Chapter 17 #2
I slipped out of the dressing room, pulling the curtain closed behind her again, and wandered back into the main store.
I walked until I was sure I was out of her sight then pulled out my phone, opening a new text thread with my dad.
I deleted all the messages with him after seeing him so nobody would get suspicious of why I was texting an unknown number, so I had to start fresh.
I wasn’t sure what exactly I was going to say now—I was thinking about my birthday party this weekend and I want you there?
Of course I wanted him there, but saying so wasn’t going to change anything.
It wasn’t going to undo the rift through my family or make him any more welcome there by anyone else.
“Imogen? Is that you?” a curious voice came from my side.
I immediately shoved my phone back in my pocket, heart pounding at the idea of someone questioning who I was texting.
But when I looked up, I realized I didn’t need to bother.
Hilary smiled at me, so wide and so fake. “What are you doing here, honey?”
I cringed at her calling me honey but didn’t say anything. Immediately, I heard Cole’s voice in my head, asking me why I didn’t fight back and why I let her speak to me like a child.
Hilary gestured vaguely at the racks around us, like the answer should’ve been obvious. “I didn’t know you shopped here,” she said, still smiling. Her lipstick was perfect, her hair glossy and curled in that effortless way that definitely took effort.
“I’m just… with my sister,” I said. I hated how defensive it sounded, like I’d been caught doing something wrong. I shifted my weight, suddenly very aware of the little gold plaque on her chest with her name.
“Oh!” she said brightly, following my gaze without missing a beat. “Yeah, I started here a couple of weeks ago. Seasonal help.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “The employee discount is dangerous.”
I pushed away my surprise that she worked—I’d been convinced for months that my dad covered all her living expenses—and glanced back toward the dressing rooms on instinct, a spike of panic shooting through me at the thought of Ainsley pulling the curtain back and walking straight into this.
She wouldn’t know who Hilary was, of course, but how easy would it be for her to figure it out?
What if she put two and two together, and realized how I knew Hilary?
As if she could sense my discomfort, Hilary put a hand on my shoulder and guided me deeper into the store, further out of sight from the dressing rooms. She did it so casually that I would have thought it was a natural move if I’d watched her do it with someone else, but I knew better.
She was making sure we were hidden from view because she knew Ainsley couldn’t see us.
She had plenty of experience sneaking around, and even though she and Dad could officially be together now, she still remembered how.
And through it all, her smile never wavered. It gave me the chills.
“So,” Hilary said, drawing the word out like she was savoring it, “are you shopping for something special, or are you just here to give moral support?”
I tightened my grip on my phone in my pocket. “Just looking.”
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded slowly. “You know, we’re slammed today.
Everyone’s scrambling for the perfect outfit for Christmas parties and New Year’s.
You know how it is.” She waved her hand in the air flippantly, like we were making the most casual conversation and not like I was trying to plot my escape from the second bad conversation in two days.
“I should get back to my sister,” I said, taking a step sideways, trying to angle around her.
She shifted too, still smiling, still blocking me without touching me. “Of course. Family first.” The words were syrupy. “Your dad’s big on that.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He mentioned your birthday,” she went on lightly. “This weekend, right? Such a big one.” She tilted her head. “Sixteen?”
I was surprised she remembered since she always treated me like I was five years old instead of fifteen. But I nodded anyway.
Hilary hummed to herself. “Well, if you are still looking,” she said, stepping back at last and gesturing expansively to the racks, “I’d suggest something simple. Clean lines. Nothing that tries too hard.” Her eyes flicked down me, assessing, then back up. “You don’t want the dress to wear you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said stiffly.
“Tell you what,” Hilary said. “Why don’t I pick out some dresses for you to try?”
“Actually, I was about to head out,” I said. “Ainsley found her dress and—”
“You didn’t?” Hilary tilted her head, faux concern softening her voice. “Oh, honey, we can’t have that. Tell you what—why don’t I pick out a dress for you? I’ll have your dad take care of it. You just try it on at home, no stress. Easy, right?”
I froze for a second, my mind racing. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but Ainsley was still in the dressing room, completely unaware of Hilary. If she saw us…
“Uh… yeah, sure,” I said quickly, nodding. “That… that sounds fine. Totally fine.”
Hilary’s smile stretched wider, just a touch smug. “Wonderful. I know exactly what will look good on you. Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Great!” I said a little too quickly. “Yeah… that sounds… perfect.” My stomach flipped. “I should—uh—I should get going, though. My sister’s waiting.”
Hilary didn’t budge, still smiling like a cat that caught the canary. “Of course. But you’ll love what I pick. Trust me.”
I swallowed hard, feeling my heart race. “Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks, really. That’s… super helpful.”
Finally, she stepped back, gesturing to the racks. “Consider it done, honey. I’ll send it to your dad, and he can get it to you before the weekend. Easy-peasy.”
“Perfect,” I said again, my voice rushing. “Exactly what I need. Thanks so much!”
I seized the moment and slipped past her, pulling my phone out of my pocket and texting Ainsley to meet me outside once she was done. My legs felt like jelly as I kept my eyes forward, ignoring Hilary’s still-too-bright smile behind me. Anywhere but here.
I stumbled into the hallway of the mall, almost crashing into a family of five when I didn’t look where I was going.
I mumbled an apology, watching as the dad swept the youngest girl closer to him, hugging him close to his legs as they continued forward.
She smiled up at him with all the love in the world and suddenly I wanted to throw up.
“What are we looking at?” a voice whispered in my ear. I yelped and on instinct, swung a hand up.
My wrist was caught mid-swing, fingers wrapping around it with effortless strength. I sucked in a breath, heart slamming against my ribs as he leaned in, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him at my back.
“Easy,” he murmured, voice low and amused, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Though… those were impressive reflexes.”
I tried to yank my hand free, but his grip tightened just enough to remind me I wouldn’t win that fight. I turned, scowling up at him, and of course it was Cole. Leather jacket, lazy smirk, dark eyes flicking briefly toward the end of the hall before returning to me.
“Seriously, though,” he said. “What were you looking at? Staring after the next guy I need to beat up for you?”
I scowled and tried to yank my hand back again. This time, he let go, but even with his hand gone, I still felt the imprint of his fingers on my skin.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. My voice was probably a little too accusing given that I was in a public mall that anybody could come to if they wanted, but seriously, how many times could I run into this guy?
He pressed an arm against the wall above me, leaning over me like he’d done last night.
My heart pounded as he leaned in closer.
Feigning defiance, I tilted my chin up to be able to look into his eyes.
He arched a brow at me, a smile toying at his lips..
“When will you get it through your head?” he asked, his voice a low, teasing whisper.. “I’m your stalker.”
“I guess I thought that only applied to weekdays. My mistake.”
He chuckled, leaning back slightly. Suddenly the air around us seemed so much colder. “Weekends are prime stalking hours. Less predictable.”
“You need a hobby,” I said. “Something normal. Drawing. Birdwatching. Court-ordered community service.”
“Ouch.” He pressed his hand flatter against the wall, not touching me, but close enough that my shoulder brushed his jacket when I breathed. “And here I thought showing up to make sure you didn’t get trampled by families wandering around was heroic.”
I stared into his eyes, which were so deep and brown that I felt like I could get lost in them forever. “I didn’t ask you to save me.”
“No,” he agreed easily. “And yet, you haven’t walked away yet.”
“I’m trapped,” I shot back. “You’ve got me pinned here. You’re impossible.”
“And you are very bad at walking away when you should.” He winked and I felt my knees go weak. Then the playfulness seemed to dim, his features softening as he took me in again and said, “So, what’s got you looking so angry right now, Princess?”
“I don’t look angry.”
“No?” He used his free hand to brush at my face, running a thumb between my eyebrows where I hadn’t realized I’d been tense. “You might want to tell that to your face.”