But then I realized that I actually was feeling like shit about my quarrel with her. I’d never gone this long without talking to the woman who practically raised me.
“I got a few in mind,” I admitted honestly. “For embarrassing you in front of your circles for one—and the world.”
“Humph.” Jemima pointedly looked away, and Agnes wrung her plump hands nervously.
“And for not listening when you worry about me.” I paused. “And also…for not doing better even after you took me in. When I’m not even your own blood.”
That did the trick. Jemima’s gaze softened, and the tension left her shoulders.
If it’s one thing I knew about my grandmother, she could never stand for it if someone even suggested I wasn’t truly hers.
“Dear boy,” she said in exasperation, reaching out to me. “You may not be my blood, but you are mine.”
I took her hands in mine, only just realizing how much I missed my grandmother’s touch.
“I never meant to hurt you when I left.” I squeezed Jemima’s hand. “I can’t promise I won’t hurt you again, but I’m gonna try my hardest not to.” My lips quirked. “Fighting you sucks,” I admitted.
Jemima raised her thinly penciled brows in an “I told you so” look.
“Then we won’t.” She patted the seat beside her. “Come wait with me. The show will begin soon, and they will open up a seat for you when I tell them to.”
“‘Course they will, who in their right mind would dare say no to you.” I paused. “Gran, I kinda have another reason I’m here,” I said carefully.
“Oh?” Jemima’s light brown eyes narrowed into a squint.
I heard Agnes swallow audibly behind me, but I couldn’t just leave it at that. Lena was counting on this, for fuck’s sake.
“You see, I have a friend who’s in a spot and she needs some help. I was wondering—” I broke off when I noticed Jemima’s already suspicious gaze sharpening in fury.
Yeah, that’s never a good sign.
“You were wondering what, exactly?” she snapped.
I groaned and thrust my hands in my hair. “Gran, just listen to me—”
“So you’re here to ask a favor for another one of your flings?” she said, her voice going even louder and shriller.
“She isn’t a fling—”
Before I could finish, the door behind me busted open.
There stood Lena, looking just as shocked as I was that she’d dared to barge into Jemima’s room without invitation.
Jemima and Agnes stared at her with equally wide eyes, except Jemima was stunned and furious and Agnes looked like she regretted ever agreeing to help me.
Lena finally found her voice. “Ms. James, I’m—”
“Helena Hastings.” Jemima said the name like it left a bitter taste in her mouth. “I know who you are. The tabloid writer who told America all about the naked truth of Gabriel Easton.”
Lena wisely stayed silent as Jemima angled her head and raked her over with her signature once-over. It was a look designed to make you feel like the smallest, most insignificant amoeba, and from the way Lena was shrinking, it was working.
But she must have had balls of steel, because she took a breath and pressed harder. “Can I have five minutes of your time?”
Jemima let out a cold laugh. “Agnes, take care of these two. I’m exhausted.”
“Jacob Kline,” Lena rushed, clutching her little notebook like it was the only thing keeping her steady. “Have you heard of him?”
Jemima stilled at the name, slowly turning to Lena.
“Why do you ask?” she said, her expression a cold, inscrutable mask.
“I think you know why,” Lena said quietly, an unspoken meaning laced in her words. “I’m here to ask you to lend me your voice. That’s the only way he can be stopped.”
Jemima stared at Lena, momentarily stunned into silence.
Then without taking her eyes off Lena, she waved her hand to dismiss Agnes and me.
“I’ll speak to the young lady privately,” she said, and her word was final.
As much as I wanted to stay, I knew there were things they knew that ran deeper than the surface, things that no man could ever understand the way they did.
Now it was Lena’s turn, but even though she was shaking in her shoes, I knew she was gonna see it through.
***
I willed myself not to turn to Gabriel as he left the room with Agnes and carefully shut the door behind him.
It was just me and Jemima now. I shifted awkwardly on my feet as she sat back in her chaise and examined me. Her posture was as elegant and regal as a dowager, with just the right amount of distaste to make me feel small.
My hands tightened painfully around the straps of my satchel, and my mind went blank as I searched for the right words to say.
Usually, this would be the moment I turned and fled, but all I heard was Gabriel’s low, even voice in my head.
Just breathe.
You got this.
You’re the bravest girl I know.
“Please hear me out.” My eyes were growing hot, but I held on. “I have a story, and I have sources.” I withdrew the documents out from my satchel and laid them on the coffee table in front of Jemima. “I have firsthand accounts and proof about Jacob Kline.”
I didn’t even have to say what the proof was about. Jemima had to know; her expression changed the instant she heard Kline’s name earlier. Nearly everyone in the industry knew about him. It was unthinkable that he’d gotten away with so much, for so long.
Jemima picked up my documents, rifling through them with a wary frown. Her face tightened in anger when she came to the recording transcript of my incident with Kline.
“Where did you get this?” she demanded. “Who’s the source?”
I clenched my hands at my waist to keep them from trembling. “It was me.”
Jemima’s eyes widened. “You fool,” she breathed, disbelieving and furious. “You little fool. You put yourself at risk for this?”
I was taken aback by her sudden anger. “I needed something Kline can’t deny—”
“I don’t care what you think you need, gal! Do you know what kind of trouble you could have gotten into!” Her voice rose with every word, and she threw the papers down on the table as if she couldn’t bear to touch it. “What if someone hadn’t come in at that moment? Did you think about that?”
“I—”
“No, you didn’t, because you don’t think!” Jemima yelled. “You could have gotten hurt, and for what? To get revenge on this bastard?”
“It’s not about revenge, it's about stopping him.” I pressed. “I got away from him, but there were others who didn’t. And there’ll be more if we don’t do something about it!”
Jemima was agitated as she puffed on her cigarette. “It’s not as simple as you think it is, young lady. He’s gotten away with this for decades now, not because he’s lucky, but because he knows exactly how to keep his victims quiet.”
“Through fear.”
Jemima nodded once. “Other women have tried to take him down. I’ve tried, but he always finds a way out.”
“Was Gabriel’s mother…that is…”
“Was she a victim?” Jemima exhaled shortly. “No, she got involved with him of her own choice. An unthinkable choice, that much is clear, but at least she gave me Gabriel.” Her piercing gaze made me nervous. “Gabriel told you.”
“That Jacob Kline is his biological father,” I said quietly. “Yes.”
She leaned back into the chaise, her long shell-pink nails tapping thoughtfully on her cigarette. But even with her relaxed demeanor, her calculating eyes never stopped examining me.
“What do you want with Gabriel?” she asked.
“P-pardon?”
“Why are you with him? Do you want money? Fame? Sex? What is it, gal?”
“I…” I fumbled for the right words to her blunt question. “I want to be with him, I suppose. I want
him to be happy.”
“And is he?”
“I think so.” My hands tightened. “Yes, I think he is.”
Jemima’s lips formed a thin smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“He won’t be for long. You’re but a distraction, a pretty novelty. Gabriel has a taste for the finer things as the Eastons do, and he will come to his senses and return to his usual diet of socialites and models.”
Jemima put her cigarette out on her ashtray, taking her time with it. “I’ve seen it happen one too many times in my day. A young woman foolish enough to fall in love with a man born in the spotlight. But you will always be in his shadow.”
I wondered if Jemima was speaking from experience.
“You must be a brave girl, even though you’re trembling in your shoes,” Jemima remarked. “Brave for going up against me, and against a man as influential as Jacob Kline. He has many people on his side, you know, powerful people. Aren’t you afraid?”
“I am,” I said quietly. “I know what will happen if I take this public, and believe me, I am terrified. But it has to be done.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Jemima reached for a silver case in her blazer jacket and withdrew a cigarette from it. She held it between her fingers without lighting it.
“They’ll tear you to pieces, my dear,” she said simply, but her eyes were not unkind. “Your dignity and your morals will be questioned. The blame will be laid at your feet. You tempted him. You put yourself in danger.” Her faded brown eyes looked right through me. “You must have wanted it.”
Breathe. You got this.
“I‘ll be ready.” My fists tightened painfully. “And if I’m not, then I’ll just have to be stronger.”
“For your sake, I hope you are.” Jemima tilted her head, and the bright LED lights from the make-up area behind her reflected off her artificially dark hair. “I’ll take on your story.”
I sagged in relief. “Thank you, so much,” I said sincerely.
“On one condition.”
My breath stuttered. “What is it, ma’am?”
“Return Gabriel to me.” Jemima rolled her unlit cigarette between her index and middle finger, never taking her piercing gaze off me. “It’s clear that he’s enamored with you, but Gabriel belongs with the Eastons. I’ll give you every resource and every ounce of influence I have for your campaign. But only if you let Gabriel go.”
“Alright,” I said.
Jemima was suspicious, narrowing her eyes as she studied my face.
“You will arrive at my office tomorrow at seven in the morning,” she said in a businesslike manner, her husky voice loud in the silence of the room. “I will assemble a team of my best to work with you. I’ll have everyone talking about it; celebrities, politicians, every woman and man on the street. The whole country will be talking about this for years to come.”
I nodded, trying to absorb everything she was saying. Everyone in New York knew that Jemima James was ambitious and obsessive, but above that she was shrewd and cunning and ruthless.
With her power and influence, Jacob Kline and all the men like him would have reason to be very, very afraid.
“Thank you,” I said again, relief stark in my breathless words. “Gabriel was right. He said you wouldn’t stand by and do nothing—”
Jemima scoffed. “Gabriel thinks I’m an ogre. He thinks I’m to blame for the spotlight he was cast into.” She kept rolling the cigarette between her fingers and narrowed her eyes at me.
“You never intended to uphold your end of the deal, did you?” she finally said. “To return Gabriel to me?”
“I can’t,” I said apologetically. “He’s his own person, not anyone’s to give or trade. That’s what he’s been trying to tell you.” I clenched my hands, fully aware that I was talking back to Queen James. “Before he’s an Easton, he’s just Gabriel.”
“Humph.” Jemima narrowed her eyes and studied me. “Do you care for him?”
“I do, ma’am.”
Jemima squinted at me for another long, uncomfortable minute.
Then she exhaled and waved her hand. “You may take your leave.”
I straightened and tried not to look too eager to go. “D-do you want to see Gabriel?”
“Christ, no. I already have my hands full with him, and now I’ve got a Helena Hastings in the mix.”
Jemima gave in and withdrew a lighter for her cigarette. She drew in deeply and exhaled.
“My blood pressure can only take so much,” she muttered.
“I’m sorry,” I said automatically. “And thank you. Again.”
“It will be a long battle, my dear,” Jemima said, looking completely worn out. “Neither you nor Gabriel know just how exhausting it’s going to be.”
I did an awkward half-bow and prepared to go, but a sudden compulsion made me turn and blurt out, “Ms. James, I just want to say that I admire you very much. You were my role model back when I was in college. I majored in Communications,” I finished lamely.
Jemima huffed irritably and waved me off with her cigarette, and I hurriedly spun on my heel in embarrassment.
But I did it. My heart was still slamming against my ribs from the shock and adrenaline. I actually did it.
I was at the door when Jemima spoke again.
“Girl.”
“Y-yes?”
“Don’t ever do something so stupid again.”
A smile broke out on my face.
“Yes, ma’am.”
It was in the afternoon by the time we left Varick Street, but when we got back to my car, Lena turned on the GPS navigator.
“Want to go someplace with me?” she asked shyly.
Her smile was softer now, less strained than it had been in the days leading up to today. Her talk with Jemima had taken a load off her shoulders, which was not what I expected at all. Gran’s effect on people was that she usually left them eviscerated—but Lena was almost cheerful.
I found myself grinning back at her in response, and brushed a flyaway strand of pale hair from her cheek.
“Mouse, I’ll go anywhere with you.”
Lena blushed at my words, and entered the address into my navigation system.
I raised my eyebrows. “Bear Mountain?”
“I used to drive up there when I wanted to be alone.” Lena buckled herself in and shot me a smile that made the air leave my lungs. “And I don’t know why, but I really want you to see it.”
Lena directed me as I drove, leading us out of the city. The clusters of buildings and skyscrapers of Manhattan grew further apart as we headed upstate, until there were no more buildings left and there were only flat plains on either side of the road.
Then came the greenery. I saw birch forests in the distance, and beyond us on the horizon were mountainous outcrops of warm stone. The scent of fresh trees was so strong we could smell it in my car.
Lena drew in a deep breath, then released it softly.
“I forgot how good it smells out here,” she said, a faint smile playing on her lips.
I glanced at her in the seat beside me, loving how relaxed she looked out here. The late afternoon sun shone through her hair and bounced off her skin, making it look like light was coming from within her.
I pushed a button to retract the sunroof and let the wind in. “So which part of Bear Mountain are we going?”
“I’m taking you to a secret spot that no one knows about. I’ve never told anyone about it.”
I grinned. “Sounds like I’m about to be your first again.”
Lena laughed, a light blush stealing across her cheeks.
“Yeah, you are,” she said, a secretive smile curving her lips. “You’re my first in more ways than one.”
God, I loved when she smiled.
“Wanna go faster?”
“Yes!”
I floored the accelerator and the wind rushed through the sunroof, snatching Lena’s hair and tossing it about. Lena laughed and threw her hands up, letting her finger
s slip out of the sunroof and into the open air.
The faraway forests outside rushed by, and the mountains cruised alongside us lazily. And beyond that, the sun inched closer to the tips of the mountains.
“We’re almost there.” Lena pointed out a rocky path ahead, and I veered off the road to head on uphill.
The sound of rushing wind grew quiet as we slowed, and Lena propped her arm on the side window, looking out pensively.
“I found this place in my senior year,” she murmured, looking deep in thought. “It was a school day, and my first time skipping class. A group of girls had been making fun of me. It was over something I can’t even remember now, but at that time it was the worst thing that ever happened to me. And so I hopped on my bicycle and pedaled as hard as I could away from the city.”
She nestled her chin in the crook of her elbow. “I didn’t even know where I was going at that time, but at the end of this road I found the most beautiful place I ever saw.”
I drove for a short distance more until the path ended on the plateau of a small rocky hill.
Lena didn’t say a word as I pulled over, because she didn’t need to. The place spoke for itself.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, staring out at the landscape before us.
The plateau sat atop a basin of forests stretching farther than the eye can see. On either side of the plains leading to the horizon were rocky outlines of mountains that looked like they came right out of a postcard.
All of that was bathed in a golden glow cast by the setting sun as it lingered on the line where the sky met the forest.
“It’s magical, isn’t it?” Lena leaned off the edge of her seat, her hands grasping the dashboard as she gazed out at the sunset with a faint smile.
She didn’t know that the sun was staring back at something just as beautiful.
“You’re pretty magical yourself.” I reached out to touch a lock of her hair that the sunlight had turned a pale gold. “And so damned lovely.”
Lena turned to me. “You don’t have to say that,” she murmured, even though her lips were curved. “I don’t know what to do with compliments.”
Charming (New York Heirs #3) Page 19
