Pulled Within (30 page)

“Then let’s get you in a dressing room,” he said.

I followed him to the back of the store and over to one of the registers.
He stopped along the way to pick up a long-sleeved cardigan that would match any of the dresses.

“Can you please get her a dressing room?” he asked the woman who
stood behind the register.

“Follow me,” she said, taking the dresses from him. She walked past the
entrance of the dressing room and over to a side door. “This is our family dressing room…” She placed the dresses inside. “…and this is the waiting
area.”

He nodded and took a seat in one of the chairs. “You can do a little
fashion show for me, Rae,” he said.

 I didn’t think he cared which dress I bought, as long as I was wearing a sweater. But if he wanted to watch me twirl in anything but pink, I guess that was okay.

I shut the door behind me, undid the button on my shorts and lifted the
tank over my head, wiggling out of both as they dropped to the floor.
Unzipping the back of the red dress, I stepped into it, shimming it up my stomach and placing my arms through the holes.

I hadn’t been in there for more than three minutes when I heard him call out, “Rae, let’s hurry this up. I’m worried about your brother.”

Darren was at the arcade. Really, there was no need to be worried about
him. The only trouble he’d find there would be if he ran out of quarters or
threw a fit if he didn’t beat his top score. But whatever…I really didn’t have to try on any of the others. The red dress was my favorite anyway.

I walked out of the dressing room and stood in front of him. “You like this one?”

His hand dropped from his mouth. He’d been biting the skin around one of his nails. I did the same thing when I was nervous, like before I took a
test I hadn’t studied for. “Turn around.”

“I didn’t zip it.” I twirled. “Wanna do it for me real quick so I can
make sure it fits?”

His hands pressed on my bare back. I could feel the wetness from where he’d been biting as his fingers moved to the zipper. When the dress was
fastened, I walked over to the full-length mirror. It fit perfectly.

I usually didn’t wear red; my skin was too pale for that color. But this shade looked really good. It matched the little circles on my cheeks. It was so hot in this store.

“Put on the sweater,” he said.

To quiet him down, I went back inside the dressing room and yanked the sweater over my shoulders. “Better?”

He nodded.

I took it off again and turned around. “Unzip me, please?” When I felt the dress loosen in the back, I shut the door behind me. Then I put on my
own clothes. “So it’s cool if I get this one?” I called over the door.

“If that’s what you want, sweet girl.”

I exited the dressing room and stood beside his chair as I waited for him
to get to his feet. He slowly pushed himself up using the arms. His hand was suddenly on my cheek, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of my hair. “You’re such a good girl, you know that?” He paused to take a raspy
breath. “Rae, my sweet, sweet, Rae.”

***

“Rae…Rae?” Hart squeezed my arm to get my attention. “Rae, are you okay?”

I squinted from the brightness of the lamp that glowed directly
in my face and slung my arm over my forehead to block out the
light. “I’m okay.”

“You had another one of those dreams, baby. You were
screaming.”

I didn’t even remember getting into bed. The last thing I recalled was cleaning up outside to hide the evidence of my smoking and cuddling up on the couch with a mug of tea. He must have carried me in here when he’d gotten home.

I didn’t want him to see my tears. I had no strength to explain them, so I rolled over and turned my back to him. “I was watching something scary before I fell asleep. It must have worked its way
into my dream.”

I instantly regretted lying to him.

“Do you want me to get you anything? Some water or
—
”

“No, I’m good. Thanks.” I pulled the blanket up to my neck and tucked my head between the pillows.

As much as he wanted to help me, he couldn’t. Not knowing
where he’d been tonight didn’t help things. I wondered what time he’d gotten back, and what time it was now. I was almost afraid to ask.

“Rae, are you sure I can’t
—
”

“I just want to go back to sleep, Hart. I’m really tired.”

Several seconds of silence passed before he finally turned off the light and moved closer. “I’m here if you need me.” He didn’t touch me, but I could feel the heat from his body. It wasn’t enough to put me to sleep, though he had no trouble passing out. I heard his breathing change,
and the rhythm of his chest grew slow and steady. I even heard him
dream.

There was no chance of my eyes closing again tonight.

I DIDN’T KNOW
why there was so much light around me. It was never this bright when I got up for work. It was usually pitch black until I turned on the hallway light and tiptoed into the kitchen to make my first cup of coffee. I’d sip the hot brew, and the sun would
begin to
peek over the water, the soft rays spilling through the window and
washing over the counters.

Not this time.

I reached blindly for my cell on the nightstand and held it above
my face. My eyes slowly opened to find 9:48 on the screen. It was
almost ten in the morning?

“Shit!”

I sat up as fast as I could, threw the blanket off and swung my feet to the floor. Then I saw the note on the nightstand, next to the space where my phone had been. Hart’s penmanship covered the
paper.

You hardly slept last night. I want you to take your time coming into work.

I left you breakfast in the fridge.

Don’t rush…I mean it.

I set the note back on the nightstand and stretched my legs into the air, pushing back on my hands to hold my weight. I didn’t know how I’d slept through his alarm, or the sound of the water running while
he’d taken a shower, or him moving through the room while he’d gotten dressed. It hadn’t been easy falling back to sleep. I was
surprised it had even happened. But I was glad it had lasted as long as it did.

Slipping into the guest room closet, I grabbed a sweater to put over my white cotton tank and shorts and went into the kitchen to
brew a cup of coffee. The liquid dripped steadily into the cup as I checked the fridge to see what he’d made for breakfast. I found a burrito with
eggs, cheese, onions and bacon rolled up tightly inside. I didn’t bother heating it up; I just grabbed it and took a bite. Even cold, it
tasted good.
Hart could cook better than anyone I knew—even better than my
mom when she’d actually taken the time to fix us a proper meal.

I finished and wiped off the counter with a cloth, brushing the crumbs into the sink. That was when I heard the back door open. I
wondered what had brought Hart home so early. “I’m fine,” I said, finally looking over my shoulder. “I told you I—” I dropped the cloth and nervously clutched the edges of my sweater, crossing them over my braless chest. “Mrs. Booker…I wasn’t expecting you.” Why hadn’t Hart warned me that she was coming over? He had told me they were in Vermont.

He really had lied to me.

“Don’t stop cleaning on my account,” she said. Her tone was cold and clipped. Her long dark hair was curled and set, and it
didn’t move
at all when she walked. Her breasts didn’t either. She opened her
jacket and rested her hands on her hips. “It’s what we pay you to do after all, isn’t it?”

My eyes widened. I tried desperately to control the sarcasm that threatened to erupt from me. “Not exactly. You pay me to do administrative work, though I do tend to keep things pretty clean.”

“Wait a minute…” She pointed her finger at me, long and thin, with perfectly manicured nails. “You were at the spa the other day,
weren’t you? You were standing outside the office trailer.” She appeared to be thinking, but her forehead didn’t move.

My forehead must have been moving all over the place because I was thinking, too. I was sure I’d have remembered seeing her there.

“Yes, it was you,” she decided. “I didn’t realize Hart had hired the
maid to be his assistant, too.” Her eyes moved to my legs and slid
slowly
back up to my face. “He’s undoubtedly given you quite the
promotion, Maria. With the salary increase, I’d hope you’d be able to buy some clothing that covers a little more than these do.”

What the hell was she talking about?

I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves. She was Hart’s mom, I reminded myself. She’d never been this windy when I’d
known
her before, not so long ago. It seemed that her face and breasts
weren’t the only things about her that had changed. “My name isn’t Maria.”

She shrugged. “Maria, Mary, close enough.”

“It isn’t Mary, either.”

“Look
sweetie
, I have many houses, all over the country. You’ll
forgive me if I can’t keep all the names of my maids straight.”

She thought I was Hart’s housekeeper, Marlene
—
not Maria
or
Mary—and that he had promoted me to be his assistant in addition to being his maid?

That didn’t make any sense.

“I’m not
your
maid, and I’m not
Hart’s
maid, either,” I said, my
tone as sharp as my words. “I live here…
with your son
.”

“You
what?
” She spun to face the back of the house where Hart’s bedroom was located. “That’s impossible. Hart? Hart, honey? Come
explain to me who this
woman
is…” Her voice trailed off as she wove around the couches and end tables, toward the hallway and
bedrooms. Her walk was more of a march as she returned alone. Her hair didn’t move, no matter what she did.

“He isn’t here,” I told her.

She didn’t even acknowledge my comment. “Why in hell would you be living here with my son?”

Apparently, Hart hadn’t told her anything about me—not that he and I were together again, not that I was working for him at the spa. Nothing. I hadn’t told my mom about us either, so I had no
right to be upset with him for that. But he was only a partner for their business,
which meant, technically, I also worked for his parents. That made
things completely different.

And so fucking messy all of a sudden.

I waited for some recognition to appear in her eyes, for a
memory
of me to spark a light in her somewhere. But the surgeries and
injections had removed all the emotion from her face.

I was glad I only had a scar to deal with.

“You don’t recognize me, do you?” I asked finally.

Her hard gaze ran the length of me again. Her tongue wet her lips—lips that were far too plump to be natural. “Should I?” she asked.

“I would hope so. I’m Rae.” I paused, waiting for a reaction from the sound of my name. It hadn’t been all that long ago. Had I really changed that much? “Rae Ryan. I dated Hart before he left for prep school.”

She gasped. Finally, she knew me. “Oh dear God, child!” Her
hand
covered her nose and mouth, as if she smelled something rancid.
“What on earth happened to your face?”

The question shocked me. No one had ever been this straight forward. Everyone in town knew the story, and the strangers I
waited on may
have let their eyes linger a bit too long, but they weren’t rude
enough to ask me about my scar.

The circular lines in my marred skin burned from the heat of her stare. “I was in an accident.” I refused to say any more.

“Don’t you know there are doctors who can fix scars?” She sucked in her cheeks, and her chin tilted up so her gaze pointed
down at me.
“No need to keep walking around with it ruining your face like
that.”

Screw you
, I thought, as loudly as I could.

Not everyone had her kind of money to just throw at a surgeon. Insurance didn’t cover cosmetic corrections, which was what a procedure like mine would be considered. I had looked into it a long
time ago. The cost was so much more than I’d ever been able to afford.

Her eyes dipped to the plate I had left on the counter.
Sleet.
That was what they reminded me of—cold and gray and miserable, their impact capable of great damage. “So,
Rae
,” she said pointedly, as if she were trying to blend me together with Mary, Maria and Marlene, “you eat his food, and you process his paperwork at the spa, and
you occupy
his home. My son has become quite the philanthropist.” I opened my mouth, but was quickly cut off before I could say a word. “I wondered why he was having me meet him at the jobsite and not
here. I thought there must have been something wrong with the house that he didn’t
want me to see, or that he’d redecorated it in a manner I wouldn’t
approve
of.” Her eyes slipped up my neck and rested on my scar again. “I
suppose,
in a way, he did, though he kept you particularly well-hidden. Until
now.”