I scanned the article then, wondering if someone had found out about our argument. Maybe a tabloid journalist would share how I ran off after meeting Emily’s parents. The public could easily speculate on the reasons, probably eat up the details of the new woman feeling shamed by the ghost of Emily Hill.
But the article was short, with limited details. The tabloid was announcing the new woman in Derek Walsh’s life, noting it was the first time he’d been seen in public with another woman since his fiancée’s murder. When asked for a response, the article stated, his representatives had no comment.
I didn’t like that our relationship was a public thing, an entity for dissection and discussion. However, I understood the risks from the beginning. Yet, I couldn’t let anything taint what was the best thing to ever happen to me. Because who was I kidding? I had a past full of nothingness.
Then, I reached the end of the article and my confusion cleared. His worried mood made sense. The gossip magazine hadn’t mentioned me as the unidentified date or even Alyssa Carter. No, the journalist had revealed me as Heiress Alyssa Carmichael.
My family, Jake, they could find me now. They could seek out Derek and ruin my happiness. Alyssa Carter was invisible, but the date of Derek Walsh was not.
But I refused to let them back into my life. They thought I never had any fight inside of me. They were always assured of my acquiescence. I was known as the sensible one, the caretaker, the one who’d never make any waves. But they wouldn’t destroy what I had with Derek.
“I’m sorry, Alyssa,” Derek was saying. “I didn’t realize your real name would come up.”
Straightening my spine, I met his eyes. “You know what? I don’t care. So what if my parents will know we’re together? I’m not even sure they’d bother coming to find me anymore. And if they did, someone really smart pointed out to me I’d probably have to face them eventually.”
The tension lessened on his face. “Good, I’ve been worried all morning. You went to the trouble of changing your name, so I figured this would be a blow.”
“Nope, maybe yesterday. But after last night…” I trailed off, giving him a seductive smile.
He laughed. “Good god, you’re insatiable. If I knew all I had to do was screw you senseless to make you this happy, I would’ve seduced you weeks ago and said to hell with your rules.”
I smacked his arm. “Screw me senseless doesn’t sound romantic at all. You should call it something…sweeter.”
“Yes, I’ll try to be more proper. I am sleeping with an heiress after all.”
“Why did they have to write that?” I groaned. “That was honestly the worst part of the entire article. It’s not even true.”
“No?”
“My dad owns this huge investment corporation he took over from my grandfather. He’s been edging toward billionaire status for some time, but I only had ten thousand dollars of my own money in a saving account. The rest was in a joint account with Jake. I only took the ten thousand dollars.”
His expression turned stormy. “How much of your money did you leave with Jake?”
I waved him off. “Enough that I’m embarrassed by the figure. They can all keep the money.” He still looked concerned, so I tried to lighten the mood. “Blood money all of it. Whatever money I have now is mine alone. I don’t have to perform like a trained circus animal for it.”
“I don’t like to think how bad it must have been for you to leave everything behind.”
“No regrets,” I said forcefully, hoping he understood my underlying meaning—I didn’t want him to have regrets either. “So, let’s forget all about the Carmichael money and you come back to bed with me.” At his frown, I pouted. “What else?”
“Pamela called. She’s not happy I bailed out last night and she’s pretty insistent I have to keep my commitments today. I have to meet her in an hour for a podcast interview followed by a guest lecture at NYU.”
I fell back into bed, completely grumpy he’d be leaving me to my own devices after the best sex I ever had. He was right, I was insatiable, but it was his own fault for being a sex god. Which was really crazy when I thought about it since he hadn’t been with anyone in so long. But no fumbling for Derek Walsh, he could’ve taught a master class.
Standing up, he leaned down over me as I attempted to head back under the covers. Before I could hide, he held the blanket in place. “I’ll miss you too and I’m sorry my schedule is so busy right now. I promise it’s only temporary and because the book just launched.”
“Whatever, I can find my own fun today. I don’t need you. When you rudely barged in last night, I had plans to hit the bar.”
He tickled me in response, which had me giggling in seconds. “On the prowl, were you?”
“No.” I gasped as he continued to tickle me just behind my ear, my most sensitive spot. “I’m only messing with you. Have fun with your podcast. Call me later when you get a minute.”
He nodded. “There’s actually more I have to talk to you about.”
I forced the covers over my head then, whimpering through the fabric. “Derek, just go away. You’re ruining my morning when I thought you were going to give me a very good morning instead.”
“It’s not completely…bad. Well, I hope you don’t think it’s bad,” he said, his tone betraying nothing.
I did pull the covers down then to scrutinize him. “What is it?”
“My parents are arriving in town this week. They’d like to meet you,” he said, watching me to gauge my reaction.
“Do you want me to meet them?” I asked evenly.
He nodded. “I would, but only if you feel comfortable about it. This is all very new, so it seems early, but they’re here just for a few days and then won’t likely be back until the holidays.”
“They move fast. I take it they saw the article and wanted to meet the heiress on your arm?”
He shook his head. “No, they’ve known about you. I told them I was seeing you.”
I could barely contain my happiness and I didn’t even care. Because him telling his parents about me was monumental. It meant so much more than him mentioning me to the Hills. Because I was gaining perspective. I understood his struggle with letting Emily’s parents know he no longer pledged himself only to her. His slight had hurt, but I had to give a wide berth. All he’d been was the grieving partner for two years. He would have to learn how to make room for me in his life.
“I’d love to meet them. Well, maybe love is a stretch since I’ll be completely nervous when this happens, but I’m flattered they want to meet me. Are we going to have dinner with them?”
He gave a swift nod in response. “Would Thursday evening work?”
“Yes, I have a shift in the morning, but that’s all.”
“You’re working the rest of the week?”
I sighed. “Yes, but I get a long weekend. So, if you’d like to make plans after dinner, I may be able to pencil you in.”
“You did promise to spend the night at my place,” he reminded me.
“That sounds nice, but won’t your parents be there too? Am I loud when we sleep together? I don’t want them to hear me.” I cringed at the visual because I really wanted Derek’s parents to like me. I was following an impossibly tough act.
“You’re loud, very loud and so sexy.” His smile was devastating enough I felt my need for him growing all over again. “But they actually stay in Manhattan at a hotel. They see a lot of friends when they are in town too, so they prefer the city. Plus, my insomnia drives my mother up the wall. She says she can never sleep when she hears me up and about all night.”
“So, Thursday then,” I replied, still saddened that I wouldn’t see him for five whole days. But between my early morning diner shifts and his packed book tour schedule, I’d have to deal.
“Stop giving me that look,” he admonished.
“What look?” I blinked at him in confusion.
“Oh, fuck it, I’ll just have to be late then,” he rumbled
in his deep, sexy voice. He slipped off his rumpled suit jacket before starting to unbutton his shirt.
I was beaming as I lifted myself up, removing my cotton nightgown. He reached for me, his thumb hooking around the side of my panties. As he moved closer, I started to kiss his neck. “Now, let’s have a good morning do-over.” I sighed and became lost to him all over again.
***
A couple days later I was meeting Jenny for dinner and drinks at a nearby Applebee’s. Actually, I was treating Jenny since she was pissed at me. I wasn’t surprised when she strolled in twenty minutes late.
She narrowed her eyes as she stared me down across the table. “I am so pissed at you right now.”
“I know. Ahmed told me that was the reason you decided to leave me solo this morning.”
“You’re an heiress? I’m lost at what could possibly be going on here. Is this for a reality show? Are you secretly filming as some sort of sociology experiment? Like look at the rich girl getting her hands dirty with the regular folk.” She didn’t wait for my answer, instead signaling a waitress and putting in her drink order.
“No, I broke up with my fiancé and decided to start over,” I said evenly.
Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “But you live in a tiny apartment now. Why? And you’re waitressing for crap tips. None of it makes sense.”
“I only took what money I needed to pay for an apartment, my car, and furniture. Maybe I’m not making sense, but I had to leave everything behind, even the money.”
She shook her head. “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense.”
“I was unhappy, really unhappy with my life. And I couldn’t be tied any longer to the Carmichaels. I had to prove I could make it on my own, without my family.” I had such self-loathing for my contribution to my irrelevance.
“So, your ex and your parents are all rich assholes?”
I nodded. “My parents only care about public image, so that’s why they pushed me to marry someone who was just an awful person. He checked the right boxes in their heads, so they made it a point to let me know I’d never do better.”
“They would actually tell you that some dickless loser was the best you could do?”
“Yes, in subtle and not so subtle ways.” I leaned back against the seat. I was starting to realize not all trauma was loud, some was almost imperceptible, but still left scars. “But I’m twenty-eight years old. I could’ve left a long time ago. Taking control of my life also means I have to claim responsibility for my mistakes too.”
“Good for you. Although I was kind of hoping you were an undercover rich girl and planned to surprise me with an all-inclusive vacation after seeing how hard us poor people work.” She grinned as she leaned forward conspiratorially. “At least you have a rich boyfriend now.”
“Derek’s not my boyfriend,” I said automatically although I still couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his name on my lips. Because then I started thinking about his lips and how good they felt on my body. Each time his tongue had tasted my skin, a flicker of pure electricity had gone through me.
“Well, are you going to give me the goods or what? Because if you expect me to forgive you anytime soon for keeping so many secrets, I need something in return.” She sighed. “Want to know something? I’m in such a drought, Ahmed is starting to look like eye candy to me.”
“He’s attractive, but he yells at us way too much. To me, he’s just downright mean, but I always got a sense he had a thing for you. Maybe he’s secretly in love with you and that’s his way of taking out his frustration.”
“At least he does have passion. These duds at Molly’s Pub lack any kind of personality.” She smirked before continuing, “Zeke asked about you. I guess you never texted him back. When I told him you were dating Derek Walsh, he just about shit his pants.”
“I should’ve messaged him back, but I felt awkward about the entire thing. I was actually surprised he even texted. I thought the date scared him away for good. He was nice, I just wasn’t feeling it.”
“Of course, you weren’t feeling it. Zeke is like the Shit on a Shingle special that Ahmed makes on Tuesdays while Derek is like Kobe steak.” She giggled as she took another long gulp of her hurricane, before motioning to the waitress to bring another. I expected this apology dinner to set me back. “So, what’s Derek like? I couldn’t get much of a read at the diner. Plus, he seems kind of serious during interviews, a real downer. I mean, I know he’s talking about a murder, but still, break it up with a joke or something. I watched a few of his interviews and they made me want to chug a bottle of cough syrup right after.”
“Jenny, what kind of joke could he possibly make?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, but I just hope he’s not like that with you. He’s hot, like molten hot, but still. I don’t want him on a date with you and being all moody.”
“I’m moody too.”
She waved off my claim. “You’re not moody. If anything, you need to be moodier, break out of that repressed upbringing I had no idea about.”
“He’s not moody with me. We actually talked about Emily a lot before we met in person. Now, I try not to bring her up because I don’t know what to say about her. It’s easier to pretend she doesn’t exist and not talk about her because anything I say will be meaningless. I’m sorry for him that she died, but if she hadn’t…”
“If she hadn’t, you wouldn’t be with him,” she finished. “I get it. So, if you’re not talking about her, maybe Emily isn’t an issue?”
“I don’t know, I’m worried because he hasn’t been with anyone since her.”
Jenny sat up straighter. “What are you talking about?”
“He hasn’t dated since Emily.”
“But he’s had sex since then, right? I mean, when did she die? Years ago?”
“Almost two years,” I mumbled.
“Well, you can’t sleep with him now.”
Too late, I kept to myself. “Why?”
“Alyssa, he needs a fluffer. And you, my sweet girl, are not a fluffer.”
“What the hell is a fluffer?”
“See, the fact you don’t know only proves my point. Fluffers are hired to get male porn stars all ready for their big scenes on set. They get them all hot and bothered, prepped for the main event. You want to be the main event. He needs to get his rocks off with a few practice women before settling down with you.” She scrutinized me for a long minute. “Unless my advice is too late. Shit, did you sleep with him?”
I pulled up my menu to cover my face. Jenny reached over, forcing it down. “Why did you let me waste all that time talking about you being an heiress? You should’ve started with that bombshell.”
“I was going to tell you, but now I’m thinking I could just be a fluffer.”
“How good was it?” she demanded. “Was he out of practice?”
I shook my head adamantly. “Oh no, he was good. No problem there whatsoever.”
“Like riding a bicycle or riding Alyssa.” She snickered. “Better than Jake?”
“No comparison. Seriously I didn’t think people actually had sex that good. And I think the reason is because I feel so comfortable with him.” Derek made me feel safe, which made no sense because on paper I probably shouldn’t trust my heart with him at all.
“I’m happy for you, although I’m bummed you won’t be single with me now.”
“There’s always Ahmed…”
“Damn, you got me. I’m totally screwing Ahmed before the summer is over.”
Chapter Sixteen
The next night, Derek was waiting for me outside of the restaurant where I would meet his parents. The gesture was thoughtful until I noticed his frown after I parked and walked toward him. I checked out my outfit momentarily, black pants, a white blouse, and heels. The steakhouse was semi-formal, so I assumed my clothes were passable. Yet, the way he was staring at me made me wonder if I missed the fancy dress memo.
“What’s with you?” I asked in greeting while he
still gave me a funny look.
“What is that you’re driving?”
I gave a wave before answering. “Oh, that’s my new car. My Mercedes was in Jake’s name because he purchased it as a birthday gift last year. I bought the car in cash before moving into my place.”
“Alyssa…”
“What? Are you embarrassed by my car? I’m hurt, Derek. I could’ve sworn you told me it took gumption to leave everything behind and make it on my own.”
“I never used the word gumption ever. I hate the sound of it.”
I laughed at him. “Well, I hate pretty sounding words meaning terrible things. Like euthanasia.”
A corner of his lips quirked up. “Stop trying to distract me from being worried about you driving that car.”
“Why would you worry?”
“I heard you coming a mile away. I’m no car expert—”
“I think they’re called mechanics.”
He gave me a tolerant look. “I’m not a mechanic, but screeching and sputtering sounds are usually not a good sign.”
“I’ve become an optimist. As long as the car runs, then that’s good enough for me.” I gripped the side of his forearms. “Now, are you going to kiss me hello or continue to lecture me about my car?”
His thumb brushed over my lips before he gave me a sweet, lingering kiss on my lips. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I smiled up at him. “Are your parents inside?”
“Yes, the table was ready, so I told them to order a drink while I waited here for you.”
“Thanks, I feel like I might need the moral support.”
“Why?”
“What if they don’t like me?”
“Then, I send you home in an Uber,” he said drily.
I smacked his arm playfully. “You’re lucky I find you funny. Most girls would find that comment offensive.”
I was grinning at him, giddy to be in his presence. Relaxing into his arm as we walked inside, I felt happy, like I found someone who truly cared about me on a deep, personal level. I wanted to trap the feeling inside of me forever, because it felt like we were on borrowed time. Emily’s ghost was waiting to reclaim his heart.
The Despair of Strangers Page 17