Overprotected

by Jennifer Laurens

  “Something that makes me look forty, you mean.”

  “Ashlyn, we have very influential guests…”

  Blah, blah, blah. I’d heard the influential, carefully-selected guests lecture before. Mother wanted to dress me up and show me off—

  again. But she wanted to parade me only if I wore what she deemed classic and elegant without keeping in mind that I was a teenager.

  “I’ll have to remind your father to talk to Colin about security.

  I’m certain Colin can handle things. He’s very adept. He’ll look marvelous in a tuxedo, too, won’t he? I’ll have my contact at Prada order one in for him.”

  “Maybe he owns one,” I suggested, just to ruffle her. I could easily envision Colin in a tuxedo.

  Mother laughed, sipped. “Even if he does, I’m sure it’s a cheap, tacky thing. I couldn’t have that at my party.”

  “You’re such a snob,” I teased, reaching for the Rockstar.

  Mother’s face froze. I couldn’t see past the dark glasses covering her eyes, but I was sure she was glaring. She held the Rockstar in a tight fist. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s true and you love it.” I waved my hand for the Rockstar, which she finally handed to me.

  “It’s in the genes, darling. Be careful where you toss those stones.

  They have a way of landing close to home.”

  Throwing stones reminded me that Daddy had left me the joyful responsibility to tell Mother about what had happened last night. My stomach turned over, anticipating the admittance. But, if I didn’t tell her, she’d hear it from Daddy and that would be far worse.

  “I went to a party last night,” I said, steeling my voice.

  Mother’s head pivoted my direction. “A party? With whom?”

  “Um. This girl at school invited me. Danicka.”

  Mother slipped the Prada glasses down her nose so her eyes could lock mine in that you-did-what way. “I take it your father doesn’t know about this.”

  “He knows.”

  Her right brow arched. “My. I’m surprised he didn’t blow the roof off the townhouse.”

  “He was pretty calm about it.” I stretched the truth in hopes that she was too hungover to care.

  “Was he now?” She slipped the glasses back in place, shielding her eyes. “And we’ll all live happily ever after in Neverland.” Mother let out a snort. “Yet you didn’t ask for permission to go, at least you didn’t ask me for permission.”

  “No, I figured since it was a friend’s party and I’m almost eighteen it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

  Mother laughed.

  “It’s true. Millions of girls go to parties. Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because you’re not like millions of girls. Colin was with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “And he didn’t speak with your father or me about it first? How odd.”

  “Like I said, millions of girls go to parties. I’m sure he figured it wasn’t anything out of the norm.”

  Mother wagged her finger at me like a slow metronome. “Your nose is going to start growing, young lady.”

  “Stop with the ‘young lady’. Okay, maybe Daddy hadn’t had the chance to tell Colin how ridiculous you guys are about my safety.”

  “So you took advantage of that?” Mother asked. “Ashlyn. I’m disappointed in you.”

  “I apologized to Daddy. He got over it. Can you?”

  “I’m still digesting the fact that you went to a party without our permission, do you mind? I feel like I just ate a jar of cheap caviar.”

  “Mother.”

  “Where was this party, anyhow?”

  “Ninety-Nine.”

  Mother laughed and brought her coat tighter around her chest.

  “Oh, I bet that got your father’s jockeys in a bunch. What did he do?

  Take your phone?”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled.

  She nodded. “That was very generous of him. The punishment could have been much worse.”

  The door opened and Colin stepped onto the patio. “Morning, Fiona.” He nodded at me.

  “Colin, darling.” Mother sat upright and fussed with her hair.

  “You’re seeing me very unkempt, I’m afraid.”

  Colin clasped his hands behind his back. He wore jeans and a black sweater. The simple outfit fit him with the perfection Mother had intended. “You look lovely, Fiona,” he said.

  Mother’s cheeks pinked. “That’s very kind of you to say.” I half expected her to extend her hand to him for a royal kiss. “Ashlyn and I have been discussing her adventure last night.”

  Colin and I exchanged glances.

  “Not to worry, dear boy. Is that why you were waiting for us in the entry last night? Hmm?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well.” Mother’s admiring gaze swept him from head to toe.

  “Very admirable. I won’t ask you what Charles had to say on the matter, that I can figure out on my own. Colin, I want to tell you about our traditional Christmas party. We invite about two hundred of our closest friends, so, you’ll need to hire some additional security, but I’ll let Charles discuss that with you. My only question for you is, do you own a tuxedo?”

  “Uh, no, I don’t.”

  Mother stood. She flicked at Colin’s shoulders, her hands slowing to gentle caresses as they swept down his arms. “I’m going to order one for you. It will fit your physique… perfectly.”

  I stole a gulp of Rockstar to choke back an embarrassed laugh.

  Colin shifted. “Okay.”

  “Are you going to be here for Christmas? Or home?” I finally interjected, annoyed Mother assumed he’d be staying.

  Mother’s jubilant expression faltered. “Of course he’ll be here.

  He works for us.” She turned to Colin. “I need you here.”

  A tricky silence spread between us. “I appreciate you thinking of me.” He shot me a glance, then returned his attention to Mother.

  “I—I’m not sure where I’ll be.”

  “What?” Mother nearly shrieked.

  “Mother, people—even employees—go home for Christmas. It’s only fair.” Though thinking about Colin absent from the townhouse left me with a hole inside.

  “Not employees who are integral to our home,” Mother snapped.

  Colin cleared his throat. “I can probably stay, if—”

  “I insist. Charles will too. What would we do with Ashlyn?”

  I wanted to laugh. Heaven forbid they spend some time with me.

  Mother continued, “I realize that Christmas is a family time of year, but Barb will understand. I’ll call her myself.” Snagging the Rockstar, Mother gulped. “Now, I need you take Ashlyn to the Christmas Spectacular tonight. We have tickets—gifts from one of Charles’ clients—but I’ve got too much to do to go. Besides, I’ve seen it a million times.”

  Colin nodded. “Of course.”

  “Wonderful. Ashlyn. No more partying, hmm?”

  I nearly rolled my eyes, but Colin looked over. His lips curved up a little, his eyes narrowed with… what? Warning? Challenge? A zing of wonder trembled through me.

  “Don’t forget our lesson,” Colin said. Mother’s brows cocked from behind her dark glasses. “Self defense lesson. Before the Spectacular,” he clarified with a grin. “Meet me in the music room in ten minutes. Wear something comfortable.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  My palm drenched in sweat, I grabbed hold of the doorknob ready to meet Colin in the music room. Colin. Touching me.

  I cracked open the door, peered in. He stood alone, gazing out the window. After tip-toeing in, I closed the door and pressed my back against it, my heart beating like a hummingbird.

  “What are you going to do to me?” I asked, voice squeaking.

  He turned. His dimples beamed. “Do to you?” He strolled my direction and my nerves jangled. “I’m going to show you how to defend yourself.” He stopped close. His scent swamped me with nervous fluttering. “First, always
be aware of your surroundings.

  Know where exits are. Keep your eyes open for anyone out of the ordinary.”

  “Like, all the time?”

  “When you’re out in public. Anywhere but home.”

  “I’ve never had to do that before.”

  “Well, it’s time to start. You won’t always have a bodyguard looking out for you.”

  Nice dream, but I doubted I’d be independent anytime soon.

  “Yes, you’re right.” I nodded.

  “Along with being aware of your surroundings, you should know some defense basics.” He stepped behind me, his nearness sucking the strength from my muscles. “If you’re grabbed from behind,” his hands latched onto my shoulders, and my knees nearly buckled. Get a hold of yourself. Show some dignity. “You’ve got a couple of options.”

  His body pressed against mine. His arms wrapped around and pinned me. Panicked, I wondered if I’d be able to keep breathing. He was so strong.

  Wait, this feels good.

  My head tilted back. “Okay.” My reply rasped from my throat.

  His warm laugh tickled my neck. “You’re supposed to resist.”

  Resist? I brought my head upright. “Oh, yeah. Okay.”

  “Slam your foot against his instep,” he said.

  I tapped my heel on his foot. He laughed. “Come on, harder.”

  My blood was so warm swarming uncontrollably through my veins. I started to sweat. I lifted my foot and jammed it down.

  “Good,” he said. “Use all of the force you can. Again.”

  I stomped on his instep until he approved. His arms remained in a vice grip around me. “Another way is to head butt.”

  I savored how tight he held me, how close he was. The way his lips moved next to my cheek. “Throw your head back as hard as you can.”

  “But I—”

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said, positioning his body so that my shoulder blades pressed into his chest, my buttocks was flush with his pelvis. “Do it.”

  I sent my head back once. Twice. Three more head thrusts and his arms released me. “Don’t hold back.” He stepped away, scrubbing his jaw.

  Standing alone, I was cold.

  “We’re not done, are we?” I asked.

  “Go for the eyes, Ash.” In a snap he was wrapped around me again, squeezing the air out of my lungs, our faces inches apart.

  “Gouge.”

  “I—I can’t.” His eyes flashed with determination. My gaze dropped to his mouth. Kiss me.

  “If he gets you like this, go for his eyes.” He commanded. I nodded, muscles melting in his embrace. I could never hurt you.

  For a moment he studied me, and his brows creased. I felt the slightest stiffening in his body, the minutest tightening of his arms around me. He released me, and stepped back. A shudder wracked my bones.

  “Those are some basics,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “I don’t know about you,” his gaze slipped to my lips, “but I’m hungry.”

  Yeah. “I’m starved.”

  Hot bread and spices scented the air from delis and restaurants along 57th Street. Even though it was chilly outside, I kept the window in the back of the car down so I could breathe in the aromas of the city.

  Looking at him stole the grumble from my stomach, replacing it with a deep gnaw that had nothing to do with food. “Do you like Indian?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “The Bombay House on Forty-Ninth is pretty good,” Eddy piped, his eyes flicking to us in his rear view mirror. “I’ve taken the wife there. They got good stuff.”

  “Oh yeah?” Colin’s gaze shifted to Eddy.

  Eddy drove us to the tiny hole-in-the wall restaurant, pulled the car over and opened my door. I waited for Colin on the curb. He leaned close to Eddy, whispered something to him, patted his arm and Eddy nodded before he got back in the car and drove off.

  Colin chuckled. “Why are you laughing?” I asked.

  The sparkle in his eyes wasn’t malicious, it was mesmerizing. “It’s just that you don’t have to be Park Avenue when we’re together.”

  “I’m not.” But Park Avenue was the only way I knew how to be.

  He slung an arm around my shoulder and kept it there for a moment as we walked to the restaurant door. My body stiffened, but my knees melted into butter.

  “You can relax around me, okay?” When his arm slipped away, emptiness sunk to my core. I hid the vacancy behind a nod.

  The Bombay House was tucked at the top of a narrow, dark flight of stairs just off 49th Street. A whisper of red and gold paper lanterns lit the dark room, painted with murals of elephants carrying beautiful women and children on their backs. From hidden speakers, a woman’s voice chanted to sitar music. A mix of cinnamon and curry perfumed the musky air.

  We sat at a window table overlooking the street and its hub.

  How ordinary we looked together—if only people knew. But I was glad no one did—including him. This was my first date. It really wasn’t a date, and guilt pinched my conscience categorizing it as one. Daddy had allowed me to go to a dance with one of his law associate’s sons, once. My then-bodyguard had chaperoned, a detail the boy hadn’t planned on and found strange enough that he ended the date early.

  This qualified as a date for two reasons: my parents weren’t along and Colin had planned it—at least the dinner part. I’d picked out my favorite berry blue silk sweater, pewter slacks and Jimmy Choo heels for the occasion; though Colin hadn’t done anything more than skim a glance over me when I’d met him in the entry at home.

  He wasn’t glancing now. His eyes watched me intently. “There’s that smile of yours again.”

  I’d never seen such light in anyone’s eyes—like stars blinking in a midnight sky. Set against his black sweater, his dark hair and white teeth were even more brilliant. “What do you mean?”

  “You looked the same way the other night when you were playing the piano. What do you think about when you play?”

  “Lots of things.”

  “What inspires you?”

  “Stuff.” I cringed at my simple answers. I may look normal but that’s where the similarity ended.

  A woman with honeyed skin approached the table. Pressed in the center of her forehead was a red bindi dot. A colorful sari wrapped around her body. After a welcome, she gave us menus and excused herself.

  “I’ve been here before, I think.” Long ago, when we’d just moved to New York, before life became so protected even meals out were meted.

  “I like the Chicken Tikka Masala,” Colin said. “Ever tried it?”

  It had been too many years for me to remember, but I didn’t admit that, too afraid of what he would think when he finally realized the extremes Daddy went through to keep me safe.

  “I’ll try it.” I closed the menu and set it aside.

  “You sure? You can pick anything you want, you don’t have to take my word for it.”

  I appreciated his efforts to encourage me to expand my horizons, but he had no idea that I had floated on an iceberg in the Antarctic for so long, I was numb to certain things—like choices. He seemed befuddled by my lack of response, and after we ordered, he sat forward, hands clasped on the table, nearly knuckle-to-knuckle with mine.

  “Ashlyn.” His tone told me something heavy was coming. “I have to confess, when Charles first told me about the job, I was… well, I knew he was… serious about your safety. But, how do you deal with his… overprotection?”

  I reached for my water glass, keeping the icy glass between my fingers. My reflection in the window caught my eye. Normal.

  “I love Daddy,” I said. “But, I’ll be honest, his emphasis on my safety is hard to live with.”

  He studied me, his gaze almost intolerably intense. “But he lets you date and stuff, right?”

  I swallowed. If he knew the depths of Daddy’s fixation, he’d split.

  Where I didn’t want a bodyguard, Felicity was right: if I was going to
have to have one, I might as well like him. And I did like Colin.

  “Ash?”