Chapter 27 Helena
At some point after midnight I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to even think about sleeping. Lincoln’s words kept going around in my head.
But I’m only going to keep quiet if you stay away from Jessiah from here on. You have to forget about him. You understand that, right?
Even hours later, his words left a dull ache in my gut, because I knew what it meant.
It meant I couldn’t decide for myself who I fell in love with, or who I was with.
And above all, it meant that I could never be with Jess.
Why did I even tell Lincoln? I was probably hoping my brother might understand.
But he hadn’t. The opposite, in fact. He’d given me an ultimatum, and I’d accepted it, when in reality I wanted to yell no so loud through the entire hotel that it made every single dinner guest fall off their chair.
I’d pretended to understand, but I didn’t get it at all.
The worst part, though, was when I was sitting at our table again and Jess came back.
I didn’t know if he’d heard our conversation, but he avoided making eye contact from that point on, then made his exit as soon as he could without seeming rude.
I saw him speaking to his mother and some business associates after that, but when I noticed Lincoln watching me, I followed Jess’s lead and pretended we didn’t know each other.
If I didn’t want to risk being sent back to England and losing my chance to clear Valerie’s name, I had to do it. But I didn’t have any idea how.
Even now, I was still totally overwhelmed by the hunger Jess had sparked in me.
But the pain was stronger. I’d never thought it would hurt so much to give up whatever was between us before it had even begun.
But it did. It hurt like crazy. Especially since I’d never even had the chance to talk to him.
To explain why I had to avoid him religiously from now on, when in fact what I wanted was the opposite.
So do it now.
That voice, the one that sounded suspiciously like Valerie, popped up again with a carefree tone, like it was no big deal to go looking for Jess in the middle of the night.
But that was insane. What if somebody saw me?
What if my family got wind of it? I’d given Lincoln my word that I would stick to our deal.
Still, I couldn’t let the idea go. It stirred me up so much that I got out of bed to think it through. I didn’t have Jess’s cell, and I didn’t know his room number. But maybe there was a way to find out.
Determined now, I went to the phone on the little writing desk by the window, picked up the handset, and dialed reception. It rang only once before somebody picked up.
“Mirage Hotel, you’re speaking to Brenda. How may I help you?”
“I need your help, Brenda,” I said, imitating Trish Coldwell’s imperious tone as best I could.
“I’m standing in room 754, where my son was apparently supposed to be staying, and to which somebody has given me a key card.
But instead, this room is strewn with a young woman’s belongings.
I need the correct room number immediately. ”
“Who is this, please?” Brenda asked, confused.
“Who is this?” I bristled. “You’re asking me who this is? This is Trish Coldwell. Now give me my son’s room number, or I can assure you, there will be consequences.”
“Of course, Mrs. Coldwell, please accept my apologies.” I heard Brenda tapping hectically. “Your son is in room 612.”
“That’s very kind of you, Brenda.” I hung up and took a deep breath, my heart beating out of my chest. Pretending to be Jess’s mother was incredibly risky, but it was the only thing that had come to mind on the spot.
I waited briefly, then lifted the handset again. But before I could dial 612, I paused. Hotels kept records of internal calls. I had to go to Jess in person, without letting him know first. It was dangerous in so many respects, but I wanted to talk to him. I had to talk to him, face-to-face.
And it has nothing to do with the fact that you want to pick up where you left off?
Ignoring the voice—since I couldn’t deny it—I grabbed the Japanese silk robe I always brought with me when I stayed in hotels; I didn’t like bathrobes, no matter how fluffy.
I pulled on the robe, along with the flat boots I’d brought to wear to breakfast tomorrow, and slipped my phone into my pocket.
Outside, the hall was dimly lit, but there was no one to be seen. I hurried toward the elevators.
Jess’s room was just one floor below mine, so to be safe, I took the stairs. There were bound to be a few guests at the bar still, and I didn’t want to run into any of them in my robe, or have to explain to anyone who knew me what I was doing out and about in this getup.
The sixth-floor corridor was quiet, too, and I hurried past the doors looking for number 612. I found it, took a quick look around, knocked, and waited.
Nothing happened.
Maybe Jess wasn’t there, or was already asleep? It was almost one in the morning, and I didn’t know exactly when he’d gone back to his room. Should I leave and try to talk to him again tomorrow? Or better to get ahold of his number and call him?
I was still wondering what to do when the door opened after all. At the sight of Jess in a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants, my stomach did a somersault.
“Hey.” I gave him a smile.
“Hey,” he replied, before he stepped aside to let me in and closed the door behind us. We hesitated for a moment in the entryway.
“Let me explain,” I began.
Jess shook his head. “There’s no need. I heard you and your brother. He seemed to be clear on what’s acceptable as far as you’re concerned. And I’m guessing it doesn’t include coming to my room.”
He sounded serious. I saw genuine concern in his eyes—as well as something else that made my chest tighten.
“No,” I said hoarsely. I cleared my throat.
“But I couldn’t help it. I had to see you.
” Jess was leaning against the opposite wall, and when I looked up again I met his gaze, and it spoke volumes.
The air between us grew so charged you could practically feel it.
I couldn’t think about anything except how much I wanted to kiss him. Touch him.
But I got a grip on myself.
“You heard?” I asked, doing my best to keep my need for him in check. “How much?”
“Most of it,” said Jess. “Especially the last bit, when he told you to stay away from me. It sounded like you were on the same page about that.” He took a deep breath. “Are you?”
Goddamn it, no, we aren’t, I thought. We were anything but on the same page.
Yet I wasn’t here to tell Jess the truth.
I was here to tell him a barefaced lie and put my family’s wishes ahead of my own.
That was what was expected of a Weston. What was expected of me.
And whether or not I could continue fighting for Valerie depended on it.
“Yes,” I managed finally. “We are.”