Uncovering You 7: Resurrection (17 page)

It turns out there’s a carport, filled with exotic cars, that I somehow managed to completely overlook. It’s a separate building, not connected to the main house, nestled a few minutes away in a clearing on Jeremy’s property.

There were Porsches and BMWs and Maseratis and even a Lambo. I asked Rose if Jeremy ever drives them himself. She shook her head, and said, ‘Not for years.”

Apparently, he’s more of a collector than anything else.

All the expensive cars intimidated me. I didn’t want to somehow screw one of them up by driving it improperly. So I chose the simplest I could find, and also the smallest: a Porsche 911 Carrera.

Still, it took me a few minutes to come to grips with the fact that
I
was about drive a Porsche. Growing up, as a little girl, I didn’t exactly have a fascination with cars. But hanging around boys more than girls definitely made me appreciate automobiles more.

I start the engine. It purrs to life. I get goosebumps from the soft vibration. I suppress a giggle, too, then take my foot off the brake, and roll forward through the open garage doors.

I take it slow at first, winding my way over the path leading to the gates. The car controls like a dream. The Toyota I drove in Maine is nothing compared to this. In comparison, the Toyota felt like I had to struggle just to get it to turn. The Porsche seems like it can read my mind, and knows where I want to go before I even steer it.

I drive through the gates and put my sunglasses on. Not because it’s all that bright, but because I didn’t want pictures of me smeared all over the magazines.

Not that I intend on getting out. I just want to experience the freedom of being able to drive around. However, after the Greek restaurant episode, I know that I can’t be too careful.

I take it slow on the residential streets around Jeremy’s mansion. I just want to explore the area. It’s astounding to think that I’ve been living here for so long and still have no sense of the surroundings.

I don’t see many houses. I do see lots of expansive estates. Much like Jeremy’s place. The residences are hidden somewhere deep on the properties.

The streets are all quiet and empty. Maybe that’s to be expected in an area like this during the day. I doubt there’s paparazzi watching me. So I roll down the window to feel the wind. I can taste the salty tang of the sea. Mixed with the pure, clean, easy-to-breathe air that comes from the evergreens, it swirls around me and fills my lungs. I breathe it in deeply.

I turn onto a side street. Some ways down, I spot a woman walking two golden retrievers. She’s wearing a tight-fitting black and pink tracksuit that clings to her body like a second skin. Her long blonde hair is tied back in a ponytail. She looks around my age.

Just as I’m about to pass, she stops and waves at me.

I gawk for a second, spooked, and instantly start to roll up the window. I catch myself halfway through the motion and stop. What on earth am I afraid of?

“Hey!” she calls out as I pass. “Hey, we’re neighbors, right?”

I stop the car beside her on the road. “Yeah,” I say. “I guess we are. How’d you know?”

“The license plate.” She offers a wry smile. “That’s Jeremy Stonehart’s car, isn’t it?”

“You know him?”

“Oh, we’ve met in the past. Once or twice.” She winks.

My defenses instantly go on high alert. “What do you mean, you’ve ‘met’?” I ask, feeling an unexpected surge of jealousy consume me.

She laughs. “I’m just teasing, babe. I recognize you from the magazines. And I know the Stonehart residence is around here somewhere. Don’t worry. That man’s all yours.”

“I’m not worried,” I say, trying to protect my pride.

She cocks her head to one side. “You sure look worried to me. Anyway, forget it.” She sticks her hand out. “I’m Tracy.”

I hesitate for a split second, then reach out through the window. “Lilly,” I say.

“I know,” she giggles. “But it’s nice to meet you properly. You’ve driven past me a few times this last week—or was it the week before? Anyway, I always see you in the back of that limo.”

“Really?” I ask. “I’m surprised that you could see through the tinted glass.”

“I’ve got killer vision,” she shrugs. Then she taps the shades over her eyes. “And polarized sunglasses don’t hurt.”

One of the dogs barks at something in the trees and surges forward, jerking Tracy his way before she gets him under control.

“Anyway,” she says, “these two are getting restless. I’d better go. It was nice to meet you, Lilly. Hope to see you around.”

“Bye,” I say after her back.

Lose one friend, gain two more?

***

Jeremy arrives in the evening.

“I heard you went on a little ride today,” he tells me after I greet him with a kiss. He smiles. “I’m glad you’re taking advantage of the luxuries available to you.”

“It was so much fun!” I gush. After saying good-bye to Tracy, I took the Porsche to the freeway. Zipping around other cars and feeling the power of the engine was a thrill unlike any I’d experienced yet. “I think I could get used to it.”

“Where’d you go?” Jeremy asks, then listens to me rattle on and on while he changes out of his suit into something more casual.

We sit down for dinner, which Charles serves himself. He sees the good mood Jeremy and I are in. From behind Jeremy’s back, he offers me a wide, gracious smile, followed by a wink. I nod at him and smile back.

“Lilly,” Jeremy says, after we’ve retired to an adjacent living room, wine glasses in hand, “I have to be in Boston tomorrow. I’ll stay the weekend. I know that’s where you grew up. I’d like for you to join me. But my schedule will be completely full. We won’t have time for each other. Still, I’d like to ask: Do you want to come?”

“When will you be back?”

“Late Sunday night.”

I consider the offer. While it might prove interesting to visit the place I was born, two more six-hour flights in the span of a few days don’t exactly appeal to me.

“And it’s all business for you?” I ask.

“That’s right,” he says. “I mean…” he looks over the rim of his glass at me, that seductive glimmer in his eye, “I might be able to make time for you, here and there…especially if you look as stunning as you do now…but, yes,” he hedges. “You’d be mostly on your own. Here or there. Your choice.”

“Then I’d prefer to just wait,” I tell him. “You know how good it is after we’ve had some time apart.”

“Yes,” Jeremy coughs. “But I’m not gone yet.”

And with that, he puts his glass down, tugs me into him, and kisses me—hard.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The next morning, I wake up to find Jeremy already gone. It seems like it’s becoming a habit with him.

I stretch out leisurely, basking in the memory of last night. Jeremy was sweet and tender. He cared for me in every way. He made me truly feel exotic.

Shit, but I forgot to ask him about the things I’d intended to. Well, I didn’t really
forget
. I just didn’t want to spoil what we had by bringing them up.

But when he gets back on Sunday night, it’ll be time for me to demand answers. Once and for all.

I get out of bed and wander downstairs. After a full week off work, I feel peculiarly useless.

But wasn’t the point of you working just to get closer to Jeremy Stonehart?
a small voice reminds me.
Isn’t that what you managed to do since getting back from Maine
?

I guess that’s right. I had a fearful few days where I thought I’d blundered badly with Jeremy. Now, at least, I am assured that I have not.

That’s more important to me than any position at Stonehart Industries. I haven’t forgotten the promise I made to get back at Jeremy. But, as expected, that process will take time. Lots and lots of time.

Time that I have? Most definitely. There is no pressure to get anything done sooner rather than later. In fact, I’m quite comfortable where I currently stand.

But how long will it last?
I wonder.
A year? Two? More?

I don’t know. And I don’t know what comes after. I can’t deny my growing feelings of affection toward Jeremy Stonehart any longer. They’re there. If he continues to act the way he did yesterday, they will prove tricky to overcome.

But I’ll find a way. I always do. The worst is behind me.
That
I’m sure of. And if I’ve survived this long…started to prosper, even…then I have no doubt in my ability to continue to do so in the future.

There’s a light drizzle outside. I feel the itch to get behind the wheel again. I have nothing better to do today. Besides, why not take advantage of my situation and have a little bit of fun?

So I have breakfast, then shower, and change, and go pick up the keys. I debate trying another car—a more
powerful
car—but then decide against it. The Maseratis and Lamborghinis of the world still intimidate me. I’ve got to take it slow, and move my way up in the same way you would training for a marathon. You don’t dive in head-first and run 26.2 miles on your first outing. You build up to it.

That’s the sort of reasoning that finds me back behind the wheel of the Porsche.

But, only minutes later, I’m cruising down the highway at break-neck speed, pushing the edges of my comfort zone further and further.

I hear sirens behind me. My heart leaps to my throat. I panic. Was I going too fast? My breathing ratchets up a few notches. A mixture of dread, guilt, and apprehension wells up inside.

But then I look into the rear-view mirror, and see that it’s just an ambulance in the distance. I breathe a sigh of relief, merge lanes to let it pass, and promise myself to be more careful in the future.

In fact, I’ve had enough of the highway. I haven’t even simply driven around San Jose and explored the city on my own. I know I still can’t get out of the car—not unless I want to risk having my picture taken. But I sure as hell can drive and look.

And even if something catches my eye—and I do decide to step out—is chancing a few more photographs really that bad? How incriminating will they really be? There’s nothing I’m doing that I
shouldn’t
be doing. So it’s not like I’m going to cause a scandal by stepping outside.

It’s just the feeling of surveillance, the constant uncertainty whether I’m being watched or not, that makes me reluctant to leave the car.

I take the exit and follow the signs to the city center. The sun has started to peek out from behind the clouds when I arrive. Breaks in the cover make patches of light dot the street.

I turn left, aiming to find that high-end, quaint, little area that Simon took me to. There’s no point fighting traffic in the core of downtown when all I want to do is explore.

After a few misguided turns, and more than a few moments of feeling utterly lost, I see familiar buildings slowly start to surround me, like the creeping rays of a rising sun. This is the one place I don’t dare get out, after last time. But nobody has to know it’s me behind the wheel of the car.

I drive around, taking it slow, enjoying the lower speed limits. Suddenly, I do a double take. There, across for me, on the other side of the road is…

No, it couldn’t be.

Could it?

In a single rash maneuver, I do a very illegal U-turn, cutting through three lanes of traffic and earning myself a barrage of horn blasts. It doesn’t matter. None of that even registers.

I pull up on the other side and open the passenger window. “Robin?” I yell.

He starts when he hears his name, looking around to see who called him. Then he spots me, and his eyes widen. He rushes over.

“Lilly!” he says.

“Robin, what the hell are you doing here?” I ask. Another horn sounds from behind me. I curse.

“Looking for you,” he says simply.

I shake my head. “What?” another belligerent honk. “Is Fey with you?”

“No. She’s at the hotel.”

“Hey asshole!” An angry male voice screams from some other car “Get a move on, will ya?”

And then another cascade of horns rains down on me.

“Get in,” I tell Robin. “Quickly.”

He nods, opens the door, and slides inside. I drive without doing a shoulder check, nearly collide with another vehicle, curse once more, and then re-enter the flow of traffic.

My hands are trembling. I’m very much on edge. Adrenaline pulses through me with every heartbeat.

“Explain,” I say to him. “
Now
.” I look at him quickly, then back at the road. “What do you mean, you’re looking for me? Why?”

“Fey got your voicemail,” Robin says. “And she’s been trying to reach you ever since. But you haven’t responded to any of her texts, her emails. Every time she tries to call you, you don’t pick up.”

“What?” I say, flabbergasted. “She hasn’t called me once!”

“Not true,” Robin says. “She’s been trying to reach you almost every hour of every day. And as she couldn’t…as more and more time passed from when she last heard from you…she started to get worried.
Really
worried.” Robin looks at me. “You’re in some deep shit, Lilly. I was worried, too.”

I want to laugh hysterically. Thank God the steering wheel beneath my hands gives me something else to focus on.

“Where are you staying?” I ask. “Far from here?”

“Not far,” Robin says.

“Guide me.”

He gives directions. A minute or so later, I pull into the parking lot of an expensive hotel. Shit. The only way they could afford this is if Fey’s parents sprang for the trip. Which means
they
know, and
they
are worried, too.

Shit, shit, shit!

I turn the engine off and look at Robin. “Explain again,” I tell him. “From the start.”

He nods, and begins. It’s the same story as before, though with the benefit of added details. Fey got my message at the start of the week. She’s been trying to contact me ever since. But all her communications have been blocked. As the days passed, she got more and more worried, until, finally, last night, she and Robin booked a trip here for the weekend to try to find me.