Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Eloise
I awaken with a start and push to sitting. My heart is racing, but that’s nothing new. My heart always races when I first wake up from a deeper sleep than I normally allow myself.
I look around, breathing heavily. It takes me a few seconds to remember where I am and how I got here. I blink several times, not sure whether to actually believe this is real.
The events of yesterday flood back into my mind. It seems so long ago since I screamed at my car on the side of the road right before being lured like a fool into letting a man help me…
As I sit on the mattress, I notice I’m surrounded by dolls and books. The pink bedding was tucked around me before I sat up. The room is bright and sunny because there are no window coverings, and I’m good with that. Blinds and curtains make me feel cooped up.
There’s a doll in my lap. I think I was sleeping with her in my arms. In fact, I held her against me while Cannon read me a book in the middle of the night.
I start shaking because I’m so…embarrassed?
I don’t think I need to be embarrassed. I might have carried all the dolls and animals over here, but I’m not the one who supplied them.
And I’m not the one who tucked this pretty babydoll into my arms and insinuated she needed to face out so she could see the book. That was Cannon.
But why?
He’s confusing. When he looks at me, his eyes smolder with the usual interest I see from men. Lust. Though Cannon’s isn’t so lascivious. He isn’t plotting how to cover my mouth and drag me out the back door to rape me. He just finds me attractive.
So why would he also seemingly encourage me to play with toys?
I turn to set my feet on the floor next to the mattress and freeze. There’s a plate on the floor next to me with a pack of toaster pastries and a sippy cup. There’s also a note.
I pick up the paper.
Eloise, I thought you might wake up hungry and thirsty, so I left you a snack in case you weren’t ready to come out of your room yet.
He’s so thoughtful. And he’s right. I’m starving and very thirsty. I’m also not ready to leave this room. I need to think.
I pick up the sippy cup and spin it around, giggling. It’s got princesses on the side. Why would he give me a sippy cup? I’m not a child. Maybe he just didn’t want me to accidentally kick it over when I awoke.
This same man dragged a mattress over to the window for me. He helped me set up the dolls along the wall and read me a story. I shouldn’t be surprised that he left me a sippy cup of apple juice.
It’s been so long since I’ve had toaster pastries that I wolf both down and polish off the juice. Eventually, I stand and look out the window. The city below is bustling. So many cars bumper to bumper. And the people walking on the sidewalks look like they’ll die if they don’t hurry.
I’m fascinated by the fact that I can’t hear anything. The glass is thick. It makes everything feel more surreal, as if it’s not really happening. More like a moving picture.
The sun is high in the sky. I’d say it’s almost noon. I’ve never slept this late in my life, but I’ve never had the opportunity to either. I could get used to this, but I mustn’t. One day. I’ll give myself today to pretend I’m one of the lucky ones.
Part of me would love to spend the entire day hiding in this perfect room. I feel like a princess in here. But that would be rude. The man who rescued me and gave me a place to sleep deserves for me to make an appearance and be polite.
I step off the mattress and hurry over to the bathroom.
After using the toilet, washing my hands, and brushing my teeth, I detangle my hair.
It feels so soft from the expensive shampoo and conditioner.
I haven’t had nice shampoo in years, and I haven’t had conditioner at all.
Most of the time, I didn’t even bother to comb through my hair. It was too hard without conditioner.
Curious, I open the other drawers on the vanity and discover cute hair bands and even bows. They’re so pretty. A lot of them are pink. I’ve never thought about pink. It was never a color that called to me. But now that I’m surrounded by it, I like it.
Pink is making me feel girly and pretty. It’s making me smile. I have the strangest sensation that I’m embracing all the childish things in this odd room because I never had them as a kid.
I have a fun idea, so I hurry back into the bedroom, open the drawers, and choose yet another pink outfit. This one is more like a dress with matching leggings. I put them on and then return to the bathroom to clip the pink bows in my hair.
Smiling, I stare at myself. I’m being silly.
I’m too old for this outfit and these bows, but they feel good.
I don’t think Cannon is going to make fun of me.
He didn’t last night, plus he’s the one who put all this stuff in the room for me.
Isn’t he? Maybe he didn’t choose it all, but he asked someone to choose for me.
He must have given them some directives.
I’m barefoot as I find the courage to open the door and step out into the hall.
For a moment, I don’t hear anything, so I’m not sure where Cannon might be.
Then his voice comes from another room, so I turn in that direction.
The door is open, so I round the corner.
Standing in the doorway, I realize this is definitely his home office, the room where he told me he had tons of books.
Cannon is facing the windows on the phone.
I take in the room. He wasn’t kidding. The bookshelves are floor-to-ceiling and loaded with books.
I’m nearly salivating. I wonder if he meant it when he said I could read anything I want.
I don’t want to be rude, but if I had my way, I would grab a pile of these books, return to the pink bedroom, rest against the pile of pillows, and read all day.
I could do that every single day for the rest of my life.
Who am I kidding? Nobody gets to do that. People have to work. I need to find a job and get out of his hair. But maybe just this one day? Maybe I could have two days? Maybe he would let me stay long enough to read Moby Dick if I promise to pay him back for his hospitality.
I slowly ease into the room, drawn toward the books like a magnet.
Cannon wasn’t talking when I entered. He was just listening. But now he speaks. “Sure. I’ll ask her. She’s not up yet.”
I jerk my gaze toward him just as he turns around.
He startles.
For a moment, I panic. What the hell was I thinking coming into his office without permission?
But in true Cannon style, he smiles and says, “Actually, she’s up now. I’ll call you back.” He puts his phone on the desk and comes toward me.
I rub my hands together. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come in without knocking. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything.”
When he reaches me, he cups my shoulders and frowns. “Eloise, you don’t need permission to come into any part of the apartment. If I’m on the phone, you might have to wait a minute for me to hang up, but you’re always welcome to seek me out.”
My cheeks flush. I’m not used to people being nice to me. I keep expecting him to shout at me. He never does.
“Did you eat the snack I left?”
“Yes. Thank you. It was delicious.”
He scrunches up his nose. “It was toaster pastries that weren’t even toasted. Gross.”
I smile. “I liked them.”
“Let’s get some real food in you, yeah?” He takes my hand and guides me out of his office.
I look over my shoulder, yearning for the books.
Suddenly, he stops and snaps his fingers as if he’s forgotten something. He releases me, takes quick strides over to the shelves, and pulls out a book. When he joins me again, he holds it out. “As requested.”
I’m stunned. I don’t know why. He hasn’t lied to me so far. Why would he tell me he had Moby Dick or that I could read it if he didn’t actually have a copy?
I take the book from him. “Thank you so much. I’ll be really careful with it. I promise.”
“It’s a book, Eloise. Not a first edition or anything. It’s just a dog-eared copy from a few years ago. No need to be careful. I might have folded the pages or even written in the margins of that one.”
I gasp, my jaw dropping.
He laughs. “Are you one of those people who think it’s sacrilegious to open a book all the way and break the spine?”
My eyes widen more.
He laughs harder. “Okay. I get it. I promise I won’t touch your books. But you’re welcome to touch any of mine, and I won’t mind how you treat them. They’re meant to be loved. I can always tell when a book has been enjoyed if it has a coffee stain on it and the cover is bent.”
“Coffee stain,” I nearly shout. “You can’t bring drinks near books. What a heathen.”
His eyes dance with mirth as he pulls me against his chest. “Speaking of coffee, do you drink it? I wasn’t sure if I should make you some.”
I forget to filter myself as I respond. “I’ve never tried it. I wasn’t allowed to drink it.”
He tips my face back. “When were you not allowed to drink it? In high school or more recently?”
I purse my lips. I don’t want to have this conversation. I’m not ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. When I escaped, I never imagined a day when I would meet someone I might trust enough to tell my saga.
Maybe I could unload my burden on Cannon, but not yet. It will taint everything. He won’t look at me the same with laughter in his eyes.
He rubs my back. “It’s okay, Little one.
You’ll tell me when you’re ready. Let’s go to the kitchen.
So probably no on the coffee. If you’ve never had it, you might think it’s gross.
What are you in the mood for? Breakfast or lunch?
It’s almost noon. I could make lunch, but if you’d rather have eggs and bacon, I can do that, too. ”
When have I ever had food choices? It’s hard to answer him. I’m not sure I’m capable of making decisions like that. It’s kind of overwhelming. “You pick,” I say, following him to the kitchen.
I’m hugging Moby Dick against my chest. I can’t wait to read it. It’s been four years since I read the first chapter, so I’ll start over from the beginning.
When we reach the kitchen, Cannon surprises me by lifting me by the waist and setting me on one of the stools around the island. He meets my gaze. “Are you just being polite, or do you truly not have an opinion?”
I chew on my bottom lip. “Both?”
“Okay. Is there anything you don’t like?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve never eaten anything very exotic before, though, so there could be foods I don’t like.”
“I make a mean sandwich. How does that sound?”
“Amazing.”
He smiles warmly. “You look very pretty in this outfit, by the way. Do you like it, or did you put it on because you didn’t have a lot of options?”
“I like it. I’ve never owned anything this girly or pink.”
“I have a lot of pink in the house, don’t I?
I always figured one day I would meet the perfect match for me, and for some reason, I assumed she would like pink.
” He shrugs. “But I was guessing. I don’t want you to be stuck in a bubblegum room if you hate it.
Say the word and you can change the colors. ”
I giggle. “A bubblegum room?”
“Cotton candy?” he teases.
How has this man managed to get me to let down my walls so fast that I’m actually laughing? “I like it.”
“Okay, but if you change your mind…”
“Why do you have a pink room, anyway? And all those toys?” I haven’t commented on his statement that he’s been looking for a perfect match, implying that it was me. It’s too far out there to internalize.
He slides his hands up to cup my neck and shoulders, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs. I love it when he does this. It makes me feel important, like I matter. Like he wants my undivided attention by giving me his.
“Toys and pretty things aren’t just for kids, you know. Adults can enjoy them, too.”
I hold his gaze. I’m confused. I get what he’s saying, but why would he have all those things for someone he’s never met? Not all adults like toys. I lick my lips. “It’s kind of a gamble, though, isn’t it? I mean, what if you meet someone who thinks toys are silly?”
“First of all, if I had met someone who thought toys were silly, she wouldn’t have been the right woman for me.
I wouldn’t have been attracted to her. But I didn’t.
I met someone who immediately carried all the dolls and stuffed animals to the corner of the room to read to them by the light coming from the window. ”
I swallow. “You say that like you’ve found your soulmate.”
He lifts a brow. “I believe I have, Little one.”
“Me?” My voice squeals.
“Yes, you.”
My jaw drops. He keeps insinuating things like this, and it’s hard to wrap my head around, let alone believe. I can’t entertain such an idea. I’ll end up hurt badly when he tires of me. It would be better if I didn’t let myself get attached to him. I should leave today.
I start trembling as my emotions get the better of me. I can’t stay here. The longer I’m here, the harder it will be to leave. Already, I’m so attracted to the alternate reality that tears well up in my eyes at the thought of leaving.
That pink room is so pretty. The bathtub… I was really looking forward to using the tub in his bathroom, too. The one with the jets. Who the hell do I think I am? The queen?
I lower my head. “I should go,” I murmur.
“Go?” His voice is a full pitch higher now. “Go where?”
“Away. I’ve stayed too long. It will be easier if I don’t know more about your life or all your nice things. There are several shelters in Seattle. I’ll find one with an opening and try to forget this ever happened.”