“As I’m sure he’d love to meet you,” Fey replies. I notice that she’s picked up the card, even though Thalia hasn’t released her grip.
“But seriously,” Jeremy says. “Call my wedding planner.” He looks over and smiles at me. “Seeing Lilly in a bridesmaid’s dress might give me some unintended inspiration.”
***
The rest of brunch goes by without a hitch. I’d been wrong before. I didn’t have to be cold and distant to make it through the meeting. In fact, most of it was spent reminiscing about old times.
Jeremy’s humor and inherent charisma also came through. He shone in the moment just as much as he had last night, on stage. By the end of it all, the last traces of Thalia’s hostility had vanished.
Afterwards, when we’ve all said goodbye, and I reaffirm my promise to Fey to keep in touch, I feel light as a butterfly. I’ve just spent a magnificent few hours with an old friend, with Jeremy Stonehart at my side, and nothing at all has gone wrong. It’s been light, breezy, and fun. My earlier trepidation about it had been all for naught.
“Come here,” Jeremy says when we reach our car. He pulls me into him and surprises me with a warm, passionate kiss. “You were wonderful,” he says. He lifts his shades so that I can see his eyes. The smile that’s on his lips extends to them, making the corners crinkle and making him look so very human. So very accessible.
“You weren’t bad yourself,” I counter. “You know, there were a few times, especially at the start, when I thought we’d get a showing of your temper.”
“Temper?” Jeremy sounds amused. “What temper?”
“Don’t tease.” I slap his arm. I feel like spinning and laughing. The sun is shining. I’ve re-established ties with Fey, and I’ve just been the recipient of a toe-curling kiss.
Suddenly a shadow clouds his eyes. “Lilly,” he says seriously. “You know that this was a one-time occurrence. Even though you were perfect, I can’t risk meetings like that again.”
My spirit falls. “I know,” I say softly.
“It’s not . . . It’s not because of you,” he growls. “You’ve proven to me time and again that I am right to trust you. It’s because of me. As you learned last night, Stonehart Industries is going public. Everything I do is scrutinized. I was able to arrange that enough of my men were present at the café to ward off problems—”
“Wait! What?” I stop him. “What do you mean, ‘your men’?”
“Security, Lilly.” He frowns. “Surely you don’t think I can go out in public without security!"
I feel an uncomfortable itch between my shoulder blades. “We were being watched?” I hiss.
“Yes,” Jeremy says. “Don’t tell me you take offense!”
“Take offense? Take offense? Hah!” I scoff. I look around the street, feeling a lot like a tiny fly caught in an invisible web. “Of course I don’t take offense, Jeremy,” I say sarcastically. “Why, what’s a little more invasion of my privacy at this stage of the game, anyway? It’s not like there’s anything about me that hasn’t been laid bare.”
“Lilly, stop,” Jeremy commands. “You’re being histrionic.”
I step around him and fling open the car door. I’ve come to accept that I cannot have any secrets from you, Jeremy. But, taking away Fey and Thalia’s privacy, too? That’s what has me so riled up. “Let’s get out of here,” I spit, and slam the door shut.
Jeremy stalks around the front of the car and gets in. I shove my seat belt angrily into its holster. It doesn’t fit. I try again, jabbing it into the slot once, and again, and again, and again, and again.
“Here,” Jeremy says, reaching over to help. “Let me get that.”
“I can do it!” I explode. I keep trying, but the damned thing just won’t go in.
“Lilly.” Jeremy takes my hand. I try to jerk away. But, he has an iron grip. “You’re ruining the vehicle.”
“I don’t care!” I cry out. I feel tears of anger and frustration building in my eyes. Why can’t I do it? Damn it! It’s such a simple, stupid thing!
With all the force I can muster, I rip my hand from Jeremy’s. Pain shoots through my shoulder. “Fuck!” I curse. It feels like a sprain. I rub at it vigorously with my other hand, seat belt forgotten, the injury worsening my already-foul mood.
“Lilly—”
“Just go!” I say. “Go. Take me back to the room. Have ‘your men’ follow us. See if I care.”
He just looks at me. He makes no indication of starting the engine, or driving us back, or anything of the sort.
“Well?” I scowl. The pain is working its way up my neck and down my arm. “What are you waiting for? Go! Take me back to the prison where I’ll know, at least, that my every action isn’t being scrutinized by invisible watchers.”
“You’re overreacting.”
I bark a near-hysterical laugh. “No, Jeremy. I’m not. You’re under reacting. Don’t you think it’s a little, oh, I don’t know, outside of regular decorum to plant spies at a meeting that was supposed to be strictly casual?”
His jaw tightens. “If you knew the lengths I went to, to get those men there,” he begins.
“Oh, and now you want me to be thankful?” I spit. “You want me to say ‘Thank you, Jeremy, for having your goons watch over us?’ Well, tough fucking luck. You’re not going to get that from me. No way. No how.”
“Having the cafe secure was essential to our meeting Thalia and Fey,” he says softly. There’s an undercurrent of impatience in his voice, which, if I were in a more reasonable state of mind, I would do well to heed.
I don’t and I won’t. I refuse to stand on pins and needles around Jeremy Stonehart any longer. I’d go crazy if I had to keep second-guessing every minute action. I’m already committed to him, bound inextricably to the enigma of the man. And he’s bound to me. If I risk evoking some of his displeasure by acting this way, so be it. He’s already done his worst, and I’ve survived it—twice. Right now, it’s doing immense things to my psyche not to feel so restrained around him.
“If I couldn’t arrange for it in time, you would have never seen your college roommate. I think, Lilly,” he emphasizes the word with a low growl, “that I deserve some appreciation for that. This type of bratty attitude will make me think hard about letting you go on similar outings in the future.”
“Outings where every step I take is being watched, every word I say probably recorded, is that right?” I give up on the trying to ease my shoulder pain and, instead, jam both hands in my armpits, crossing my arms and staring straight ahead. “Even without the brooch, or the collar, I’m still your prisoner. You did a fine job reminding me of that today.”
“Dammit, Lilly! Don’t go there,” Jeremy warns.
“Or what? Or you’ll leave me in the dark again? Let’s see how far your sentiment of affection really goes, Jeremy. You say you love me? You say you trust me? I say, ‘Prove it.’” I turn my head and stare out the window. I catch my own reflection in the mirror. I can’t believe how angry I look.
I’ve never had a temper. I’ve never been overly emotional. I’ve never succumbed to tears on the spot, or exploded after seeing red, or had anything trigger me past the level, collected woman I once was.
Somewhere along the way, with Jeremy, that’s changed. And I hate how susceptible I’ve become to my emotions. These types of mood swings are starting to mirror Jeremy’s personality shifts. That, in itself, is enough to piss me off. The fact that I am helpless to stop it, that I don’t even know why it’s happening, makes it worse.
What happened to the college undergrad who prided herself on understanding people? What happened to the girl who knew how to tackle all the bad shit that inherently came with the territory of having an alcoholic mother? What happened to the determined, ambitious, fresh-eyed, young woman ready to tackle the world?
Jeremy Stonehart happened. That’s what. Around him, I’m unable to control my emotions. I’m unable to control my body. I should feel nothing but repulsion and hatre
d and disgust for the man. That would make things simple. That would help me act the part I need to take him down.
But I don’t possess any of that indifference. In fact, even angry as I am right now, I don’t feel any of that rage directed towards him. It is channeled more toward the situation in which I find myself. A situation that I’m helpless to change
“Lilly …” Jeremy says. His voice has turned soft. Mellow. It kindles unwanted feelings of warmth in my stomach.
I try to shut them off. But, I can’t. They mix with all the other emotions I’m feeling to create a scrambled cacophony that I’m too weary to dissect.
“Just drive,” I say. My voice hitches. I do not look at him. “Please, Jeremy. Just get out of here.”
***
We arrive at the hotel after getting stuck in traffic for nearly an hour. Apparently, a single accident is enough to stall movement on the roads when there isn’t a viable emergency-response system in place. We spend the entire wait in silence.
If being delayed like this annoys Jeremy, he doesn’t let it show. I guess, technically, he is still on vacation. He has dedicated the time to spend with me.
For that, I should be thankful. I know who he is. I know how important and busy he is. In spite of all that’s happened, in spite of the circumstances of our lives crashing together, I am aware of how valuable his time is.
Am I taking it all—the money, the clothes, the lavish hotel suites and private jets and expensive cars—for granted? Would somebody be justified in saying that I’ve been spoiled?
No. Not if they knew of the circumstances that brought me here.
Jeremy parks the Bentley underground and escorts me up. We use the normal elevator, just like normal people. In fact, at one point, a couple much like us—an older man with a younger woman—enters the elevator and shares the enclosed space for a few stories. I notice the man shamelessly eyeballing me, his wife or girlfriend in total oblivion. Jeremy sees it, too, and tightens his grip on my waist. Then he steps between us, breaking my line of sight. He doesn’t say anything. But the expression on his face must be enough to scare the man off because he—too casually—hits the button for the next floor and pulls his woman off in advance of their original destination.
“Escort,” Jeremy says under his breath when the doors close. “And he probably thought you were one, too.”
You’ve paid $180,000 to fuck me, I think to myself. Clearly, my sour mood has yet to dissipate. Is there really that much of a difference?
We reach our level. The doors open. It’s just a few short steps down the hall to the suite. Jeremy swipes the entrance card, and the cool air-conditioned air crashes into me the moment I walk in.
“Damn! That’s cold,” Jeremy grumbles. “I should have adjusted it before we left.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I break away from him and head towards the bedroom. All I want to do is lie down.
“How is your shoulder?” Jeremy asks.
I sniff. “I’m surprised you noticed.”
“I notice everything when it comes to you,” he says.
If this is his attempt to get back in my good graces, he’s got a long, hard road ahead of him.
“I’m going to take a nap,” I announce.
“Now?” Jeremy asks. “This is our last full day here, Lilly. We leave tomorrow. I was hoping to spend it more productively, with you.”
“Yeah, well I’m tired,” I retort, plopping a pillow over my eyes. “You’re free to fuck me while I’m asleep if you want. You had no qualms about doing it before.”
“FUCK, LILLY!” He roars. The full sound of his voice makes me jolt upright. “What has gotten into you? I’m trying, goddammit, to keep myself in check. But, you’re making it damned difficult.” He paces away from me, to the doorway. He holds himself against it for a second or two, and then turns back. His face is a mask of icy calm. But, his eyes are storming.
Shit! I think. Now I’ve gone and done it. I’ve pushed too far. I’m an idiot for taking too many liberties around him.
“I am trying, Lilly,” he stresses, “to act the way I’m supposed to. Tell me—” he takes a controlled, deep breath, and finishes on the exhale, “—what I did wrong.”
“Nothing,” I say quickly. “It’s not you. It’s me. I’m being stupid. Bratty. You were right before.”
“You’re lying,” he says. “I know when you don’t tell the truth, Lilly. I’ve had years of experience reading people. Don’t play games with me. Tell me what’s really wrong. Is it the café? Is that really what had you so amped up? Or is something else? Something I told you this morning?”
“It has nothing to do with this morning,” I concede. I bite my lip. “It’s just… you had the café watched, Jeremy. Doesn’t that strike you as a little extreme? Doesn’t that strike you as somewhat odd?”
“So, it is about that.” He sighs. He comes over and sits at the foot of the bed. His back is straight and his shoulders wide as he twists around to look at me. “Look, Lilly. Nothing about who I am or what I do can be considered ‘normal’. Not in the sense that you see it. Things that are normal, expected, regular for everyday people hold no meaning for me.
“My life has been built around privacy. I told you that. I told you about the stalkers. What I didn’t tell you about, what I never wanted to tell you about, at least, not until you were ready, are the attempts that have been made on my life.”
I sit up, giving him my full attention. “Someone tried to kill you?” I ask.
He laughs. “More than once. It comes with the territory. When you’re in a position of power, as I am, there are always going to be threats that regular people never face.”
“When?” I ask, almost breathless.
“Last time? Nearly two years ago. No, wait—less than that. At the start of March, 2012. I was on a trip to Brazil to visit some real estate developments Stonehart Industries had a share in commissioning. The problem was: that same land previously belonged to a powerful drug cartel. They were using it as a secondary base for their operations. Obviously, I did my due diligence and knew about the threat. But I didn’t expect them to strike in public.
“I was being chauffeured together with the mayor when a Jeep rammed into us. A gang of bikers surrounded the car. They started firing automatics in the middle of a busy street.”
I look at him with a newfound respect. “And you survived?”
“Survived, and had every one of those mother fucking bastards killed,” he says. I scoot away. Jeremy, ordering a hit? I guess it shouldn’t surprise me. But, I thought he said he wasn’t a murderer!
Maybe it’s different when you have somebody else do it for you.
He notices my sudden trepidation. “Not like that, Lilly,” he hedges. “I provided additional funds to the police force to track the members of the cartel down. They were all... how should I put this for you… highly unsavory people. There was a bust. A gunfight broke out. There was military involved, and the national force and… well, I won’t bore you with the details. Suffice it to say that justice was ultimately done.”
“But back to the first shooting. As I said, I wasn’t alone in the car. The mayor of the city was there with me. His presence should have been enough to deter the incident. Going after government officials is a sure-fire way to rocket to the top of the priority list.”
“I survived, Lilly, because I was inside an armored car. Couple that with some quick-thinking from the driver, and the rapid deployment of my own security force, who’d been tailing us the whole time. The end result was: both the mayor and I got out alive.”
“Wow,” I breathe. “I never . . . Jeremy, I never expected . . . ”
“I know you don’t,” he says. “There’s a dark side to every business, Lilly. When you’re at the top of the totem pole, all those below you will try to bring you down. What you hear about in the news—aggressive mergers, stock buyouts, lawsuits and counter suits over indefinable intellectual property . . . that’s just the tip of the iceb
erg. It’s just a hint of the kind of hostility a conglomerate like Stonehart Industries attracts. And, by extension,” he smiles, “those are the hostilities that I attract.”
“You said there were more?” I ask.
He makes a flippant gesture. “Nothing to rival 2012. A few left-wing nut jobs decided to take offense at some trumped up environmental transgression they accused my company of. All baseless, of course. But, that doesn’t stop them from trying to take out their anger on me. ‘Cut off the head’ they think, ‘And the rest of the body will crumble.’”
He laughs. “Even if one of them did manage to kill me, Stonehart Industries would continue operating without a hitch. I have capable men in place ready for my succession, should the need arise…” He twists his lips. “…prematurely”
I swallow hard. He has contingencies in place in case of his death? What chance do I really have, then, of bringing him down?
He mistakes my pallor for concern. “Don’t worry,” he assures me. “None have gotten close enough to do me any serious harm. In fact, the only person that I need to watch out for…” his eyes gleam at me. Within them, I see a spark of that brilliant intuition that got him where he is today, “… is you.”
Chapter Five
Jeremy looks at me from over the screen of his laptop. “We need to talk about Fey,” he says.
We’re high in the air in one of his private jets, heading back to California. Our time in the sun is over. Tomorrow—or heck, maybe today—signifies Jeremy’s return to the real world, and to Stonehart Industries.
Our final day in the Caribbean was spent in a similar fashion to the last few days we had on his private island. That is, the entire time, I had only Jeremy.
Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) Page 49