Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
SNOOP
Harlow
Chrissie raises her voice. “Stop right there. You’re sharing a room with a stranger?”
I pull the cell from my ear and wince. “No. I’m sharing a suite.
I’ll have my own bathroom and bedroom. And Devon isn’t exactly a stranger—he was my bridal assistant.
I had less privacy when I used to stay in hostels in college when my friends and I backpacked across Europe.
I even have my own king-sized bed—not that I’ll need one anytime soon. ”
“You’ve had a dry spell for the last six weeks. It’s amazing you managed to dodge Albert all that time. I’m just happy the damn wedding is behind us.”
“I have a feeling there was no dry spell for Albert. If that’s the case, he was at least careful.
I’ve had myself tested three times and each one has come back clear.
The thought makes me want to throw up. I’ve been careful my entire life.
Hell, I’ve been selective. I thought I found my soulmate and look where it got me.
” A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of what could’ve been in so many different ways.
I continue to unpack in what will be my room for the next three weeks.
“I don’t want to talk about Albert until I have to.
He’s gone and so are most of the wedding guests. I’ll be free to wander peacefully.”
“Ha, that’s funny,” Chrissie balks. “I’m sure you’ll be able to wander around Winslet on the downlow.
Your mug has been plastered all over social media leading up to the wedding.
You’re the biggest thing that small town has seen besides the new and improved manor.
Let me know how your time goes. And that means you have to be careful.
Don’t put it past Albert to come back for you.
By the way, a car will be delivered tomorrow.
Maybe I should add a private security detail to stay with you. ”
“I’m officially settled in.” I stuff my bras and panties into a drawer and push it shut. “And there was no room for me, so I know there’s no room for security. I’ll be fine. Winslet will get used to me. Or they won’t. It is what it is.”
“I didn’t mean that they won’t like you. They will. You’re Effie’s daughter. They’ll love you. I just meant you’re not in Central America or Africa. There’s no way you’ll blend in.”
“Maybe not. Look, I don’t need them to love me. At this point, I’ll take them begrudgingly accepting me.”
“Enough of that.” Chrissie lowers her voice. “Have you gone snooping yet?”
“No,” I whisper as if the place is bugged. “Why would I do that?”
She sounds affronted. “Because that’s what one does when one is alone in a stranger’s house.”
I stuff my last suitcase in the corner of the closet and wander back into the living area. “I would never do that. Do you do that when you’re at my apartment by yourself?”
“Every time, and I’m not stopping. What do you take me for, someone noble?”
“I’m not surprised,” I mutter. “But I really don’t care.”
“I know we’ve known each other for years, but you’re incredibly boring. Keeping a secret kink or three would make it a lot more fun for me.”
“How about when I actually own a home again, I’ll leave something spicy for you to find under my mattress. Happy?”
“You just took all the fun out of snooping.”
I don’t respond and wander slowly through the space.
It looks nothing like the suite next door where I’ve spent the last few days.
It was light, bright, and airy. The draperies and bedding were a soft floral, the furniture was fine linen, and the kitchen was stocked with crystal and china—and nothing you see here in the States. It’s definitely European.
But this suite ... this is different. I don’t know Devon Donnelly, but somehow I know that this is all him.
Leather replaces linen. Deep, navy velvets flank the tall windows rather than florals.
Gone are the fine china and delicate crystal in lieu of heavy glassware and ceramics that look like they could be used as weights in my barre class.
The walls are earth tones and even the floors are dark, rustic wood.
“There’s nothing to snoop,” I go on. “The entire suite is just like him—dark and broody.”
“The suite is broody?”
“Yes. It fits him. I find it a little sad that he lives here.”
“But you said it was beautiful. Why wouldn’t he want to live there?”
“He owns the place. Who wants to live where they work? It’s not healthy. It’s hard enough for people to unplug as it is. But enough about me and Winslet. Tell me the truth, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Harlow. I promise.”
“I feel horrible. I’ll make it up to you. When this is all said and done, you’re taking a month-long vacation on me—anywhere you want to go.”
“You’ve already quadrupled my pay, and you didn’t need to do that.”
“But this isn’t your job.”
“No,” she agrees. “But this is what friends do. We will be back to regularly scheduled programming before you know it.”
I pause and stare down at my sandals on the dark wood floors. My pearly, pink painted toenails stand in stark contrast to everything around me. “I hope so. You’re the only person I have, Chrissie.”
“Well, I’m not sure if that means you’re lucky or you should worry.
We’ll see how this plays out. But if I’m your only person, I’m going to need you to check in with me on the regular since you’ve moved into a stranger’s suite.
I have a feeling this will either turn into a Netflix rom-com or a Dateline special. ”
“Nope. No more drama for me. I refuse to accept anything other than a basic and lackluster life.”
“The boring life of a billionaire’s daughter. That will never sell on Netflix,” Chrissie scoffs.
I tear my gaze from the floor to the windows with the same view I had next door. Every sign of the wedding is wiped from the property. I watched it happen in real time, but the team who swept in to get the job done worked so fast, it was like I was watching it on fast forward.
Just like that, it’s over.
I wish it were that easy to erase the entire relationship from my brain.
A new day and a new start.
“Is it wild that the least of my worries at the moment is sharing a suite with a strange man?”
“Yeah,” she stresses in two syllables. “It’s a testament to how fucked up your life has become. Don’t forget, I want you to check in. Your normal I’m alive text will do.”
“I promise. I’m going to get out of the room and get some fresh air. Call me with any updates.”
“Will do. And if I don’t hear from you, I’ll be forced to call. And if you don’t answer, I’ll call your new roommate. I don’t care how broody he may be.”
I smile. “I’ll text soon. Promise.”
No sooner than I say goodbye, do I press go on the number that I have so many missed calls from, I’ve lost count at this point.
She answers on the second ring. I’m not surprised. “Harlow! I am in the middle of a crisis. Answer my calls, dammit!”
My eyes fall shut, and I immediately regret returning her call. “I’ve been a little busy, Janie. And you’ve kept me up to date with every voicemail followed by more texts. I’ve also been getting calls from Dad’s executive staff. There’s only so much I can do to cover for you.”
She lowers her voice, but that doesn’t mean her tone isn’t laced with tension. “This isn’t my fault! I hired an entire staff to stay with him night and day. My orders were for him never to be alone.”
“So you still haven’t found him,” I state as I head to my bathroom and put her on speaker.
I drag a brush through my hair as I speak.
“My father was taken from his home. I’ve given you time.
If you don’t contact the authorities, I will.
When this hits the news, stockholders will lose their minds. That will be on you.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” Her tension is palpable over the line. I continue to fix my hair into a sleek, high pony. “Stockholders are the least of our problems, Harlow.”
“Someone has to worry about the markets,” I say as I tighten my hair and reach for my lip oil. “Lord knows, Dad would be. If we only knew where he was. I just got off the phone with the CFO. You’ll be getting a call soon. He knows you’re in charge.”
“I can’t deal with this.” A sob hiccups through her words. “This is too much, and the medical staff isn’t taking any responsibility. They said they were following my orders even though I made no such directive. There was no way I’d have him moved. He was too weak.”
“This wouldn’t all be on you if you would have allowed me shared power of attorney. You might not be in this mess and we’d know where my father is had you not demanded complete control.”
“Your father is missing, and you’re still hung up on that? What’s wrong with you?”
I smack my lips together after applying gloss and grab my cell.
The more panicked Janie becomes, the calmer I feel.
“Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I have a long list of things that are wrong right now.
The fact that my elderly father is missing on top of everything else is not something I should have to worry about. ”
“I told you not to refer to him as elderly,” she snaps.
“You should’ve thought about your husband reaching the elderly stage when you married someone so much older than you. His age is a fact you can’t change, Janie.”
“I need your help, okay?” I’ve never heard her like this. It appears there are some things in the world that money can’t fix. “I’m beside myself.”
I know my stepmother well enough to know she’s not beside herself with worry for my father. Her anxiety stems solely from how this will blow back on her. And she’s not wrong to worry.
I decide to throw her a bone. “I’ll make some calls.”
“That’s it? Who are you going to call?”
“I’ll call Stonebridge PR to give them the heads up. They don’t like you anyway, so it will come better from me.”
“That’s not what I meant when I said I needed your help, and you know it,” she snaps. “Dammit, Harlow. Help me find your father!”