Chapter 9
Holland
The flight back was so quiet I thought I was in the private jet alone.
Then and now, Theo acts like nothing has changed as his driver takes me back to my apartment. I sense the gulf between us. Like we’re strangers forced to share a ride.
His shoulders are stiff and he’s staring out the window. Back to his aloof before-the-island self. Acting like he never touched me.
But I swear I can still feel the touch of his hands exploring me. The friction of his body moving on mine. The heated demand of his mouth making my body burn for him.
“Your grandmother might suspect something is off since we returned earlier than expected,” I say, wanting to engage him in conversation because the silence is too cold.
“Actually, this works in our favor.” His tone is clipped. All business. “While you were packing to leave the island, she called and I told her we were having issues.”
“What did she say?”
“Not much, but she wants you to accompany me to her birthday party next week.” He glances at me.
“I will,” I promise. “What should we do in the meantime?”
“Do?”
“About this so-called relationship between us.”
“Nothing. Grandmother will return to Lucky River so there’s no need for us to interact.”
He says that like he’s thankful we won’t see each other.
The moment the car stops moving in front of my building, before his driver can exit to open the door for me, Theo pulls up a document on his phone and begins to read it. “If there are any issues, I’ll call you.”
Like he’s my boss and this meeting is officially over. Which, I suppose thanks to the contract, he is. I feel weird. Slighted, maybe. Hurt? No, that can’t be it. I knew what I was getting into when I signed the contract.
The driver removes my luggage, then wishes me a good rest of my day. Theo doesn’t look up as the car pulls away.
“What the hell?” I mutter, hauling my suitcase up the stairs, irritation growing with each step. By the time I reach the apartment door, I have a full blown mad on. Whatever his deal is, he didn’t have to act so cold.
I wait for Heidi to unfasten the chain.
She steps aside to let me enter, relief all over her face.
“I’m so glad you’re back early.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Your dad stopped by yesterday.”
My stomach knots. “Did he ask you for money? I hope you didn’t give him any.”
“He didn’t ask. He said he wanted to talk to you, then he used the bathroom and left.”
“The one in my room?”
“Yeah.”
Shit. I rush to my room frantically searching where I left my copy of the contract. I heave a sigh of relief. It’s still there, undisturbed.
I hate that my first instinct was to wonder what he wanted to steal, but I know my father. I take out my phone to call him.
He answers on the first ring.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“I wanted to take my daughter out and buy her a little something. Can’t a father do that?” His voice is soft and gentle, not his usual loud and belligerent.
I don’t believe it and laugh without humor. “We haven’t had that kind of relationship since I left with Mom.”
“I miss her,” he says sadly.
It’s his fault she left, but there’s no use in digging into old wounds he’ll deny causing. “You want to buy me something? Where did you get the money since you failed to steal Grandma’s home?”
“That was a mistake.”
“Sure.”
He exhales sharply. “I am trying, Holland. I really am.”
The words are empty and meaningless. Nothing will change no matter how vehemently he says it will. Been there. Bought the lies.
“I should have believed you and your brother shouldn’t have sided with his friends.”
The abruptness of him dragging up the past catches me unawares. I don’t want to deal with those memories. I don’t want to think about what I lost. I squeeze my hand into a fist. “I’m busy, so—”
“Wait,” he protests, “I want you to know that everything I do from here on out is for your benefit.”
He disconnects and a sense of foreboding washes over me. But there’s nothing I can do for now. Whatever he’s scheming, I know I’ll eventually discover it. Probably when he calls to ask me to bail him out of jail. Again.
The way my father lives his life is why I changed my last name from Jackson to my mother’s maiden name of Flanagan.
“What was that about?” Heidi asks walking into the room carrying a soda and sits on my bed.
“He was performing his make amends act again.”
“Oh.” She’s silent for a moment, then says, “How was the tropical paradise?”
I tell her about the hotel and she says, “Underwater? Get out! Really?”
“It was beautiful. A little claustrophobic at first, but I ended up liking it.” What I really liked was how Theo’s mouth felt on me. How he swore he’d ruin me for anyone else.
“Well, I didn’t have a tropical getaway,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “but I did go on a date.”
“That cute guy you said you work with?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Remember the attorney who helped us with the dresses and then later he came by the apartment?”
“Attorney Fare?”
“Yes, him. He called and asked me out. Normally, he wouldn’t be my type at all because he’s so…”
“Farm boy comes to the big city for the first time?”
She laughs. “Maybe that’s it. He’s very sweet and shy. Genuine, though. He actually paid attention when I talked and after the date was over, I thought for sure he was going to stay when I invited him in.”
“He didn’t?”
She makes a face. “No. I puckered my lips when he leaned toward me, but then he kissed me on the forehead.”
I laugh. “Are you going to see him again?”
“Tonight, and again this weekend.” She grins. “There are a couple of handsome guys in his office. I could ask him to introduce you to one when you’re done with Theo.”
Done with Theo. How odd that sounds. Especially since I’m counting the days until I get to see him again.
Given the cold way he behaved on the drive here, I shouldn’t feel that way. And my heart shouldn’t flutter when my phone rings and I see that it’s him calling.
“Don’t worry about getting a dress for the party,” he says without even a greeting. “I’ll have one sent to you.”
“I have dresses.”
He hesitates and I get it.
“Ah. Super rich people who will look down on you if you show up with a woman wearing a discount dress?”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what those people think about me.”
“Then you’re worried about what people think about me?” The thought warms me.
“It’s for my grandmother’s sake.”
The warmth dissipates. He doesn’t want people to look down on his grandmother. I guess I can understand that. Their world is vastly different from mine. In my world designer labels don’t mean a damn thing. What’s important is beating the struggle to put food on the table and paying the rent.
“Okay,” I say, gripping the phone tighter, not wanting the call to end.
“Goodnight, Holland.”
I briefly close my eyes at how he says my name. Softly. Regretfully. “Goodnight, Theo.”
My fingers tremble and I drop the phone. Then I take a deep breath to calm myself. I cannot, absolutely cannot, afford to fool myself into thinking there are any possibilities in my relationship with Theo other than a breakup.