Betrayal (6 page)

“No,” I corrected. “It isn’t. If that’s the way Mr. Hamilton does his business, perhaps I’ll move the trust elsewhere.”

“If you’d read the trust, you’d understand the legalities.”

“I received the trust when I was nine years old. But you’re right. If I’m stuck here for three days, I’ll make a trip to Hamilton and Preston and take a look at it.”

“Because an
English major
will understand,” Alton said, obviously demeaning my choice of study.

“More so than a child.”

“Please,” my mother implored. “As I said, can we talk about all of this later? Tomorrow, Alexandria, I have plans for us.”

I exhaled. “What plans do we have?” It was clear my time wasn’t my own.

“I thought it would be nice for us to go to the spa.”

I closed my eyes, fighting the memory I’d had as I walked to my room. Careful to avoid Alton’s glare, I plastered my best Montague smile on my face and said, “That sounds lovely, Mother. What time should I be ready?”

“I made our appointment for ten. Then we can go to the tearoom for lunch…”

I smiled dutifully as she went on and on about the changes that had occurred in Savannah since I’d moved. With Alton’s occasional glare in my peripheral vision, I knew the truth. Nothing ever changed—not in Montague Manor and not in Savannah.

“DINNER FROM HELL IS OVER.”
I hit send. “
I CAN’T LEAVE UNTIL MONDAY EVENING.”
I hit send again.

My phone buzzed with Chelsea’s reply.
“CAN’T?”

“I TOLD YOU. THIS PLACE IS A PRISON.”
I hit send.

Chelsea: “I TOLD YOU THAT YOU SHOULD HAVE TAKEN ME WITH YOU. I KICK ASS AT JAIL BREAKS!”

I laughed. Damn, I missed her. I couldn’t believe we’d really be separated when I moved to New York. I only had two weeks before I needed to move. Of course, that meant that Chelsea needed a new roommate or she needed to move too when our lease was up. There was no way she could afford our apartment on her own.

“I’LL KEEP THAT INFO UNDER WRAPS!”
I replied
.

Every time I asked her what she was going to do, she’d tell me to take her with me to New York. She’d interviewed for a few jobs in and around San Francisco, but I was seriously beginning to think she planned to move to New York. I wanted that, but I didn’t. The apartment I’d found on the Upper West Side was small with only one bedroom and cost as much as the place we had in Palo Alto.

Chelsea: “SERIOUSLY, WHAT DOES YOUR MOM WANT?”

Me: “I STILL DON’T KNOW. SOME MEETING ON MONDAY THAT SHE DOESN’T WANT TO DISCUSS. I KNOW IT’S TOO EARLY FOR IT TO GO TO ME COMPLETELY, BUT I’M THINKING IT HAS TO DO WITH THE TRUST FUND.”

Chelsea: “DO YOU THINK THEY’LL SIGN IT OVER TO YOU?”

Me: “I DON’T KNOW. MAYBE THERE WAS SOME CLAUSE ABOUT GRADUATING COLLEGE THAT I DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT.”

The faint knock at the door made me jump. I looked at the clock and my pulse increased. It was after nine-thirty.

“Alex, don’t let the ice cream melt.”

I took a deep breath. Jane. I’d forgotten about our ice cream and movie night.

Me: “I’LL KEEP YOU POSTED. TALK TO YOU LATER!”

Chelsea: “LATERS!”

Somehow I thought that salutation would be better coming from a hot billionaire than my best friend.

“I’m coming,” I called as I crawled off my bed and moved toward the door.

The locking mechanism clicked when I turned the key. The old house still had skeleton keys for each room. It was how the unused rooms could be locked from the outside. The obvious problem with skeleton keys was that most every one of them was the same. It didn’t take a jailer’s ring to open any of the doors. All you needed was one key, unless the key was in place on the other side.

I opened the door to Jane’s smiling face. Tucked in the crook of her elbow was a basket with two visible pints of ice cream, spoons, and napkins. My grin grew.

“I don’t think I’ve eaten ice cream directly out of the carton since I was here,” I said as I let her in. Turning the key and locking the door from the inside was habit that didn’t even register.

“Then what have you been doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “That’s why you’re so skinny and me…” She pointed to her behind. “…I got cushion!”

I flopped down on the bed. “Oh, I have cushion. It’s just not in the rear.”

“Yes, you do! When did that happen?”

I laughed. “Sometime during my freshman year. I woke up one day and boom! There they were.”

As Jane began emptying her basket, I noticed she was no longer wearing her normal slacks and blouse, but comfortable yoga pants. “Hey,” I said, “I haven’t had a chance to change. How about you get our movie going while I go put something better on than jeans that have been in three states today?”

“I’ve got it. Don’t worry about the ice cream.” She tried to stick a spoon into hers. “It’s still hard as a rock. Some things in this old house don’t work like they used to, but that walk-in freezer
…
it’s a dinosaur
…
a frozen one!”

“Ice age!” I exclaimed as I pulled an old pair of running shorts from my dresser. When I stepped into the bathroom, I noticed the shower. Peeking my head back out into the bedroom, I saw Jane’s
cushion
as she leaned down to put the DVD in the DVR. “Jane, I’m going to take a quick shower and rinse off today’s crud.”

She looked my way. “Hurry, child. Don’t forget the ice cream.”

“Oh, I won’t.”

About ten minutes later with my long hair in a towel wearing shorts and an oversized t-shirt, I opened the bathroom door. From the bathroom all I heard was the opening music to our show playing over and over. But as I stepped out, I heard Jane shutting and locking my door again.

“Did you forget something?”

Her rosy expression was gone. “No.”

“What is it?”

She walked toward me and grabbed my hand. Giving it a squeeze, she said, “Nothing at all. Let’s not spoil our reunion.”

“Jane?”

“You had a visitor.”

My heart fell to my stomach as my knees grew weak.

“See. That look there is why you don’t need to know any more.”

I knew whom she meant. “What did he say?”

“Said he wants you to stop upsetting Mrs. Fitzgerald.”

I sighed. “God, I hate it here!”

Jane patted my arm. “I said you would probably be awhile. You were indisposed. I offered to give you the message and may have mentioned that we were planning an all-nighter—a movie marathon.”

Swallowing, I nodded weakly. “Jane, tell me again.”

“What, baby girl?”

“What you used to tell me.”

“You’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on the out.” Her cheeks rose. “And, baby, with those knockers—sorry,
cushions
—you’re gorgeous on the outside. Don’t let anyone or anything ever make you forget that.”

She took a step toward the ice cream and stopped. Turning back to me she added, “And you ain’t no baby no more, Miss Alex Collins. You’re a beautiful, successful adult.”

“Thank you, Jane.”

“Now, let’s eat some ice cream, or we’ll be drinking mint chocolate chip milk.”

“Yuck!”

CHELSEA NUDGED HER
elbow into my side. “It’s time.”

“M-Maybe.” I hesitated. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

She smiled her most encouraging smile. “Stop it. I know you can do this.”

She was my biggest cheerleader. Through everything—tests, papers, late night studying, and even the occasional boyfriend—Chelsea was always there, telling me I could do it. She was truly the sister I’d never had. I sometimes wondered what it would have been like to have a sister growing up, someone to talk to—about anything. But then, I’d remember what she would have had to live through, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“I’m still not sure what I’m doing.”

She waved to the bartender and leaned closer. “You know those bracelets people used to wear? The ones that said WWJD—what would Jesus do?”

“Yes?” I answered suspiciously, certain that she didn’t mean for that to be her advice.

“Well, pretend you’re wearing one that says WWCD. Whenever Alex starts to respond or react, stop and think, what would Chelsea do?” She winked. “
Charli
would do, and then do that.”

“I’m not going to sleep—”

“Of course you’re not going to sleep. You’ll be awake the whole time. Just be sure to come back and tell me everything!”

I shook my head. “What if—?”

“Stop. Stop overthinking this. It’s dinner. That’s all. We’re on our
me
vacation. Have fun. Next week boring Alex can be back in your head. Let Charli have some fun.”

“Boring?”

Chelsea pressed her lips together and scrunched her nose. “I didn’t say that aloud, did I?”

Standing, I looked down at Chelsea’s high-heeled sandals and smoothed the material of my blue dress. Shrugging I said, “Maybe I’m just getting better at mental telepathy.”

“Good. That’ll make it easier to know what to do.” She touched her temples with the tips of her fingers. “I’ll be in your head all night.”

My heart beat faster with each step toward the doorman’s desk.

What if my mystery man didn’t think I’d follow through? What if he didn’t tell the doorman? I’d look like a complete idiot—that’s what would happen.

By the time I reached the counter, the palms of my hands were moist. Instead of thinking of what-ifs, I tried to concentrate on the click of my shoes against the marble floor and channel my best friend.

“May I help you?” asked the tall man with the same color jacket as all of the resort employees.

Squaring my shoulders and securing the mask of my upbringing, I replied, “Yes, I was told to tell you that my name is Charli.”

His dark eyes sparkled. “Yes, Miss Charli. I’m Fredrick, and we’ve been awaiting your arrival.”

I swallowed my apprehension. After all, this was good. Now more than Chelsea knew my whereabouts. Fredrick did too. He picked up the telephone and after a few moments said, “Yes sir, I’m escorting Miss Charli to your suite.” Next he turned toward me. “Please follow me. I’ll take you to the private elevator.”

Slipping back into the person raised to believe that staff needed no more than to do their job, I simply nodded. It wasn’t as if I still believed the Kool-Aid my grandmother had fed me, but at that moment my mind was too much awhirl with the possibility of what I might find at the end of the elevator ride. Nervousness and excitement vied with fear and anticipation.

Fredrick led me down a quiet hallway, the only sound that of my heels echoing off the paneled walls. Even though I worked to calm my breathing, as he pushed the button for the elevator, I may have jumped with the
ding
as the doors opened. This elevator wasn’t as large as the ones used by the other guests nor was it glass. Instead, it was lined with the same rich paneling from the hall, and where as the others had panels of multiple buttons, here there were only two. Fredrick pushed PS.

I had the almost unstoppable urge to ask Fredrick about the man I was meeting for dinner. I wanted to ask his name, but my pride wouldn’t allow it. After all, who got all dressed up and met someone in the presidential suite if they didn’t know whom they were meeting?

Me.

As I realized the answer to my own question, I lifted the corner of my lips. I was really doing this—well, Charli was.

The doors opened, not to a hallway, but to a foyer, large and light. I couldn’t help but look around as I stepped onto the white tile. In the center of the room was a large round table with an enormous arrangement of fresh flowers. The sweet aroma saturated the glass room. Through the skylight I noticed the darkening sky. Then my attention went to one of the glass walls. Through it was a spectacular view of the setting sun over the ocean.

“Miss Charli,” a woman’s voice brought my attention back to present. I turned toward the petite, older woman. Since she wasn’t wearing the resort’s signature navy jacket, I didn’t think she worked for the resort.

“Yes, hello,” I offered with as much confidence as I could muster.

Her cheeks rose as her brow lengthened. I still didn’t know who she was, but I got the distinct impression that she was assessing whether or not I should be allowed any farther into the suite.