“Your mother didn’t tell you I was picking you up?” he said with a sigh.
“No, she didn’t.” I stared down at the pattern on my skirt.
I felt his fingers slide above my ear making my skin crawl.
I jerked my head. “What are you doing?”
His face was blank. “You had a piece of fluff in your hair.” He gave me one of his Realtor-like, capped-toothed smiles, and slowly lowered his window and flicked out whatever he discovered in my hair. “There was something in your hair. You need to relax and stop being so uptight.”
I hunched my shoulders and crossed my arms, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Your mother is excited about her new car,” he said. “Did she tell you what I got for her?”
“She doesn’t need it,” I said.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “She’ll have whatever she wants. I’ll make sure of that. You can too.”
I tightened my jaw. “I don’t want anything from you.”
My mother drove up and stopped next to the car.
“You’re spoiling me,” she called out.
“Anything for my girls,” he said. She beamed at him, and my stomach churned.
“Piper? What do you think?” My mother called back.
“Talk to her when you get home,” Royce instructed.
I looked over and smirked at her little body behind the massive machine. “I still think it’s unnecessary.”
“Don’t mind her,” Royce said, smoothly. “Go and have fun with Gemma. We’ll see you later.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going out with Jorge,” I spoke up.
“Now Piper don’t—,” My mother said.
“Don’t worry,” Royce called back to her giving her a wave before closing the window. “Why do you have to be so difficult?” He let out a grunt.
“I’m not trying to upset you or my mother. I gave her my honest opinion. But as far as the Fitzsimmons party tonight, I’m still not going,” I replied.
We rode in silence for a few minutes as he drove onto the highway. “Is this about Chad?”
I kept focus on the passing traffic and didn’t answer.
“I told your mother you are well out of Chad Fitzsimons’s league. He wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you,” he said in a low tone.
I bristled. “And you would?”
“Yes. I believe I would,” he said matter-of-factly. “I have friends that I could introduce you to, and I know they would love to meet you.”
“I’ll find my own dates,” I said and turned on the radio.
He turned the radio back off. “Stop being childish. I’m trying to talk to you. You’ll be in my home for the summer, so you might as well put your issues with me aside. I want us to be friends. Can’t we, at least, try that for your mother?”
I took out my phone and looked through my contacts. “You’re my mother’s husband. I suppose we are friends.”
“But you’re not friendly to me,” he pointed out. “I need you to be friendlier for your mother’s sake. She worries so much about you.”
I sighed in exasperation. “I told her I would try.”
“Good girl,” he said with a lift in his tone and my stomach lurched. “Now. I heard about what happen with Loony—”
“Aunt Luna,” I corrected.
He laughed to himself then cleared his throat. “Did your mother tell you I have contacts at The Boston Globe?”
“No. Is there someone I should address to apply there?” I took out my notepad.
“You wouldn’t need to apply for anything. I’ll call them for you,” he offered.
I shook my head though my mind was screaming at me to take it. “That’s very kind of you, but it’s not necessary. I’ll find something.”
“I’m sure you will, but why make your life harder? Whatever job you want there, I’ll get them to give you. Say the word and it’s yours,” he said placing his hand on my knee. As quickly as I went to remove his hand, it was back on the wheel.
I glared over at his smug expression as he took the exit for Chestnut Hill. “Don’t touch me.”
“Why? I don’t mean any harm. It’s natural for me to talk with my hands,” he said.
“It makes me uncomfortable. I’ve told you before. And I don’t need your help with—”
“You really need to relax,” he said cutting me off. “The call is in, and the job offer stands, so think it over. You’re part of me now. And you’ll find being my friend comes with whatever you need. So stop saying no when you know you need to say yes. You don’t have to struggle anymore.”
I didn’t answer. I centered my attention on the beautiful homes that made up Harrington Estates in Chestnut Hill. They were the newest and by far the most affluent of Royce’s real estate and construction Company. They were uniform in their modular brick and stone masonry, Doric style columns along the front, large bay windows, and manicured lawns. The only variation found between them was whether the home had two or four car garages. Royce’s, the crowning home at the top of the hill, had four. I couldn’t deny its beauty or the look on my mother’s face when he brought us here for dinner. That was all he needed to do to win her over.
She wanted him and his life. We may not have had much before, but she’d had true love, Dad loved her passionately.
Glancing at Royce, who was smiling at me now, I sometimes wondered what my mother wanted more, him or the life? Sure, my mother cared for him, but I never saw the love or passion she showed my father. Even her hate for him, in the end, was passion driven. But she traded it in, or “up” as he put it, for this life. But even that came at a price. Hell, I may not know all about love, but I wanted real love and passion. I wanted the career too. I wanted it all. I just hoped to find both.
My mind stumbled back to the present as Royce popped the trunk. I got out of the car as the garage door moved back in place. I followed him inside and into the marble foyer.
“Dinner is in the fridge, or you can order in. Your mother moved you to the room upstairs next to ours.” He headed up the beige carpeted staircase.
I scolded as I stopped at the bottom. Why on earth did she do that? I took off my shoes, put down the tower of my desktop computer, and placed it by the side of the stairs to collect later. Picking up my trolley bag, I headed up the stairs, careful not to bump into the oak-framed photos along the wall, and carried it down the hallway to the open room next to the double doors of their master suite. Closing the bedroom door behind me, I quietly eased the lock in place and let out a breath.
The floral and oak-canopied queen size bed with matching oval-mirrored dresser and chest took up a large part of the room. It was as immaculate. The furnishings were the same as the room downstairs. While everything else was placed as they were in the other room, I noticed something was missing. I saw photos of my mother and Royce, and another of me at their reception, set in gold frames, but the photos of my father were gone.
I immediately dropped everything on the carpet and went through the dresser drawers in search of the photos. I finally found them in the last drawer at the bottom and took them out. The frames were silver, and one slightly dented, but they were, in my mind, perfect. They were three of my favorites: one of Star and Wheeler all “hippied out” in Candlestick Park in San Francisco. The second one was of me, aged five, on his lap. He was holding up his article on the Vietnam War that made it into Life and won him an award, not that he cared that much for winning. The final one was my all-time favorite though. It was of me as a little girl, holding onto the handlebars of his Harley with the two of them on the back smiling. When we were all happy.
Turning back to my trolley bag, I removed my laptop and placed it on the desk. I pulled back the floral curtains to look out of the bay window. The room had a view of the gazebo, garden, and pool. Pulling myself from the warmth of the rays, I immediately connected to the Wi-Fi and checked my online banking to assess my financial situation. I had been frugal most of the year, but I w
as going to be short of funds next semester if Aunt Luna didn’t return. My stomach knotted. I couldn’t exactly count on her. I needed a job, fast. I snatched my handbag from where I left it by the bed and pulled out my phone to call her. She answered on the first ring.
“I know you are upset with me about your summer break. I’m really sorry,” she said before I could say anything.
“I am. The tree farm bookkeeping and your blog were my summer job. I planned for it. I have a non-refundable round trip ticket to Los Gatos that I can’t afford to waste now.”
“I’ll pay for your ticket. I’ll send the money before I go tonight,” she assured.
I pulled the clip from my hair and let it tumble down my back. “I could still come. If you’re not going to be there, how about I house sit? I could work on—”
“You can’t,” she interjected. “I have the car, and you know how far out from town the farm is. You would be isolated, and it would cost you money just to get a taxi to get back from town. You could update my bookkeeping and Etsy blog from Royce’s house.”
“Not without access to your computer and files,” I reminded her. She was silent for a few moments.
“I want to fix this. How about you come out later in the summer? I’ll still send the cost of your ticket now and buy a round trip ticket when I return in five weeks. I promise. Then you can work the rest of the time, and I’ll give you a bonus. How does that sound?” Aunt Luna asked.
I bit the inside of my cheek. She was making more promises than she could possibly keep—something she had assured me she would stop doing. But I knew she was feeling guilty, and I didn’t want her to spend her time upset and worried about me. “That sound’s great. Thanks a lot.”
“Great. See, I told Star everything would work out. Or should I say, Ella, as she demands I call her now? She is really annoying,” she said drawing out her words. “I’m sorry, Pipes. I’ll make it up to you. I swear. I miss you.”
I sat down on the bed. “I miss you too.”
“What did you say?” she asked. I could hear someone else talking to her.
I raised my voice. “I miss you too. Have fun.”
“Thank you, we will. Talk to you soon.” We hung up, and I let out a groan as I went over my circumstances. Her covering my ticket would help. If she actually returned, I’d have a job for at least five weeks at the end of summer. I still needed a wow story, and I knew that wasn’t going to cut it. I went back to the desk and my laptop, and started looking online for internships and job opportunities. My eyes blurred as I saw what was before me. From what I could see, I didn’t have enough experience or skill set. I sent off my resume to a few job sites anyway.
What about Royce’s offer? No. I didn’t even want to think about the debt I’d be in with him for taking him up on it. Wiping my eyes, I looked out the window, noticing the darkened sky. I got up from my desk and collected my phone, considering canceling on Jorge. The soft, queen size bed looked so inviting, but I had given my word, and unlike Aunt Luna, I was going to stick to it. I brushed out my long blonde hair and put in leave-in conditioner. Turning my suitcase on its side, I found a pair of jeans and pink, V-neck top. The shade of light pink brought the woman at the gas station, named Seren, to mind. And Brody. My pulse sped up as I imagined seeing Brody at The Warehouse, and a tingle went through me. He had a wild sexiness to him, especially with the bold way he looked over my body as he held on to me; his sensual lips turned up in a grin. I wanted to feel those lips. Everywhere, I thought, wickedly, though I wasn’t all that experienced. The wildness in his eyes had me thinking he would have enough experience for the both of us.
I’m interested. And he seemed interested in me too. Well, until he saw my mother hand over her credit card. He looked at me like he wanted nothing to do with me. But he had a girlfriend anyway. How could I be that kind of a girl? But then again, he was looking at me and touching me. Maybe they had an open relationship? At least, that was what my sex-crazed brain was trying to convince me. He’d turned his head back to look at me. He was just as interested in me. So maybe going to the warehouse wouldn’t be a loss?
I’d never struggled with getting dates though I turned down more than I actually went on. Could I borrow him for the night? I scrunched up my face. Though I’d had them before and fantasized about having one with him earlier, I hated one-night stands. A few weeks? A month? I was getting ahead of myself. I was going out to have fun. The rest would be here when I returned. This was our night to let off steam.
And with that in mind, I changed into my clothing and applied eye makeup and lip gloss. After I was done, I stood before the mirror with confidence and grinned. The more I thought about Brody, the less upsetting I thought it would be if I were to run into him again.
I RUBBED MY BARE arms against the cold wind as I stood at the Riverside subway stop. The night was colder than I expected this far into May though my shirt wasn’t too thin, it being a stretch jersey fabric. Nevertheless, I was happy and quick to approach when the yellow cab pulled up to the curb.
“You sneaking behind your mom’s back to see me again? Just like old times.” Jorge leaned over and gave me a quick hug before I put on my seatbelt.
I could just make out the amused grin on his handsome face before the lights went out and we moved off, but I knew better. He was hurt by her treatment. My mother’s dislike of him had more to do with his father, Hatchet, being an enforcer in the motorcycle club that father used to be in. From what I knew from Jorge’s stories and nightmares, his father was a sociopath. Jorge was just the opposite, and she would find that out if she’d ever been willing to give him a chance.
However, that wasn’t my reason for meeting him here. I filled him in on Professor Gilmore’s “wow-or-else” ultimatum and Aunt Luna’s impromptu “love quest.”
Jorge placed an arm around my shoulder. “We both know how desperate Luna is, so that shouldn’t surprise you.”
He was right. Every few months she was with a new man, and each one took off and left her. “I can’t blame her for trying.”
“But Gilmore?! He’s on a power trip. You should go to the Academic Dean. I mean, you’ve got the grades. He’s being an ass,” Jorge said.
“True, but forcing my way in won’t get me his recommendation. Besides, he’s their academic rock star. There’s no way I would win,” I countered.
Jorge was silent for a moment, then said. “We’ll figure something out, but you don’t have to stay at Royce’s mausoleum. You could crash at my dorm. I just need a day to get things settled with my new roommate.”
I rested my head on the seat facing him and giggled. “Staying in a room with two guys for the summer?”
“That could be your wow,” Jorge said. Amusement in his tone.
I snorted. “My staying with two men wouldn’t even register on Gilmore’s meter. He probably stayed at a sorority house for a couple of months and had sex with everyone there.”
“Yeah, and then you’d have to sit through boring stories of his conquests. I’m glad you called him a fucking dick,” Jorge said with annoyance.
“Hey, I love his stories,” I said and sniffed. We laughed. “Glad I took those sleeping pills though. Who knew calling him a fucking dick would save me?”
“It didn’t save you. You shouldn’t let yourself get so stressed. What kind of life would you have, trying to top your last story by seeking the most outrageous, risky events? You can still work as a journalist and not be a pompous, adrenaline junkie,” he said.
I shook my head. “It’s my dream. I want this, and I will find a way to make it happen. I wish you would understand.”
“I do. I try. I want you safe.” He let out a short breath.
I turned toward the window. There was that “safe” word again. “I believe in your law dreams. I support you.”
“Don’t get in a mood. I say these things because I care and would lose it if anything were to happen to you,” he replied.
We rode in silence. I loved J
orge, but he had said as much before. I never could convey how much this career meant to me.
We were close to the bar before he spoke again. “Those were my first tries. We can skip The Warehouse and go back to my dorm and brainstorm ideas.”
I shook my head. “No way. This is still a celebration. You got your law internship. I’ll figure out a solution to my problems later.”
“You can be upset, you know,” he said quietly.
I placed my head on his shoulder.
“I know, but that’s not going to solve anything.” He squeezed my hand.
We were over near Faneuil Hall marketplace where The Warehouse was located. Jorge leaned up to the taxi divider window. “Over here, please.”
I reached into my small handbag for money, but Jorge swiftly paid our fare. I wanted to fuss but decided to let it go.
“I’ll buy the first round of drinks,” I conceded.
We exited onto the sidewalk where there was an eclectic mix of rockers, college students, and bikers from the fest in town all connected by their habitual smoking. After showing our IDs, the bouncer let us in. We walked straight into the mix of a lively dance floor in front of a stage where a local rock band was performing. But once we made it past them and got further inside, we ended up next to the long, full row of wooden and cushioned booths.
Piper Dreams: Dream it, Seize it, Live it. (Dreams Series Book 1) Page 4