Authors: Ginger Voight
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Sagas
Clearly I was just managing the stress of the upcoming move.
Nancy carried a cardboard boxes loaded with books toward the moving van that Saturday morning. Our eyes met and we shared a smile. “You didn’t have as much stuff when you moved in,” she pointed out wryly. “How many boxes of books is this? Seriously. It’s like you’re living in a freaking library.”
I shrugged. “
You know me. I have a bit of a book fetish.”
“I wouldn’t mind the books if you’d join us in the 21
st
century and get an e-reader already. Then when you move a thousand books from place to place, I don’t risk throwing my back out.”
“Well, I am very gra
teful that you braved the risk,” I said as I kissed her cheek.
“How could I not? It may be the last time I ever see you again.”
I rolled my eyes. She was determined to make this hard for me.
Even as she and Greg moved me out of that 900-square-foot apartment, she would make her little comments as a last ditch effort to pull me from the edge of the rabbit hole. I ignored them all until we stood just outside the full moving van. “You wouldn’t go for coffee with Greg’s best friend, but you’re moving a half a country away to live with some man I’ve never met.” She took my hands in hers. “I’ll never understand you, Rachel.”
I pulled her into a hug. “That’s because you’re looking at this the wrong way. I’m not moving across the country to live with Drew. I’m doing it to help his son. You’re a teacher, Nance. You know what motivates me.”
“More than anyone,” she said as our eyes met and held. “
If this is about Jason,” she started but I stopped her short.
“I’m not talking about this with you,” I said as I pulled away.
In all honesty, this was one of the biggest reasons I had finally made the decision to leave. I could never get beyond my past in Texas. Every place and every person was a reminder of all I had lost. Frankly, it was a nice change of pace to move somewhere that no one knew about my past. I could just be “Rachel” again, instead of “poor Rachel.” For that reason alone, I couldn’t wait to get out of there.
I fished the keys from the front pocket of my jeans and headed toward the brand new car I had purchased. It was a hybrid car sure to save me gas as I motored from Texas to California, even though strict budgets were no longer a pressing concern.
After ten years struggling to make ends meet, however, these were habits not easily broken.
“It’s way too late to start out now,” Nancy said
as she followed behind. “Stay with us for the night.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t take another eighteen hours of her fruitless campaign
to keep me Texas bound. “It’s barely after noon. I’ll make it to El Paso in about ten hours.”
Nancy glanced desperately to Greg, who shrugged his shoulders as he swung into the cab of the rental truck. He had already offered to set my stuff up in storage for me so I could get on the road. There were tears in Nancy’s eyes as she reached for one more hug.
“I don’t want you to go,” she finally said.
“I got that,” I said with a giggle through my own tears. “You tried everything short of hog-tying me
with rope and duct tape.”
“If I thought I could ge
t away with it…” she started, and we both laughed.
“
You do know that you saved my life three years ago, right? I owe everything good that happens to me to you. Even this. I love you, Nancy.”
She nodded. “I love you, too.” She squeezed my hands
, overcome with the words that she couldn’t bear to say. “Be careful. Call me whenever you stop.”
I nodded and got into my car. I wasn’t taking very much with me, given that I was set up like some kind of queen at the Fullerton mansion
anyway. I just took a couple of boxes of my favorite books, a couple of suitcases and bin full of photos and memorabilia too precious to trust in a storage unit for a year.
I waved at Nancy until I could no longer see her down the street, then turned toward the tangle of highways that would lead me to Interstate 20. This
winding stretch of highway would be my companion through much of Texas.
After Midland/Odessa, I hit a stretch of highway where the speed limit
opened up 80 miles per hour. It helped ease the monotony of the endless, barren terrain of West Texas. A thunderstorm hit just before I reached the mountains east of El Paso, which lit up the night sky for my own personal light show just as Interstate 20 merged with Interstate 10.
It was a straight shot to California from
there on out.
I stopped on the western edge of El Paso for the night, and within eight hours I was back out on the road. New Mexico offered the same desert scenery as West Texas, but thankfully not as long. I made it all the way to Tucson before I stopped again.
I was in Los Angeles by six o’clock that Monday. Jonathan, who had texted me every hour on the hour the entire three-day journey, already had alerted Cleo when to expect my arrival, so there was a meal prepared for me the moment I pulled into the drive. Harrison unloaded my car while Jonathan dragged me around by the hand to show me all the changes that had been made for me.
The guest room was now formally my room. The shelves had been emptied so I could decorate with my belongings, making the space my own.
Drew had also allotted a room for me as my office, so I could keep my living space and my working space separate. The office was adjacent to his study downstairs, but Jonathan assured me his father hardly ever worked from home. I could feel free to work early in the morning or late into the evening without any fear of disturbing him.
There were gift baskets waiting for me in my private bath. All the cosmetics I had used before were replenished with all sorts of oils and beads and fizzy bath bombs to help ease the stressors of my new position.
My biggest stressor thus far was dealing with Drew. While we had formed a cordial working relationship over the last few months courtesy of video chat, I was worried how being under the same roof now would affect the burgeoning camaraderie we had managed to build. Things were working out so well that I didn’t want to be waylaid by another inappropriate dream. Thanks to Nancy and all her soap opera/reality TV/gossip mag jibber jabber, it had insidiously reprogrammed my subconscious to include things I normally never gave a second thought. Had she not been barking in my ear about what people would say about our unconventional relationship, or think about me in the process, I wouldn’t have associated Drew and sex at all. That was definitely a complication I didn’t need, and I was fairly certain he didn’t even want, which made me feel even more foolish for having the dream in the first place.
Initially I had been
so thrown by the experience that I didn’t talk to Drew for a week following the dream. Fortunately he was busy enough that he probably never even noticed; which helped ease any lingering embarrassment.
Admittedly
I was slightly unnerved to see him in person. It had gnawed at my gut all 1452 miles from Texas to California. Much to my relief, I discovered Drew was not at the house when I arrived. He had flown to San Francisco that morning for a meeting, and wasn’t expected home until later that night.
It gave me plenty of time to unpack and unwind. Jonathan helped for the most part, though I was sure it was just an excuse to hang out in my bedroom and chat and catch up. He had flown into my arms from the minute I had stepped out of my car. I wasn’t able to shake him loose most of the evening.
He had made my cheeseburger meatloaf in honor of my homecoming, which had touched me. Since his father wasn’t home, we didn’t bother with the formal dining room. We ate in the kitchen, perched around the island, and then got right to the business of moving me in.
Since I only had five boxes and two suitcases, that wasn’t a Herculean task by any stretch.
He unpacked my books on the bookshelves, while I hung my clothes. The last bin, the last ties to my past, I shoved into a corner. They were close enough so that I would never forget, but hidden enough that I didn’t have to be painfully reminded of those things, and people, who were no more.
By the time
Drew came home, we were sitting by the pool outside, enjoying the mild summer evening with iced tea and powdered lemon cookies Cleo had baked especially for me.
My breath caught as
I watched him stride across the grass to where we sat, as if I had forgotten how commanding his very presence was. He looked powerful and imposing in his dark designer suit with ultra-fine pinstripes, styled from his cufflinks all the way down to his shiny, expensive shoes. He had already discarded his tie, so his stark white dress shirt was partially opened at the collar, revealing the tanned skin of his chest. I looked away instantly, though I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.
“Miss Dennehy,” he greeted with a warm smile. “It is so good to see you. You had a safe trip, I presume?”
I nodded as I stood, again without knowing why. I reached for his outstretched hand for a friendly shake. “It was long but uneventful.”
“It wasn’t too boring, I hope.”
“Rule number one,” Jonathan piped up. “We never get bored.”
I chuckled as I mussed his hair. “And that
, sir, is why you are my number one, A-plus student.”
He scowled playfully. “I’m your only student.”
Drew watched our interaction with a satisfied grin. He turned back to me. “Are you all settled in? Is there anything you need?”
“If so, I can take care of it,” I assured him. “But thank you for the welcome baskets. That was a
sweet gesture.”
He waved a hand. “It was the least I could do. Sort of a peace offering for the next couple of weeks. I’m going to London tomorrow morning.”
This was such great news I nearly breathed a sigh of relief. I could tell his glittering eyes missed nothing. “Jonathan and I have plenty to keep us busy, so you don’t need to worry about that.”
He nodded and then glanced down at Jonathan. “Could you excuse us moment, Jonathan?”
Jonathan nodded and walked toward the house, using the excuse to snag another plate of cookies. Drew turned toward me. “I do need to speak with you privately before I go, to discuss some of the changes around the house since you’ve been gone. Tonight would be best, if you’re not too tired.”
S
tanding in his presence had unsettled me more than I had wanted to admit. Seeing him in person was quite different than the safe, two-dimensional image I had grown used to over the past few months. In fact, though it had buried itself deep within my subconscious, remnants of the sexy dream awoke from their sleeping place to whisper in my ear every time our eyes met. Again I looked away. I truly needed to get this under control if I wanted to keep working for this man.
Though I already knew he wasn’t likely to pounce
on me the minute he got me alone, all the feelings from that buried dream bubbled up and nearly chocked my reply. “That sounds fine,” I managed.
He gave a curt nod. “I’ll be in my study late. Meet with me after you put Jonathan to bed.”
I said nothing as he turned back toward the house. For a moment I was thrown by his instruction. I was Jonathan’s teacher, not his nursemaid. Why was I in charge of putting him to bed?
Maybe these were part of the changes he wanted to discuss. None of it made me feel any better as I walked on shaking legs to the study an hour and a half later.
Drew had discarded his jacket over the back of his chair. His shirt was opened by yet another button. This revealed hints of the fine dark hair smattered lightly on his chest as he leaned on his elbows to pore over documents scattered across the monstrous mahogany desk. His light eyes swept over my casual attire as I stood frozen in the doorway. “Thank you for seeing me,” he said as he stood briefly to beckon me inside. “May I pour you a drink?”
I was almost panicked as I shook my head. I opted to sit in the
chair across from his desk than on that leather sofa looming large against the opposite wall. “I’m fine,” I assured.
He wore a sardonic smirk as we both sat. “You probably won’t be after I tell you what I have to tell you.” He took a deep breath. “As you are aware, Elise has supervi
sed visits with Jonathan now. An hour or so, once a week. They aren’t here at the house, obviously. Since Elise and her new companion live in Venice, they prefer to meet at the Santa Monica pier. Harrison drives him there and back. It’s just easier for everyone if Elise and I don’t see each other.”
I nodded. “What does this have to do with me?”
He leaned back in his chair, his hands linked in his lap. “Jonathan hasn’t been responding well to the visits. They are understandably awkward for everyone involved, and I believe Jonathan feels responsible.”
“I can tell you right now that he does. Many kids of divorce shoulder some of the responsibility for the breakup of the marriage
, rightly or wrongly. When you two don’t get along, he feels compelled to make it right for the both of you. Or, to put it more bluntly, when the adults act like kids, the kids feel the need to step into adult roles way before they are ready.”
Instead of being chastised or offended, he nodded. “That’s why I need you to help him process this in a healthy way. He listens to you. He trusts you.”