by M. V. Miles
“But I do. I’ve done business with women like you before.”
“Women like me? You mean my mom? I’m not her.”
‘You’re more alike than you know.”
The photo. “Did you go to school with them?”
“No,” he said, obviously not wanting to talk about it, because he turned on the radio. I was sure he was lying. I didn’t know what to say, so I looked out the window.
“Hey,” he said, placing a hand on my bare thigh. Butterflies rippled in my stomach.
“What?” Why was he touching me? The deep soft voice of Ella Fitzgerald filled the car.
“Why are you walking?” He removed his hand, and I could breathe again.
“Stuart forgot, I guess. I left my phone at home and couldn’t get hold of him.” His car was impeccable. It smelled like mountain air. I wondered who took care of it.
“You need to carry your cell phone. It’s important.”
“Why? I did fine without one back in Illinois.”
“But you’re here now and need a phone.”
There was no point arguing with him. He wasn’t going to change his mind.
“So want to tell me the real reason you’re walking?”
“That is the real reason, unless you’re insinuating that I knew you were going to go by at exactly--” I looked at my watch. “Oh I don’t know, 5:47p.m.? Please, I have better things to worry about than trying to get your attention.”
“I’m sure it was just an oversight.”
“I’m sure it was on purpose. Stuart should have left me in Illinois. Oh, but that would ruin your perfect plan now, wouldn’t it?” I threw his secret back at him.
He was unfazed. “You’re his daughter, and you deserve a good life, one that I can offer you. You’ve been through a lot.”
“You don’t know jack shit about me or what I’ve been through. So in the future, please refrain from doing me any more favors. I don’t need you or anyone else to feel sorry for me.”
“Living on the streets is not a good life, Addison. And I don’t feel sorry for you. I’m giving you a chance. One that you never had.”
“Some chance.”
“I admit, it’s going to be an adjustment for everyone, but in the end you’ll be fine.”
“Keep telling yourself that. Did you know your son has all the symptoms of a sociopath? I looked them up. He should be in an institution.”
“Jackson’s a lot like you, his mother died in a very…traumatic accident.”
“Which he thinks you cause.”
The look on his face silenced me. “You need to be more compliant, and maybe things will settle down.”
“So says everyone.” I swallowed. "Or maybe he'll kill me."
We drove in silence for a few minutes, and guilt washed over me for the second time that day. Maybe I needed to chill out. He was giving me a ride home. The least I could do was be nice. “So why are you really out here? Are you stalking me like your son?”
He sighed, “My youngest son was kicked out of his boarding school, and I was looking into Briarwood. I had a meeting with Dean Marshall at 5:30 p.m.”
“I’m sorry.” I stole another glance at him. My heart skipped a beat.
“Uh…that’s all right. I can have my secretary reschedule.” He flashed me a quick smile. I turned away, feeling the heat rush to my face. Geez!
We were stopped at a light, and he was staring at me again. I couldn’t think straight. I took a deep breath and tried to relax. When that didn’t work, I closed my eyes and listened to the soft jazz music. The stress and fatigue must have caught up with me because I quickly drifted off into la la land.
I jerked awake when something touched my leg. Mr. Van Buren was inches from my face. He slowly reached down and grabbed my satchel at my feet. He smelled like cigars and citrus. The scent was intoxicating. I licked my lips. Kiss me. Instead his hand grazed my knee.
“You’re home,” he said, not taking his eyes off of me.
“Thank you,” I said, but it came out like a whisper.
Out of nowhere I felt the urge to kiss him, but he leaned back in his seat and shifted uncomfortably. Taking in my surroundings, I realized that I was indeed at the end of my driveway. I found my voice. “Thank you, again.”
“I thought it would be best if I dropped you off down here, so I wouldn’t have to ask Stuart why he didn’t pick up his beautiful daughter.” He grinned at me as though we shared a big secret.
“I’m not beautiful.” As I opened the car door, I hesitated. “Is there something else I can do to get out of this contract?”
He looked at me, questioning, and then smiled. “I never break a contract I write. It’s bad business.” The confident expression of ownership on his face gave me chills. I left without another word.
When I stomped into the house, everyone was in the dining room eating.
“About time you showed up,” Stuart said, strolling into the hall to greet me.
“Yeah, I would have been here sooner, except someone forgot to pick me up.”
“Oh, I thought…” He stared over his shoulder at Petra, who pretended not to see him. “I’m sorry about that. Why don’t you come join us?”
“I would rather choke on a bone.” I plodded upstairs.
If I could make things extremely uncomfortable between Jackson and his father, then maybe they would forget about this whole arranged marriage. I sat down at my desk and started my homework.
When I was finished, I took a jog on the treadmill to relax, since I was grounded. I had to figure out what my next move was. My feet pounded the machine's track while I pondered my choices.
“You like to run,” Stuart commented, when I was finished. I whirled around. He was standing in the doorway. How long had he been watching me?
Ignoring him, I went upstairs and fixed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
“I’ll make sure someone’s there to pick you up after school tomorrow. It was an oversight by Petra,” Stuart admitted, leaning on the counter.
“I know she doesn’t like me.”
“No, she just doesn’t know you.”
“Whatever. I don’t like her or you.” I put away the peanut butter, and he was gone. Homework was waiting.
Just before midnight, I finally crawled into bed. This schedule was a killer, and it would take all of my concentration to catch up on the missed work. As I settled into my pillows, my phone rang. Someone must have picked it up and put it on my desk, which was where I found it. There were thirteen messages from Jackson, all of them threatening and angry because I hadn't responded. So I called him back. I had no idea what time it was in Milan, and I didn’t care. Maybe he would like a taste of his own medicine!
He answered on the second ring. “Now you call. What do you want?”
“I left my phone on my desk.”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
“Believe what you want, Jackson, and what was that crap this morning? I didn’t deserve that.”
He blew his nose. He sounded stuffy, like he had been crying. “I told you to get up and work out and you didn’t, so I had to resort to extreme measures.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Oh and are you telling people we're dating? I had a lovely encounter from that Carli chick.”
“I’m not telling anyone anything. No one needs to know our business.”
“Exactly. Just making sure we’re on the same page.”
“So, what did you think of your first day?”
“Briarwood? It was school. In fact, I just finished my homework.” Truth be told, it was fantastic. I loved the pace, the books, and even the know-it-all teachers. “So, where are you again?”
“On my way home.”
“If I wake up at 5:30 and jog will that suffice?” I don’t know why I was asking his permission.
“Of course.”
“Good night, Jackson.”
“'Night, Addiso
n.”
Why did I even call him?
The next morning I went jogging before class and still managed to make it to the bathroom first again. I had to admit it was easier already knowing what I was going to wear. I remembered to grab my phone this time and went downstairs.
“Here.” Stuart met in the foyer with a glass of orange juice. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”
“So, who brought you home yesterday?” he asked as he pulled out of the driveway.
“Mr. Van Buren.”
He stopped the car. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I had been walking for about an hour, and he said he was on his way to talk to Dean Marshall about enrolling his son in Briarwood or something.”
“Really?” He shifted the car into gear, and we rolled forward.
“Yep.” I drained the juice before it ended up all over my uniform.
“Well, as much as I’d love to believe you, I don’t. Both of his sons are already enrolled in Briarwood Junior high. If you want to lie, Addison, you’re going to have to come up with a better one that that.”
“I’m not lying. That’s what he told me.”
“What really happened? Did some boy bring you home? I know you and Jackson are hooking up. Just so you know, I don’t approve.”
“Like I had a choice and since when do you care?” I growled, feeling the rage course through my veins. I would show him. I yanked out my cell phone and called Jackson.
“Who are you calling this early?” Stuart demanded.
“Sunshine,” Jackson answered.
“Don’t 'sunshine' me. Let me speak to your father.”
The phone went silent. At first I thought he’d hung up.
“Good morning, Addison. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Mr. Van Buren said calmly.
“You’re in Milan too? Great.” I muttered.
“I typically accompany my son on business, but no he’s home. Now what do you want?” He said.
“Would you inform my father that you gave me a ride, yesterday?”
Stuart leaned toward me, his face reddening with anger. “What? You have his personal number?”
Mr. Van Buren remained cool and unflappable. “Now you know I can’t do that. It would make me look… suspicious. And the mere fact that you’re talking to me probably has your father in an uproar. So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to tell him Jackson picked you up from school. He was in the area, and I don’t want to hear any more about this. I don’t need to reiterate how inappropriate it is for you to be calling me. Do we have an understanding?”
“No, asshole, we don’t have an understanding on anything.” I hung up the phone. I couldn’t believe the nerve of him. What was the big fricken deal? He gave me a ride home; it wasn’t like we had sex or anything.
“Did you…did you just call my boss an asshole?” Stuart screamed.
“Yes, and he’s a bigger dick than you.”
“You are so grounded, young lady; he’s going to fire me.”
“He is not.”
“I can’t believe you. You do not go around calling people bad names. It’s inappropriate. Didn’t your mother teach you anything? If I still have a job when I get home, we’re getting you a first class ticket to boarding school.”
“Oh joy. I can’t wait.” At least it would be away from the Van Burens. I threw my phone out my window. I didn’t need it anyway.
“Why did you do that? That phone wasn’t free.”
“I never wanted it anyway.”
“We’re done!” He thumped his steering wheel in frustration a few times. I moved closer to the door, ready to jump out if he tried to hit me.
Then his phone rang. The conversation consisted of a lot of “uh -hum’s” and “yah.” Somebody—probably Van Buren—was giving Stuart a good talking to. Stuart’s face lightened each time he agreed, shifting from a furious crimson to his normal self. When he pulled to a stop in front of Briarwood, he hung up, turned toward me, and locked the doors. Apparently I wasn’t going anywhere.
Carli was waiting in her cheerleading uniform out by the curb, and she approached our car.
“Can I go now?” I asked.
“I’ll be here after school to pick you up. I have court, so I might be late. I would have send you a text, but since your phone is lying somewhere on the side of the road you can call me. You have my number.”
“Yes, so did he admit he took me home?”
“Uh…yah he did, but that doesn’t change things. You’re still grounded.”
“You’re such a fascist.”
“Do you even know what that word means?”
I rolled my eyes and reached for the door handle, but Carli was too close for me to get out of the car. She bent over and tapped on the glass, smiling. Stuart and I both received a good view of her cleavage.
Stuart lowered the window.
“Hi, I’m Carli, captain of the cheerleading team and hopefully, your daughter’s newest friend.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Your father’s Carl Seymour, CEO of the Minish Firm?” he asked.
“That would be him. Are you ready for another day at Briarwood, Addison?” she said to me.
I glanced at Stuart, who was smiling like an idiot, and then looked back at her. “Yeah sure…”
“I gather you're Addison’s father, but we haven’t been formally introduced. You are?” She fished for information while resting her sun-kissed arms on the window frame of the car.
“Stuart McDaniel. Yes, I’m Addison’s father.”
“Nice to meet you, Stuart. I hope to be seeing more of you.” She batted her eyelashes. I wanted to vomit.
“I’m out.” I opened the door, forcing Carli to jump back.
“Don’t forget to phone me, Addison,” Stuart called.
“Whatever.” I walked away from the car. Carli said goodbye and ran up behind me.
“What do you want?” I questioned before she could say anything.
She brushed a stray hair away from her face. “There’s no need for hostility. I know you’re new around here, so I was just being nice.”
“You and what welcome committee?”
“Huh?”
I rolled my eyes and started walking.
“I meant what I said yesterday. I’ll stay out of your way.”
She laughed, and I stopped. “How cute, but no, seriously. I was thinking we should most definitely be friends, plus I’m scouting for new ones anyway. Being that my former ones don’t understand the meaning of loyalty,” she said as the group of girls she was hanging out with yesterday joined us.
“Trying to find a new clone, Carli?” attacked the red-head I had sat next to yesterday in English.
“Never,” she said. The girls walked away laughing. I stole a look at Carli as an evil grin appeared on her face. “They’ll be expelled by the time the first bell rings. That will teach them to mess with me.” She turned back to me like nothing had just happened.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Part of me wanted to ask her what she meant, but before I could, two police cars pulled to a stop in front of the school and three policemen exited the cars. They approached her ex-friends with extreme caution. I noticed their hands on their weapons, as if the girls were going to magically sprout wings and fly away. Within seconds, the girls were cuffed and lying face down on the ground, while the cops went through their belongings.
I glanced at Carli, who kept a blank expression on her face, even though her eyes were light and happy. I didn’t say anything, still floored that she’d called the cops on those girls because they didn’t want to be her friend. Who did that?
“What’s going on?” Kristin asked as she walked up to us.
“They were planning on blowing up the library,” Carli said in a voice that made it sound as if it were yesterday’s news. She latched onto my arm and dragged me through the onlookers. “So where were we?” she asked when we were alone.
“The part where you tell me why yo
u’re stalking me.”
“I’m not stalking you. I have a class across from yours.”
“I’m not doing your homework or running errands for you.”
She laughed and leaned in. “I have a 3.5 GPA, I'm class president, and I have a personal assistant to do all my errands for me. You’re so cute!” We turned into the main hall. I was vaguely aware that Kristin was walking silently behind us. “No, what I’m looking for is a real friend.”
“What makes you think I would be a good friend?”
“Kristin,” she called and Kristin froze, but then rushed to her other side. “Kristen’s informed me that you’re very honest and trustworthy. I need someone I can trust. I can trust you, can’t I?”
I didn’t answer, because I didn’t want to be her friend. Another small group of students passed us. They all said hi to Carli. This girl was like a celebrity.
“Good,” she said as we continued to class. “First order of business--”
“You don’t waste any time, do you?” I commented.
“Your hair. You need a headband or something. It’s too bland.”
“I like my hair the way it is.”
“Okay, then makeup. I noticed you don’t wear any. We’ll pick up some after school.”
“I don’t like makeup.”
“Next, would it kill you to be a little nicer to people, because--”
“I have class.” I cut her off and tugged Kristin after me.
“What was that all about?” I asked Kirstin, who was grinning like a clown.
“Do you know how long I have been waiting for this?” she shrieked, causing everyone to stare at us.
‘Chill out.” I snapped at her as I slid into an empty seat. She sat next me and spent the hour nudging me and passing me stupid notes. It was obviously impossible for her to act normal. All through class, she made a huge deal about Carli talking to us. As it turned out, Kristin had spent a big chunk of her adolescence waiting on the sidelines for a chance to hang out with this superficial queen. So I decided if Carli was set on me being her friend, then I would comply only if Kristin was in as well. At least one of us would be happy.
After class Carli was waiting for me and showed me a text message from one of her many suitors. If she was trying to get a reaction out of me, I let her down. I didn’t care what she received on her phone. She walked Kristin and me to our next class, then left.