practically run through the doorway, propelled forward by the total hilarity he felt at the prospect of sleeping with me. “You have a nice laugh,” I mutter.

  James freezes then, every part of him utterly still, like a bird of prey sizing up a mouse. “You have a nice. . . everything.” He leans forward slowly, his eyes meeting mine, his face drawing closer one inch at a time. And when I think he’ll turn away, he doesn’t.

  He kisses me then, with no one around to see, and I practically melt. My knees wobble, my hands shake, my brain turns to mush. I would be a terrible rabbit, so drawn to the hawk that I wouldn’t even attempt to run away.

  He pulls back abruptly. “I need to change.” He grabs his clothes and practically bolts for the bathroom. Moments later, he emerges from the bathroom in dark, slightly distressed jeans and a red t-shirt that clings to a surprisingly large chest and beautifully defined arms. I can’t quite stop staring, which probably makes me look dopey.

  I stand up and practically jog to the door. “We better hurry or we’ll lose the sunlight.”

  “Oh no.” James slaps his forehead. “You never got your crackers.”

  “Right. Whoops.”

  He rummages around in one of his bags, pulls out a small package of Bischoff cookies and holds them out to me.

  “Where did you get these?” I look at them, but don’t take them.

  “Plane,” he says. “But I wasn’t hungry.”

  “You kept them anyway?”

  He shrugs. “Never know when you’ll meet a damsel in distress who’s practically starving.”

  “I’m not in distress,” I protest.

  “Of course not,” he says.

  But I’m lying. Because my heart is on the verge of an attack, and I feel the need to run for cover, just like my spirit animal, the rabbit. I take them so he doesn’t keep standing there, staring at me. “Thanks.”

  He grabs a backpack out of his enormous box and tosses a bottle of water from the desk inside.

  “It’s a mile,” I say. “We don’t really need provisions.”

  “Even so,” he says. “Better safe.”

  “I suppose so.”

  I leave the hotel room, James on my heels, and walk toward the trailhead. It’s only a mile to the top, and about a seven hundred and fifty foot rise from there, but the air is thinner than I’m used to, and I realize that I’m pretty out of shape.

  “Maybe I should be doing some exercise,” I say sheepishly. “You seem to be fine.”

  “Need a piggy-back ride?” he asks.

  I hope he’s kidding. “Uh no.” I don’t have the energy to talk much, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t pry some information out of him. “You know all my secrets.”

  “All of them?”

  “Maybe not every single one, but the big stuff.” I put one foot in front of the other. “But I know nothing about you. Care to share something?”

  “Like what?” he asks. “My account passwords?”

  “As your girlfriend, maybe you should tell me those. I mean, if you ever forget them, I could help. Also, I might need that information to go shopping, and it benefits you, because I’ll look even nicer than I do now.” I beam.

  James laughs.

  “But seriously,” I huff. “It’s your turn to talk. Tell me something you’d tell your girlfriend. It should help you fake things better at my party in two days.”

  “In the interest of the charade,” he says. “I suppose I should, but I have no idea what to share.”

  “Tell me about your parents,” I say.

  “How much time do you have?” he asks.

  “All night,” I say. “And most of tomorrow.”

  “Well, that’s way too much time.”

  He takes my hand and I completely lose any thoughts I had formed. His parents. I was asking about his parents. “Why?”

  “They’re not very complicated. My mom cares only about herself. She married my dad, but they were miserable from the start. They divorced and she’s been married four more times. She’s currently single, but even that won’t last very long.”

  “I’m sad now.”

  “You should be. Her life makes me sad, but she doesn’t even have the insight to realize that she’s the problem.”

  “Five marriages?” I ask. “And five divorces? Really?”

  He squeezes my hand. “Don’t worry. She’s healthy enough to aspire to five more.”

  “Oh, wow. I’m sorry.”

  He shrugs. “At least no one fights over where I’ll be going home for Christmas.”

  My heart breaks for him. My mother isn’t perfect, but she loves me. She has always loved me, for every second. And she loves my dad. “What about your father?”

  He shakes his head. “He’s worse.”

  “Worse?” I lift my eyebrows. “How?”

  “He only cares about his company. He spends every second of his life working.”

  I don’t mention that, so far, the only thing James has talked about is his job.

  “He remarried after he divorced my mother, and he’s still married to Chris, but the only reason they’ve stayed together is that Chris kind of lives her own life, entirely separate from Dad. She gets access to his money, his name, and his country club membership, and he has someone to take to parties, or go on vacation with if he ever gets bored.”

  My lip curls. “Really?”

  “I know, it’s horrible.”

  I’m understanding a little more why James never bothered with a girlfriend.

  “But don’t feel too bad for me. I hardly ever saw my parents, really.”

  “Who raised you, then?” I ask.

  “Well, boarding schools raised me, if I’m being honest. But when I wasn’t at school, I mostly lived with my grandmother. My father’s mother. My mother’s parents made her what
she was.”

  “Your grandmother?” I ask. “She’s kind?” Oh, how I hope she’s kind.

  “She was the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

  Was. She’s gone.

  I can’t talk past the frog in my throat, but luckily I don’t have to. We’ve reached Wildschloss. I take James’ hand and spin him around so he can see the entire valley below.

  “That’s breathtaking,” he says softly.

  I’m not sure how long we stand there, staring at Vaduz beneath us. After a moment, I worry he’ll ask me something. Something I can’t answer. So I turn and head down the path to the ruins of the old castle. I scramble over piles of rock, walk past countless weeds and overgrowth, and duck underneath the low doorway into the main keep.

  “How many times have you been here?” he asks.

  Too many to count. It was Noel’s favorite place. “A few,” I say, because I can’t talk about Noel while I’m standing here. I just can’t.

  8

  James

  I should never have agreed to pretend Paisley is my girlfriend, because now I wish it was real.

  I keep forgetting it’s not.

  Watching her scramble over rocks and rubble, cheeks rosy from the exertion, eyes sparkling with mischief, I want to wrap my arms around her and never let go. I want to kiss her until she forgets her own name. I want to wrap her in bubble wrap and take her home with me.

  I want too many things that I can’t have.

  Dinner last night was practically torture. She didn’t ask me about my grandmother, and I didn’t ask her about what happened to drive her away from a home where she’s clearly adored. I didn’t ask her why she became a secretary instead of a doctor. I didn’t badger her at all.

  I just enjoyed spending time with her.

  She shines like the sun at noon day. Her laughter lifts my heart in a way I didn’t know it could lift, like it’s being hauled upward with hundreds of helium balloons.

  My phone has been ringing for twenty minutes. I finally roll over and pick it up. After all, what if Paisley’s calling?