“And then?”
“And then… then, the true transformation began. But that is no longer my story to tell. I’m sorry, Lilly.” He looks sad.
“Are you kidding me? Don’t apologize!” I exclaim. I’m bubbling with excitement. “Charles, you’ve given me so much. I could kiss you!”
He breaks out in a smile and points to his cheek, eyes glittering. I take the hint, laughing as I give him a big old smooch.
Chapter Nine
We chat for another hour or so about trivialities. Then I leave Charles to his work. I think I’ve given Rose sufficient time to cool down after her explosion this morning. I want to talk to her, to get to the bottom of things, before Jeremy comes home.
But I don’t find her anywhere in the mansion. I search high and low, even going so far as to knock on the doors of Jeremy’s office—which are locked, of course—and calling out her name. There is no response.
I find Charles right where I left him and ask if he’s seen her since we talked. He shakes his head “No.”
I go into one of the rooms facing the ocean and look out the window. Heavy cloud cover blocks the sun. The dull morning gray makes it look like it’s about to start raining at any time.
I wander to the sunroom, making a note of how eerily empty it feels now that all my old furnishing have been removed. I pick out a fleece from the racks in the closet—well, it’s more of a super-expensive trench coat than a fleece. I dislike paying too much attention to such things. I hitch it over my shoulders, and step outside.
When the fresh air hits my face, the sensation is liberating in a way I could have never imagined. The freedom to be able to go outside without the worry of being shocked, or of accidentally triggering the collar by overstepping an invisible boundary is worth its weight in gold. How many people out there take their ability to leave the house whenever they want for granted? After all I’ve gone through, I will never do that again.
I know that Rose and Charles both live on the property. So, if Rose is hiding from me, there is only one place else she can be: the guest house.
I start in its general direction. I don’t know exactly where it is. Because the estate being so large, angling even a few degrees off I could miss it entirely. But, I’m determined to do my best. Besides, the paths through the trees give me some clue.
I take my time strolling towards it, enjoying the silence and solemnity of the great evergreens. I still have hours before Jeremy gets back, so there’s no rush. He didn’t explicitly tell me to wait for him. But, after what happened once before when I missed him, I don’t want to push my luck—freedoms or no.
I come to the clearing and pause at the edge of trees. This is the spot that, last time, initiated that warning tickle beneath my ear. The guesthouse had been off-limits. Why? And why did I find out about the boundary only by nearly overstepping it? Why had Jeremy not told me about it?
All of that builds the mystery in my head. I feel my curiosity piquing. I touch the smooth, empty skin of my neck, smile a little, and start toward the front door.
I look through the windows on my way there, trying to get a little peek inside. What I see is all ordinary. Well, ordinary for someone used to wealth and riches. The furniture and paintings that I glimpse are of exactly the same caliber as what is contained within the mansion. They cannot be affordable on a simple housemaid’s salary, even if you throw Charles’s income into the mix.
It seems working for Jeremy Stonehart comes with its share of material perks.
I hit the buzzer and wait. Then do it again.
There is no answer.
I try knocking instead. The house might be empty—for all I know, Rose could have returned to the mansion while I was walking through the woods—but I won’t give up by turning away now.
“Rose?” I call out, cupping my hands around my mouth. “Are you in there?”
The only sound to greet me is the rustle of the wind through the trees.
I feel my agitation with Rose growing. Why did the woman run away from me the way she did this morning? Why is she so keen on hiding now?
I jab a finger against the doorbell, again and again and again. I can hear the chiming from inside the house. If Rose is in there—and I suspect she is—she can’t claim she didn’t hear me. She is definitely hiding.
As a desperate last resort, I place one hand on the handle and give it a push.
To my surprise, the door clicks open.
“What the…?” Gently, I push the door forward. It swings inward and gives me access to the house.
I stand there, on the threshold, momentarily stunned. I remember Jeremy’s own rule: You are allowed through any door you find unlocked.
Surely, when he told me that, he was only thinking of the doors inside his mansion.
I hesitate. Walking in now would be trespassing. I’d be invading Rose’s and Charles’s private space.
The irony of that thought makes me give a sudden, sour laugh. I’m worried about invading someone else’s privacy, after everything that’s been done to me? After everything I newly suspect of Rose?
I might not find her inside. But, I know I won’t be able to stop thinking about this house if I leave it unexplored.
“Sorry, Charles,” I mutter under my breath, and step inside.
The interior mirrors Jeremy’s mansion, on a slightly smaller scale. The ceiling isn’t quite as high, and the walls aren’t quite so spread apart. But otherwise, it’s more or less identical.
“Rose?” I call out again. My voice echoes through the empty halls. “Rose, you left the front door open. I don’t know if you’re in here or not, but I’m coming in!”
I wait for a reply, counting slowly to five. Getting none, I proceed.
I pass through the living room. Everything is neat and orderly. There isn’t any clutter anywhere. It reminds me a lot of the way Charles keeps the kitchen.
Unlike the sterility of Jeremy’s manor, though, I do find signs of habitation here. A few folded throws beside the couch: A newspaper creased in two on the coffee table, a cable box in a console beneath the TV, with one tiny LED flashing red with a recording.
The guesthouse feels… quite ordinary. As I walk through the kitchen, careful not to touch anything, I can’t help but feel a little disappointed.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Rose and Charles seem to lead normal lives—if their home is any indication.
I end up at the stairs. I place a hand on the railing and pause before climbing them. “Rose?” I say. “Last chance. If you’re up there, you’d better tell me now.”
As expected, I’m greeted by silence.
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter, and start to climb.
It’s a little annoying not to have come across anything in the house that would explain it being outside of my previous boundaries. Maybe the explanation is as simple as Jeremy not wanting me to stumble upon Rose and Charles outside their professional roles. Maybe he put the boundary there just to keep me more isolated.
Maybe. Though, knowing Jeremy, I know that things are never quite what they seem. I see a disquieting pattern forming: Blind exploration of a house has not ever led me to anything interesting or useful.
Maybe I’m expecting too much. It’s not like I’m a forensics expert or anything.
I snort a laugh. No! That I am definitely not. I’m not even a college graduate, for crying out loud.
Shit. The thought of college sends an unexpected pang of longing through me. I sit down in the middle of the stairs.
Nostalgia for Yale hits me hard. I miss college. I miss my classes. Hell, I even miss the New Haven winter.
I miss intellectually-stimulating discussions with my peers and professors. I miss—and I never thought I’d say this when I was there—having real, thought-provoking work to do. Work that pushes the boundaries of my mind. Work that makes me think, and consider, and be exposed to problems from all sorts of different fields.
The only type of mental exercise I’ve
had here came from the books in Jeremy’s library. And most of them are fiction. The ones that aren’t are classics I’ve already read.
I don’t just want to read. I don’t want to just consume. I want to create.
Being pitted in this relationship with Jeremy Stonehart… fighting him, while simultaneously resisting… plotting my revenge, yet letting my emotions for the man take over… losing myself to him, experiencing the highs he brings me, surviving the lows… all of that is a challenge. All that defines my life. But, I need something else.
I need an outlet. Not a hobby! It’s not like I’m about to pick up sketching, or scrapbooking, or something as pedestrian as that. Those are meant to make you relax. I need something stimulating. Something that will make me think. Something that will take my thoughts away from Jeremy Stonehart for a time.
I know that I’m bound to him far, far into the foreseeable future. He has to pay for what he did to me; what he did to my father. All those unanswered questions at the back of my mind—the most prevalent, most grating, and one that I’m starting to think I’ll never get the answer to being, ‘Why me?’—they aren’t going away. But obsessing over them with no new information is futile. It’s insanity. It’d be me going round and round in circles.
I bite my lip, growing more and more annoyed with myself. The meeting with Fey—damn, I should have approached it differently. I should have talked to her about Yale, about her classes, about all the things I miss. Even with Jeremy there, those would have been safe topics.
“God! I’m so stupid, stupid, stupid!” I cry out, surging to my feet. How many missed opportunities have I had? How many—
“Lilly?” A female voice comes from above me. “What in God’s name are you doing here?”
I look up and see a white-robed Rose peering over the banister. She has a towel wrapped around her hair. Her skin is glistening with moisture from the shower.
“Looking for you,” I say, everything else forgotten. I start up the stairs. “Rose, we need to talk.”
She backs away, looking almost like a caged animal. “What are you doing in my house?” she demands. “Get out, Lilly! Get out!”
I stop. “Rose,” I say calmly. “I just want to talk. There’s nothing—”
“GET OUT!” she screams. “OUT! OUT! OUT!”
“Rose, I—”
“OUT!” She picks up a porcelain vase and pulls it behind her head. “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, LILLY! NOW!”
When I don’t immediately move, the vase comes hurtling through the air. I duck just in time to avoid being hit. It shatters against the wall with an enormous crash.
“OUT! OUT! OUT!” Rose screams.
I don’t need extra motivation. Before she can get her hands on anything else, I’m sprinting down the stairs and out the front door.
Chapter Ten
Anxious hours pass at the mansion. I’m full of nervous energy. I can’t sit still.
Rose’s reaction freaked me out. All I wanted to do was talk. She acted as if I had broken into her house with intentions to rob her.
I keep waiting for her to show up and apologize, or maybe explain to me what the hell is going on. But I know I hope in vain. Charles is here. However, I don’t want to trouble him with this. Despite all he shared, I don’t know whether his allegiance lies more with Jeremy or with Rose.
Jeremy is the person I need to speak to. He is master of this domain. He’s the only one who can tell me what’s going on.
I just hope that he does.
When I hear the limousine rolling up the driveway, I rush to the front door. Jeremy steps out, dressed immaculately, as always. He is the picture of a man in full control.
His eyes flicker to me. He leans into the car, says something to Simon, and then comes up the steps.
“Jeremy,” I say. “I’m so happy to see you. While you were gone—”
“I know what happened,” he says. “And I am very disappointed in you, Lilly.”
He steps around me, saying nothing more. I stare at his back in disbelief. He knows about what happened, and all he can say is that he’s disappointed?
I run to catch up. “If you know about what happened, then you can tell me…”
“I am not about to tell you anything,” he snaps. “I expect you to clear hostilities with Rose tomorrow. I won’t have disquiet in my house. Rose refused to come in tonight because you were here, and I need her around, Lilly. By this hour tomorrow, you will have mended things with her. Do you understand?”
“Yes. But, I don’t see why—”
“Do you understand me, Lilly?” He stops and gives me a hard look. “I hate repeating myself. I do not give you a lot of responsibilities. This is one thing I hope you can manage. You would not want to disappoint me twice in days. Do you hear me?”
I lower my head subserviently. “Yes, Jeremy.”
“Good.” He turns away. “I’ll be in my office for the remainder of the night. I want no interruptions. If I need you, I will call. So, keep yourself available.”
Frustration and agitation rise within me at being dismissed this way. But, I swallow those feelings. “Okay, Jeremy.”
He nods at me, already having mentally moved on. “Atta girl,” he says.
***
I spend the rest of the evening in the library, right beside Jeremy’s office, so that I can be close at hand.
He left his door slightly ajar. I can hear his voice from down the hall. Ever since he’s gone in there, it’s been a nonstop barrage of phone calls and conferences. From the sound of it, and from the irritated edge in Jeremy’s voice, things are not going well at the company.
I pick up some important tidbits that I am certain he means for me to overhear. The board is still as opposed to taking the company public as they were the day I briefly met them. But those are internal conflicts. On the outside, Stonehart Industries puts on a unified front.
Jeremy, of course, has majority power, so the board exists more or less only as an advisory committee. Once the company goes public, that will change. The executives will become accountable to shareholders. Jeremy’s power won’t be so absolute.
Perhaps the most important thing I discover is that there are factions forming within the company. Some of them intend to pool their resources to attempt a stock buyback shortly after the IPO.
Of course, he is aware of them. I doubt anything happens in the upper levels of Stonehart Industries without his knowledge. But the internal politicking is taking Jeremy’s attention away from more important matters, such as how to best position Stonehart Industries to maximize the share price before the IPO.
As his voice continues to boom from the down the hall, I find myself less and less interested in the book I’m reading and more and more interested in the things he’s saying. As before, I hear only one side of the conversations. But, I almost feel like some of the things Jeremy is saying… moreover, the way he’s saying them—spelling out the methodology behind his thinking step by step—is being done for my benefit. So that I can understand what’s going on. He certainly does not need to explain them in such detail to whoever is on the other line.
There’s more: Now that the news of the impending public offering has come out, Stonehart Industries are facing all sorts of scrutiny and pressure from the outside. Newspapers and media outlets are slamming the company for their secretive operations and trying their best to pick up dirt. Even hints of regulatory noncompliance, or—like that reporter who jumped us in front of the gala entrance—human rights violations are being deliberately exaggerated.
I wonder why Jeremy is letting me hear all these tidbits. He’s obviously aware that his door is open. Before, I felt like there was a clear divide between his professional role and his… ahem… personal life.
He’s always been mute about the inner workings of his company.
Maybe this is a further manifestation of the trust he’s started to talk about?
“Lilly!”
I look up, startled to hear my nam
e called out.
“Lilly, come here.”
I get up quickly and run down the hall. I stop at the entrance to his office.
“Yes?” I ask.
Jeremy is seated behind that massive desk. He’s loosened his tie and the top buttons of his shirt. The sleeves are rolled up, showing those powerful, tanned forearms.
“I want you to call Fey,” he says.
I blink, and then look at the time. This is not what I expected when I heard my name.
“It’s nearly midnight,” I say. “It’ll be close to 3 a.m. on the East Coast. It’s too late.”
“I’m aware of the time zone differences,” he says, giving me a cross look. “What you fail to recognize is that the school semester hasn’t started yet. Fey is in Oregon, with Robin, at his parents’ house.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “How do you know that?”
“I just do,” he snaps. “Dammit, Lilly! Don’t question me. I’ve had enough of that shit today. People everywhere second guessing my decisions, challenging my authority…” he emits a low, angry growl. “I swear to God, if the prospect of going public didn’t hold such appeal , I would have never done it. I’ve never dealt with so much unrest.”
“Then why do it?” I ask softly.
He chuckles. “Money, Lilly,” he says. “It’s all about money. Don’t you know? Money gives power, and power grants influence.”
I look at him. This must be a manifestation of the drive that got him here.
“How much more money do you need?” I ask.
“Always more,” he says. “It doesn’t matter how much I have. I’ve long since surpassed needing it for material things. But money is a measure of progress. Of success. If you’re not moving forward, you’re standing still, and the rest of the world passes you by. There is no such thing as enough. Money gives a man ambition. It gives him purpose.” He stops, and grunts. “Enough about me. Call Fey.”
Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) Page 53