Hope for Her (Hope #1) (14 page)

One of the house attendants waited for us outside to drive us around to the front of the house for our entrance, over-the-top and obnoxious. At least they didn't announce every guest like at a state dinner. I turned to watch Carrington, and her face made it worth it. She loved all this shit.

"You look beautiful," I said and grazed her lips.

"I thought your dad would like the garnet and gold."

"And, here I thought you dressed up for me," I said half joking.

"I did, but I want him to like me."

"He is going to love you." I kissed her, placed her hand in the crook of my arm, and led her to the party. "Just like I do."

My father spotted us as soon as we entered the foyer of the house. This room always reminded me of the lobby of an insanely expensive hotel. We only used this entrance for special events.

"Joshua, my son," my father said as he pulled me into a spine crushing hug.

"Hi Dad," I said and noted how small my voice sounded after his.

"What did you bring?" he whispered in my ear as he let me go and greeted Carrington. His eyes traveled up and down her body and Carrington stared away, rubbing her arms.

"Dad, this is Carrington Butler." Carrington lowered her eyes and reached out her hand. "Carr, this is my dad."

"Hi Mister Griffin." Her voice sounded small, too. I figured she would be nervous, but I wondered what happened to the confident, assertive, gorgeous woman who had just seduced me in my room.

"Well, aren't you cute," Dad said. "What a lovely dress."

"Thank you, sir," Carrington said as she ran her hands over her dress.

Dad turned to me. "Son, you should have bought this lovely thing by sooner, she sure brightens up the place."

My dad’s eyes took one more pass over Carrington and then turned and placed his arm around my shoulder and left Carrington to follow as we walked further into the party.

Her head tilted down, she wouldn't meet my gaze, and her eyes darted around taking in the party's atmosphere.

She seemed like a scared kitten, but I had no time to comfort her, my father wanted me by his side.

I recognized everyone at the party, but my father introduced me anyway.

"Hi Carter, you remember my son?" he asked and everyone nodded and shook hands, clamoring for my father's attention.

I wanted to stop my father, grab Carrington's hand, and show her off, but my father's firm grasp on my shoulder clued me in. My place was with him and her place was to blend into the background. That was what she did. It was almost like she knew her role, too.

He slighted her, and she noticed it, but brushed it off. She handled it like she expected it. I swore to myself that I would make it up to her when we returned to my room. My father might treat her like garbage, but she had to know she meant the world to me.

I lost track of Carrington when my dad's new fiancée made her entrance. The media covering the party needed a family photo. We posed for photos—playing the happy, solid, and supportive family.

I found myself enjoying it. I enjoyed the way my father acknowledged me and asked me questions. He had never treated me like this. Even if it was only for the cameras, I’d take it—happy to be on my father's good side for once.

Carrington spoke to my sister. She smiled and wandered around the room, shaking hands and waving. I heard her laugh, her fake laugh, and I stopped worrying and enjoyed the rest of the night by my father's side, laughing and joking as he bragged about his latest adventures.

With the party in full swing, my dad pulled me aside. "Son, let's go have a chat."

I followed him into his study, and the proud father act came to an abrupt end as he closed the door behind me.

In his office, he poured two drinks and handed me one. I shook my head at the drink and turned around and sat on the edge of his desk.

"Oh, that's right. You don't drink anymore," Dad said. His sarcasm punched me in the gut. My father thought my addiction was a sign of weakness. I wondered what he considered his addictions.

"What is it Dad?"

"I wanted to spend a minute alone with you to see where your head is. See how you're doing."

"I'm fine. Don't I look fine?"

"Yeah, you look fine. You look healthy and wide-eyed. Ready to change the world."

"What do you mean?"

"Your little girlfriend there."

"What about her?"

"I don't know. She doesn't seem to be the kind of girl you normally go for." Dad threw back his drink and picked up the one he poured for me, and downed that one too. "I mean, sure she's beautiful. She fucking hot. But if you brought her here to get to me, well, it worked. You have my attention."

"I didn't bring her here to do anything to you. She's my girlfriend."

"Come on Josh. You can't be serious." He chuckled. "Sure, have some fun. Date her, fuck her, do what you want to her, but you don't introduce her at a family event."

"This is ridiculous." I jumped off the desk.

"Don't walk away from me, son."

"I don't have to listen to this."

"Yes you do.” His booming voice stopped me in my tracks, but when I turned, his face and his demeanor remained calm and in control. “I understand you're mad at me and maybe you have a right to be, but bringing your black girlfriend to my engagement party is not the way to get back at me."

I hated the way he said black girlfriend, like Carrington was a lab animal.

"What the fuck dad? It’s 2013 not 1860." I walked up to my father. "You know they even gave black people the right to vote."

"You can't be this naive," Dad said as he walked back behind his desk and sat down hard into his chair. He positioned himself in his most authoritative posture in order to make a point. Position and perception meant everything to my father—his favorite mantra.

"Son, have your fun, but I don't want you to bring her around this house ever again."

"Fine."

"Son, do you understand me." He leaned forward in his chair.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm doing this for your own good. You show her all of this, and when you're ready to get rid of her, she gets clingy thinking she has a chance to have this for herself. All she needs to do is capture some Griffin sperm, and she's set for life. Be careful son, women these days . . ."

I stood listening to my father, but I didn't hear a word he said. I was concentrating on preventing my brain from exploding. My urge to use again was growing, if only to quiet the pounding in my head.

My dad's gold digger rants were as famous as his
son this is your legacy
speech. His opinion on the color of my girlfriend's skin didn't surprise me either. What shocked the hell out of me was how little progress I made moving away from his influences.

The more he talked, the further I regressed into the child. I won't ever live up to his expectations; I might as well stop trying.

Chapter Seventeen

Carrington Olivia Butler

All my doubts and fears disappeared in the couple of hours we spent in his room, getting ready for the party. We began the evening with mind-blowing sex. My dress got the exact reaction I hoped for. Josh loved it, and I loved the way he looked at me.

We entered the party arm and arm and in a matter of minutes, all my doubts returned and the insecurities I had all throughout high school came back, too. I was the dumb little black girl playing dress up at the grown-ups party.

The way people were staring me down, I kept checking to make sure nothing popped out. I tightened my grip on Josh's arm, but somehow when I squeezed a second time, he was gone. His father had pulled him into an embrace, and I stood there feeling out of place.

Mr. Griffin stopped talking and looked me up and down. He reached out to shake my hand, but his eyes never left my chest. I fought the urge to cover up. Josh shook his head as he stood a little out of the way, watching. I tried to catch his eyes, but he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.

His father shook my hand and complimented me on my dress. I refrained from dropping in a deep curtsey. Then his father guided Josh further into the party and further away from me. I followed for a minute but soon broke away from the Griffin procession and wandered around the room on my own. I spoke to a few people. I smiled and waved at Amanda and Erin, who were whispering, but snapped to attention whenever their father needed something. When Mr. Griffin's fiancée made her entrance, the entire party fell in silent awe. I half expected to turn around and see the Queen of England.

She was tall and blond, and her chest entered the room before the rest of her. She seemed embarrassed by the ceremony and a little out of place.

When we found ourselves standing next to each other at one of the buffet tables, I introduced myself, but she dismissed me.

After a glass of champagne and more idle chitchat with an older woman who asked about how much I charge for my nanny services, I decided to wander the halls of the house and find my way back to Josh's room.

I headed down the hallway and stopped when I heard familiar voices coming from a closed door.

Josh and his father spoke in muffled tones, not arguing, but rather Mr. Griffin lectured, and Josh whined.

"It's okay to fuck her but don't bring her around anymore," his father said.

Is he talking about me?

"Ms. Carrington, anyone ever tell you it's impolite to eavesdrop?"

My body stiffened when I heard another familiar voice behind me.

He snaked his sleazy arms around my waist and pressed himself into me.

"Don't worry, I won't tell," Brian whispered in my ear and then kissed my shoulder.

A whimper escaped from my lips.

"Shhhh, it's me. Brian."

Did he think I would find some comfort in knowing that?

I tried to push away from him, but my ass just pressed against the front of his pants, and he groaned from the pressure. He tightened his grip and pulled me closer.

"Let me go." The smell of bourbon and cigars wafted from his pores. He buried his face in my hair, and my stomach rolled.

"You look so fucking hot in that dress." He slurred his words. I tried to get away from him, but had nowhere to go.

"Brian, please let me go." I placed my hands on the wall.

With his lips on the back of my neck and his pelvis grinding into my ass, "I can't wait to fuck you,” he whispered.

I whimpered and prepared to scream, but someone entered the hallway.

"Brian?"

Brian dropped his head and whispered, "Shit." 

Amanda stood at the end of the hall. I tried to hold in the tears, but a couple dropped and rolled down my cheek.

"Carrington. Sweetie, I haven't seen you all night." Brian stepped away from me with his head down, and Amanda came over and grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall away from her husband.

As we walked down the hall, she opened a door, and we found ourselves out back between the main house and Josh's room.

"Carrington, I think it's best if you just wait for Josh in his room."

She turned back around and headed back to the party.

"Amanda."

She turned back around with an unexpected amount of grace. I wanted to confront her. Ask her why she put up with that. Her husband was a pig, and no one cared, but when she turned around, I saw tears in her eyes. My voice caught in my throat, and I bit my lip. She made a choice to put up with his bullshit, and she had her reasons. She understood exactly what her husband was capable of, but she loved him anyway.

Thank God, I’m not like her.

She was a Griffin and had accepted her family legacy, along with its dysfunction, a long time ago. How could a beautiful, intelligent woman lose her way? I had no clue, but decided not to add to her pain by making a big deal about what happened with Brian.

"Thank you,” I said.

She nodded and turned back toward the main house.

I returned to Josh’s room, grabbed my stuff and took the long trek around to the front of the house to find a ride out of here.

Who knew getting a taxi to the airport in central Florida required a signature from the governor; who had attended the party, by the way.

The valet driver called several companies, but they weren't willing to come out this far. He began to dial another company, when Josh pulled up in his Porsche and said, "Get in."

He suggested it with a tense jaw and wide eyes.

I hesitated when the valet attendant grabbed my arm.

"I'll be fine," I said and smiled to assure him.

I squeezed my bags and myself into the front seat. Josh turned back to the street in front of him, and we took off.

I squeezed the door handle and chewed on the inside of my cheek and kept my mouth shut. He had no clue about Brian or any idea of what I overheard between him and his dad. Maybe he was running away, too, but he seemed angry with me.

My leg started to cramp under the weight of my bag sitting on my lap. In this position, it pushed on my bladder, and I needed to go to the bathroom.

When we hit the highway, Josh’s foot never lifted from the gas, and we drove at a steady eighty miles per hour. I dared to peek over in his direction, and his face softened a bit. At least his eyes were scanning the road to make sure he didn't kill us—that was a good sign.

I grunted as I adjusted in my seat, and he looked over, but stayed silent. We drove forty-five minutes, and I needed to say something soon. I wasn't going to make it back to Tallahassee. As we approached the exit to Interstate-Twenty, instead of heading north, we continued east toward the Atlantic Ocean. Twenty minutes later, we approached a gated community. When Josh opened the window to punch a code into the keypad, I heard the ocean. Trees lined the streets and made it difficult to see beyond the road in front of us, but at the end we pulled up in front of a ten-story white washed condo.

A young man in a white uniform came running out from a room to the side of the driveway.

"Hi, Josh. How are you? We didn't know you were coming."

"Hi, Mike. I know. I'm supposed to give you guys a heads up, but I'm just staying for the night."