by Hart, Taylor
“You tell me that a lot,” she said, a faint smile lifting her lips.
“And I’ll keep telling you that until you believe me.”
Mandy tightened her hold on him, her body’s curves pressing against him.
“You’re used to being the boss, aren’t you?” she whispered.
Her voice shivered through him. “Oldest child syndrome, I guess,” he said in a low tone. They were so close now that it would only be a matter of leaning down a couple of inches to kiss her. So he did. He kept it brief in case she really didn’t like PDA.
“You’re playing your part very well,” Mandy said when he lifted his head.
“I told you I’m not playing.”
Mandy stared at him for a moment. “Then maybe we should get out of here.”
Jeremy smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.” He led her off the dance floor, winding around the couples. On their way out of the ballroom, several people tried to stop Mandy and talk to her, telling her she was going to miss the program, but she made excuses and kept walking.
The cool spring night was a welcome reprieve as they exited the hotel. They walked hand in hand, not speaking, as they headed for the far parking lot. Once they reached the final row of cars, which led to his, Jeremy noticed Mandy shiver.
He slipped off his tuxedo jacket and set it over her shoulders.
“Mmm,” she murmured, pulling it closed. “It smells like you.”
He stopped right there. Drew her against him and kissed her. This was not their first kiss of new exploration, or the brief kiss of the dance floor, but one of building passion. Jeremy had to force himself to break it off.
“Sorry.” He released her and scrubbed a hand through his hair.
Mandy was equally breathless. “I guess you aren’t playing, Jeremy Lode. Now what happens?”
Jeremy shook his head and smiled. He loved her frankness, and he wondered if he’d ever get fully used to it. He grasped both of her hands and settled for kissing each one. “I’m taking you to eat someplace very expensive, where you can order anything you want. Then I suppose I’ll have to take you back to your apartment, so that we don’t get your roommate worried.”
Mandy quirked a brow. “You know Daisy is our number-one fan, right?”
He chuckled. “I got that message.”
“So . . . who won the bet?” Mandy said.
“Let’s call it a tie.” He led her to the car. “But I’ll pay for dinner. Okay?”
“I get the feeling you’re going to do that a lot, so I might as well stop protesting.”
Jeremy unlocked and opened the passenger door for her. “You’re a wise woman.”
She paused next to him before climbing into the car. “Thank you for coming tonight, Jeremy,” she said in a soft voice. “You were truly my knight in shining armor.”
His throat felt thick. He didn’t know which fates had conspired to bring this woman, quite literally, walking into his life. But he could only be grateful.
And now he didn’t have to resist kissing her. So he didn’t resist. One more time for the road.
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Heather B. Moore is a four-time USA Today bestselling author. She writes historical thrillers under the pen name H.B. Moore; her latest thrillers include The Killing Curse and Breaking Jess. Under the name Heather B. Moore, she writes romance and women’s fiction. Her newest releases include the historical romances Love is Come and Wedding Wagers. She’s also one of the coauthors of the USA Today bestselling series: A Timeless Romance Anthology. Heather writes speculative fiction under the pen name Jane Redd; releases include the Solstice series and Mistress Grim. Heather is represented by Dystel, Goderich & Bourret.
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His date a potential no-show, Chad Chamberlain unbuttoned his tux and sat next to the guys. The front room of his upper west side home had been transformed into small seating arrangements, tables for drinks, and comfortable hosting for all his parents’ associates. Friends would have been a lose interpretation. These people were more networking power brokers than anything.
His oldest and best friend, Gunner, the guy who usually lived for these kinds of high-powered events, downed another drink in one gulp. “Dude, how long until we can leave?”
“They want me to meet Brilee Townsend, and then we’ll see.”
He groaned. “We’ll see what? If we can leave? Or if she’s coming with us?”
Chad rotated his shoulders, not any happier than Gunner about the situation. “Both. If she can hang with the guys, I’ll invite her to come along, if not, I might have to liiiinger.” He let the word roll off his tongue slowly, making it sound as distasteful as he suspected it would be.
“Is this like an arranged girlfriend or what?” His other friend, Travis, folded his napkin into what might have been a paper airplane. “If my parents tried this kind of stunt, I’d be out of here so fast…”
“Oh, back off, Travis. You know how it is.” Gunner frowned and flipped hair out of his eyes. They were all kept on tight leashes by their wealthy parents threatening to cut their allowances. Gunner raised his hand for the caterers to refill his water. “I’m driving tonight.”
“What? No way. That’s your first water.” Chad pulled out his phone. “If we don’t want the parents to know where we are, we can call an Uber.”
If they used the limo, their parents could track them. Most parents stopped worrying about that kind of thing once their kids were in their twenties, but when the reputation of their corporations, the feeling among stock holders, their success and livelihood rested on a responsible image and good press, parents kept closer tabs.
He had a successful relationship with his parents. They loved each other, and he respected them, for the most part. They worked together socially, and Chad understood how important networking and relationships were to the success of his business.
He wasn’t surprised at all that they wanted him to meet their friend’s daughter. His father had been talking for many months about a merger with Mr. Townsend. The details were almost smoothed out. What better way to seal the deal than a cozy relationship between their children? Chad was willing to meet her. Maybe she’d be a babe, and they would connect right away. Maybe not. But his guess was she’d be just as resistant to a forced set up as he was.
But the hour grew later, and their social event more boring, and everyone was losing patience. Chad and the guys, his parents, and even the Townsends all gave off signals they were ready to call it a night.
Brilee’s parents spoke together in the corner. The stiff way they carried themselves, the masque on each face, the subtle tension in their jawlines. He’d seen the look before. This was the typical I’m about to lose it stance, and Chad guessed Brilee had bailed on the whole evening.
He stood. “I think that just about does it.”
“What? Can we go?” Travis’s hopeful face made Chad laugh again.
“I think we can go.”
Chad’s parents approached. His mom stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheeks. “Thanks for being here, honey. I just don’t know about some people.”
His father leaned closer and muttered through a closed-mouth smile, “Here they come. I still want this to work.”
Mr. Townsend cleared his throat at he approached. “I apologize. We thought for sure she’d come.”
Mrs. Townsend nodded and reached for a tissue. “I’d hoped she would. It’s been a week already, and we’ve heard nothing.”
Chad’s ears perked up. “Is she missing?” Now here was something interesting. Surely she wasn’t in any danger. No one was panicking.
“Not really missing, no.”
Mr. Townsend placed a hand around his wife’s back. “She took a break, a vacation, and we haven’t heard from her since she left.”
“She planned to go off the grid, they say. Left her cell phone at home.”
Chad leaned forward, waiting for Brilee’s mother to say more. “Sounds like a refreshing break.”
Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Well, I think it completely irresponsible to take off without your cell phone. How can we reach her?”
Chad held back from responding that that was surely her intent—to not be reached. He had to hand it to her. Well played, Brilee.
He looked from one person to another in this group of parents. “Well, since the purpose of our dinner party has not arrived, I think I’ll head out and perhaps see you next time?” He pasted on his most charming smile, shook hands with Mr. Townsend, allowed Mrs. Townsend to kiss his cheek, hugged his parents, and then scooted out of there as fast as he and his friends could respectfully walk.
Their Uber arrived within minutes and they took off to catch the rest of the Red Sox game in Chad’s box seats. The game was close. The Yanks were losing. But Chad was distracted. Brilee. It took guts to not show. He hadn’t had the same guts. He’d been there, had dragged the guys there, at his parents’ bidding—but not Brilee. She’d gone off the grid, in the face of parental disapproval. No cellphone even. He grinned to himself.
“What are you grinning about?” Travis chugged another beer from the open bar.
“He’s just sitting back and enjoying his near-miss tonight. Free again!” Gunner slugged him in the arm.
“You have to hand it to this girl though, right? That took guts.”
Travis shrugged. “I guess.”
“So, when we going to Tahoe?” Gunner pulled out his phone. “If we go soon, I can skip out on all the board meetings this month.”
“Gunner has mastered skipping out.” Chad laughed, wishing he had the same ability. “My schedule is free, for now. Let’s go hike the rim.”
Travis held his fist out. “I’ll bring the gear. We still haven’t climbed that face.”
Chad’s adrenaline kicked in just thinking about it. “Yes! Maybe we can make it through the pass. They’re expecting snow.”
“You know it. Okay, what day are we going?”
They worked it out; Chad would head up early to grab their campsite along the rim, and the others would follow two days later. “We’ll use the chalet off Heavenly Valley Ski Resort and take a couple days there too.”
“You know it. It’s time to shred.” Travis stood. “I’m gonna head. I have to finish a couple things if we’re gonna peace out for the rest of the month.”
They bumped fists, but Gunner stayed back. “So, this Brilee.”
Chad shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t care about her until she skipped out. Maybe she’s cool.”
“You could find out.”
“When she comes back on the grid, I guess.” He called for his ride. “Maybe she’ll show up next time.”
The girl who dared.
That’s what she wanted to be known as. The grocery store checkout magazines glared at her with evidence she was a far cry from anything so heroic or poetic. Her picture on the covers stared back at her. “Senator Hall’s Intern Staffer Quits.” Image after image of her face, her mouth, wide open and smiling. “Millennial billionaire disowned.” Everywhere she looked, her happy and trusting face smiled back. She adjusted her baseball cap and pushed the sunglasses further up the bridge of her nose.
The lady behind her reached for a copy. “Can you believe this?” She held it up for Brilee to see. “Quits. Family disowns her. This, this is just plain wrong.”
Brilee nodded and tried to turn away.
“Look at her. She’s a baby. She can’t be much older than you.”
Brilee laughed nervously.
“What’s she gonna do with her life now? Everyone forever’s gonna talk about Brilee Townsend as the girl who stepped away from billions.” She clucked her tongue, turning pages. “Look at this. It says she’s twenty.” The woman eyed Brilee until she felt nervous she’d be recognized. “How old are you?”
She choked. “Twenty.”
“Yeah, see, just about the same age. This poor thing went up there, all starry-eyed, to work on the Hill, hoping to make a difference in the world. And then—”
“And then what?” The lady two back in the line joined in, and Brilee groaned quietly to herself. The checkout girl must have heard because she winked at her and tried to move faster.
The woman further back in line frowned. “What do you think this Senator did? Force himself on her?” She shook her head. “No, that’s not what Brilee’s claiming. She just up and left. Maybe she didn’t like what was going on. Maybe they didn’t listen to her ideas. Sounds kind of spoiled to me. Why are we blaming him?”
“No one’s blaming him. You weren’t listening to what I was saying.”
Brilee faced the front, breathing in raspy, sporadic spurts. She clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut and counted as she tried to measure her breaths. As soon as a bag was filled, she snatched it and placed it in the cart.
“I just can’t imagine what her parents were thinking, sending her to the thick of Capitol Hill as a young woman.” She turned the pages. “And then to disown her. Why they gotta do that?”
Brilee swallowed. The checker still moved too slow. And, of course, the bar codes weren’t reading. When she passed the butter across the reader for the fourth time, Brilee barely kept herself from shouting, “Just type in the numbers!” Instead, she counted in her mind.
“I heard she’s living by herself now. Gotta make her way in the world like the rest of us.”
The woman behind her stopped talking. She was engrossed in the article, one of the many detailed accounts of the most mortifying and hurtful experience of Brilee’s life.
She piled her bags into the carriage basket of her bike. She had to tip it towards her so that she could hop on. As she biked home, exhaust fumes from the cars filled her lungs instead of the crisp smell of pine she remembered from her childhood.
Her family had been vacationing in Lake Tahoe, California, for longer than she could remember. Her great grandpa had settled part of the area, and they owned a huge piece of property by the lake and another chalet up by the ski resort. But Brilee would not be staying in either. They weren’t open for her use, even though she could probably convince the staff to let her hide out there. Her parents didn’t really know where she was, just that she’d taken the small camper she’d insisted on buying last year, hitched it to one of the gardener’s trucks and headed west.
Her bike skid a bit on an icy patch of late snowfall. Skiers were everywhere, families come for the famous Tahoe spring skiing. She thought about getting a job as a ski instructor when her small stash of cash ran out. But for now, she was enjoying living as simply as she could and writing her story.
She biked up the last hill. This time she was going to make it to the top without having to get off her bike. It was three miles into town, where the stores were, from her spot on the national forest park land. She pumped hard, determined as she gritted her teeth. A car drove by, too close on the winding road, and sprayed slush all over her legs. It was a tan jeep. Roll bars. No doors. Music blaring through the forest. Typical.
Choking on the car’s fumes, she squeezed the handlebars tighter and pushed through. She’d be happy when the spring skiers left and the mountain was quiet once again. She shook the remains of the dirty slush from her jeans while she rode and frowned. She would need to do laundry sometime soon. Why did that idiot jeep have to drive so close? There was plenty of road. And she had been the one closer to the guardrail and the thousand-foot drop-off.
At last, she stepped off her bike with trembling legs. She’d get used to the extra exertion. It was good for her. As was no cell phone. Limited Wi-Fi. And a simpler life. Every morning she meditated and focused on more ways to relieve the stressors in her life.
>
The negativity. The toxins. She worked to let them go, starting with all memories of Senator Hall and her time on the Hill. Those ladies at the checkout further validated her need to hide away for a while. Couldn’t everyone find something more important to focus on, like their own lives?
She grinned, but not too soon. First, she had to finish her book, then they could focus on her point of view.
Bear met her as soon as she opened up the camper door. He licked her hand and wagged his tail with so much energy the egg-shaped camper rocked with the motion. He was huge. Almost too big for her small living quarters, but she couldn’t leave him at home. Her parents had never appreciated the wolf she’d adopted. He wasn’t really a wolf, but to her mother, a husky was almost the same thing. She put away her groceries and smiled; she wouldn’t have to go back down the hill for at least a week. Breathing deeply, she grabbed her laptop and climbed into her ENO hammock, which was tied between two trees next to the camper.
What a life. The pine smell filled her with happy memories, and her seat in the hammock offered the best view she had ever seen. The blue of Lake Tahoe spread out before her, with only the tops of a pine tree or two to add to the splendor. The mountain dropped off five feet past her camper. Bear sat just below her, head down but ears perked. Now, to get in some words while she still had daylight.
She opened her screen and rested her fingers on the keys. “My time with Senator Hall was enlightening in more ways than one.”
She was deep into her thoughts, typing away scene after scene of her life on the Hill as a billionaire’s daughter. She’d realized that being happy wasn’t about how much you had, but maybe, ironically, happiness could be measured by how little you owned. What a concept! She kept going, her teeth gently pressing into her bottom lip, the world around her silent and invisible except for the words appearing across the page almost as quickly as she thought them.
Until music blared through her campground from somewhere down around the bend in the road. Then the loud revving of an engine jarred her out of her thoughts, and the rough gravelly sound of tires spinning through rocks and then spraying to a stop. Oh no. The spot next to hers was now taken. So far, she’d been the only camper on this side of the mountain. Most preferred easier access to the ski slope at this time of year, she supposed.
