Betrayal (4 page)

“DON’T LET ON
that you’re nervous,” Chelsea said as she spun me around for the hundredth time.

“I’m not nervous. You’re making me dizzy.” With each turn, the skirt of the simple yet elegant blue dress billowed as it flowed from the halter bodice. The high, wide sash accentuated my waist while the bodice dipped between my breasts. It showed enough cleavage to be sexy but not enough to be slutty. That was what Chelsea said. I pulled the material together hoping she was right.

“He saw you in a bikini. You’re not showing any more in this dress. Besides, it still leaves something to the imagination.”

As Chelsea continued to play with my long auburn hair, the style in the mirror began to grow on me. “I don’t usually wear my hair up.”

“And you don’t usually meet perfect strangers for dinner and
dessert
,” she added, allowing her voice to emphasize the last word.

I shook my head. “No dessert. Charli may be spending this week discovering life, but she’s not spending it on her back.”

“No one said you had to be on your back. Come on, there are a lot better positions than that!”

I playfully hit her shoulder. “You know what I mean. Alex still has standards.”

“But this week
Charli
is taking over.” She backed me toward the bed in my room. As I sat, Chelsea sat beside me and squeezed my hands. “I’m not saying to go against your moral code, but come on and live a little. Have some fun. Be daring.”

“Be you?”

“Yeah,” she said with a smile.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly the daring kind.”

“Do you want to know what I’d do?”

I shrugged my shoulder, and the long silver chain around my neck moved between my breasts sending a cool shiver down my spine. I was curious. After all, I knew what Alex would do. I knew what Alexandria had done. I wondered exactly what someone else, someone not haunted with a split personality, would do. Then again, Chelsea may not be the one to ask. She had always been more daring than, well, than anyone I’d ever known.

“First,” she said, standing and strutting a circle before me. “I wouldn’t let his deep, velvet, sexy voice make me all wet and weak in the knees.”

“I didn’t say that it did. And I never used the word
velvet
.”

“You didn’t have to. It’s pretty obvious. I mean, I’d recommend going pantyless, but damn girl, the way you fidget when you talk about him, I’d be afraid the material of your dress would give you away.”

I raised my chin. “I disagree.” I sounded confident, but the memory of the beach towel forced me to face the fact—I was at the very least mildly turned on by this man.

“So you’re willing to take off—”

“No! Tonight isn’t going that far. My panties or lack thereof won’t be a conversation topic.”

“No one said anything about conversation topics,” she added as she leaned against the far wall, crossed her arms over her chest and stared me up and down. “Face it. You’re beautiful, and in that outfit you’re stunning. Listen to me. I know you have shit you’ve never told me. It’s none of my business. That shit is Alex’s or maybe Alexandria’s—I don’t know. Tonight, be Charli. Be bold, be fun, and play out your fantasy.

“How often does some hot man walk into your life without any hold on your future? You’re leaving for Columbia soon. You don’t need this guy. Have fun with him. Hell, use him. Men have been doing it to women forever. This is our fun, no-regret week. You only get one of those in a lifetime.”

I sat taller. “You still haven’t said what you’d do.”

“I’d find out as little as I could about him. The less you know, the less connected you’ll be. I’d eat a little, drink a little too much, and I’d explore every position—except missionary—that I’ve ever known or he was willing to teach me.”

I glanced over at the clock. “Well, if I’m really doing this, this shit is about to get real. I’m supposed to be there in less than an hour.”

“The presidential suite isn’t that far away.” Chelsea reached for my hand. “Let’s go to the bar and have a pre-mystery-date drink, a liquid boost of courage. My treat.”

I wasn’t much of a drinker, but if I was really going to go through with this, liquid courage sounded like a great idea. “
Your
treat?”

I loved Chelsea, but Stanford wasn’t her college because she could afford it. Actually, she’d only attended there her freshman year by the grace of scholarships. That’s when we met, paired together by fate. Some of her choices didn’t sit well with the administration and her grades wouldn’t allow her to keep her scholarships. After our freshman year, she transferred to a state college. Even though we didn’t take classes together, we’d become too close to part ways. We found an apartment together, off campus.

I’d like to think that we’ve helped each other. My determination rubbed off and she worked hard. The fact that she still graduated in four years made me as proud of her as my own achievements did of me. We both accomplished our goal. Her degree just had a different school’s name at the top.

While I was the studier, she was the survivor. She knew more about the game of people like Shaun because she did what she needed to do. And even though she was now a college graduate, extra money wasn’t one of her luxuries.

“Well,” she said with a wink. “I was going to sign the receipt. You did book this room in my name after all.”

I stood. “I did. If Alex or Alexandria isn’t who I am this week, I didn’t want my name on the reservation. I mean, Charli with an
i
can’t be listed on the reservation.” I shrugged. “She doesn’t have a last name.”

“Oh! I know! We could be sisters! You can share my last name.”

As I grabbed my small purse and took one last look at the creation in the mirror, I shrugged. “Our eyes are different colors. Yours are hazel and mine are some weird shade of brown.”

Chelsea hugged my shoulder and looked at us in the mirror. With her head close to mine, she said, “Our hair could be the same color. I’ve changed mine so many times, I forget what it really is. And hazel is close to gold. That’s the color I’ve always used to describe your eyes—golden.”

“Okay, sisters it is. And if I’m not back by midnight—”

“Oh no. I’m not sending out the cavalry until tomorrow. Charli with an
i
has some life to discover. I’m not the type of sister to put her on a time clock. There’s no magic pumpkin or glass slipper. Charli will be here all week. The stroke of midnight will have no bearing.”

“ALEXANDRIA!”

Alex
, I silently corrected
.

My mother’s greeting echoed through the enormous foyer as she stepped quickly from the sitting room. Her high heels clicking across the floor as she made her way toward me, arms open wide.

The brief pleasure I felt at seeing her evaporated as soon as Alton turned the corner only a few steps behind her. Of course he’d be on her heels. Heaven forbid that I’d have even a few seconds alone with my mother outside of his earshot.

“Mom,” I murmured against her shoulder as she wrapped me in her arms.

Almost immediately, she stiffened and held me at arm’s length. “Look at you. Are you ill? You look pale. I thought you were supposed to be resting before moving to New York. It’s that horrid girl, isn’t it? What does she have you doing?”

“Alexandria.” Alton’s icy tone sent a chill through the air.

Ignoring him, I kept my gaze focused on my mother. “I’m fine. I’m just tired, that’s all. I’ve been flying most of the day.”

“My dear, that’s why you should have flown privately and not commercial, all those layovers are ridiculous. You should rest, but first we can eat. I had Martha hold dinner.”

The idea of sitting in the dining room with my mother and Alton made any possible twinge of hunger evaporate. “Really, Mom, I’d like to settle whatever business you deemed so important it warranted my immediate trip to Savannah. Then I’d like to go.”

“Go?” Her perfectly painted face scrunched as her eyes narrowed. I wasn’t sure how many appointments she’d had with her plastic surgeon, but I wondered if her skin could be pulled any tighter. “Nonsense. Brantley! Brantley!”

“Yes, madam.”

It was an amazing feat that all well-instructed house staff possessed. They could materialize out of thin air. One moment, they weren’t there, and you were alone. The next, they’re beside you. If they were truly well-trained and well-paid, they also had the ability to be blind and mute to their surroundings. The employees of Montague Manor were among the best-trained staff on the face of the earth.

“Where are Alexandria’s bags? Have you taken them to her room?”

“Madam—”

“Mother, I asked Brantley to leave them in the car. I was hoping that we could conclude this family meeting and I could be back in the air. There’s a flight scheduled—”

“Brantley,” Alton’s voice superseded our discussion. “Retrieve Miss Collin’s bags and put them in her room. You may retire the car for the evening. We won’t be leaving the property.”

Though my neck straightened in defiance, my lips remained still, glued together by experience. Just like that, Alton had declared the future and sentenced me to prison behind the gates of Montague Manor.

Mother reached for Alton’s hand and turned back to me. “Dear, have you said hello to your father?”

“No, my father is deceased. I hate to be the one to break the news to you.”

Alton’s glare narrowed while Adelaide did her best to make light of my comment. “Alexandria, you always did get cranky when you were tired. Now show Alton the respect he deserves.”

If only I truly could, but I was quite certain that my mother wasn’t speaking literally.

“Alton, hello. You can only imagine my disappointment when I learned that you wouldn’t be out of town on one of those meetings of yours this weekend.”

“And miss this family reunion? I wouldn’t think of it.”

My skin turned to ice as he reached out and patted my shoulder. Keeping his hand there, in a silent reminder of his dominance, he scanned me up and down. Slowly his beady eyes moved from my flat ballet-styled shoes, blue jeans, and top, to my hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t accept your mother’s offer of the private jet. I’m most certain they would’ve assumed you were the help. Then again, if you’d flown privately at least the entire world wouldn’t have seen you gallivanting around airports like some common…”

Mother’s glare stopped his assessment.

“Common
twenty-something
?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“Well, dear, you do look a little haggard. Why don’t you go up to your room and clean up? We’ll meet you in the dining room in fifteen minutes.”

I turned around for Brantley, ready to tell him to forget Alton Fitzgerald’s decree and take me back to the airport, but of course he had disappeared, evaporated into the mystical invisible plain. More than likely he was delivering my bags to my room. If I didn’t hurry, some poor young woman on the staff would be unpacking before I ever made it up the stairs. I wondered what that same person would think of my vibrator. It was the first thought since I’d been picked up at the airport that put a smile on my face. Honestly, I didn’t care if it was the talk of the kitchen. Montague Manor needed a good laugh.

“Mother, you know I’m in the middle of getting things set in New York. I have a lot that needs to be done before classes begin. I don’t have time to spend wandering around Montague Manor.”

She reached for my hand and led me toward the large staircase. “No one’s asking you to wander, dear: straight up to your room and back down. It’s been so long since you’ve been home. Don’t forget to wear appropriate clothes for dinner.” She squeezed my hand, like she was doing me a favor. “I may have done a little shopping. Besides, I’m sure the things in your suitcase are wrinkled.” She kissed my cheek. “Just peek in the closet.”

With each step up the stairs, I lost a piece of my life. When I’d entered the front gates I was Alex, a twenty-three-year-old college graduate. In less than ten minutes, I’d regressed to Alexandria Charles Montague Collins, a teenager caught in the tower of lies and deceit. If only the stairs went higher and higher. Instead of a teenager, I could go back further to a time of pure innocence.

How far back would I need to go?

I closed my eyes and inhaled the familiar scents. Even after four years, nothing had changed. The closed doors to unused rooms were like soldiers along the corridor, assuring that I did as I was told. They didn’t need rifles upon their shoulders. The glass doorknobs that glistened from the crystal lighting were their weapons, locked portals to destitute lands.

Before the loss of innocence, I pretended that Montague Manor was truly a castle and I was the princess. It was the name my mother said my father called me, his princess. But the princess I imagined was more like the one from storybooks I was read as a child, trapped in a tower.

A memory hit, stilling my steps. I hadn’t thought of it in years, but it was as vivid as if it were happening.

I was ten years old, and I’d embarrassed my mother by refusing to let a stylist cut my hair. It was the princess thing. I believed that if it grew long enough I could escape my room high in the sky. The second floor wasn’t that high, but it was to a ten-year-old.