Unravel Me

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Unravel Me Page 9

by Lynn Montagano


  “Looking forward to starting your new job?” Alastair asked her.

  “Yeah. I’m nervous though. I’ve only done some freelance work on the side. This is, you know, the big time.”

  “You’ll do fine. Sarah runs a great company and you’re part of one of the best graphic design teams in the UK.”

  “Do you know what projects you’re going to work on yet, Steph?” I asked.

  “Nope. They mentioned magazine advertisements to start but that could all change once I get there.” She shrugged. “They’ll probably put me on something low key to see if I know what I’m doing.”

  “Maybe not,” Alastair said. “Sarah mentioned they just closed a deal with Summit Enterprises for their new ultra lounge called Pulse. It’s owned by Brent Garrison.” He looked in my direction. “I’m sure you remember meeting him.”

  I did. Brent was around the same age as Alastair and successful in his own right in real estate. There was obvious tension between them thanks to Alastair’s previous relationship with his sister. Brent took it upon himself to enlighten me with some of the details while at the garden party last month. I still didn’t know exactly what happened and really had no interest in delving deeper into my boyfriend’s history of getting laid and discarding women when he ‘got what he wanted.’ But I knew now that side of him was triggered by his decision to avoid any and all emotional attachments. We’d obviously managed to make a breakthrough in that department, but his reputation still preceded him.

  “You’ll most likely be working on that campaign,” Alastair concluded.

  Stephanie’s eye widened. “Really? How do you know?”

  “I know everything, Stephanie,” he smirked.

  She rolled her eyes and elbowed me. “Seriously, with this one?”

  “Welcome to my world,” I laughed.

  “Do you have a place already lined up?” he asked, ignoring both of our comments.

  “I’m staying with Darren for a bit until I get settled into the job and I’m confident they won’t fire me. Then I’ll probably look for my own place.”

  “If you need help, I know a few realtors in the area who can find you something spacious without it costing an outrageous amount of money.”

  Her eyes widened again. “Thanks, Alastair. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  A tiny smile pulled at his mouth as he scanned the growing crowd. I had no idea what he was looking for. He’d been a little on edge all morning, which made me anxious. Even now, standing on the sidewalk in his designer jeans and pale gray Henley shirt, he looked uncomfortable.

  A loud cheer erupted to our left. One of the radio stations started whipping everyone up into a frenzy by tossing out t-shirts and recruiting people for a game. It was rather basic. Contestants were blindfolded and had to throw a football into a garbage can. Out of the six people chosen, only one was lucky enough to have the ball land inside the can.

  “Is that my girl, AG?”

  Before I could turn to see who it was, a pair of strong arms lifted me off the pavement and spun me around once.

  “Oh my gosh, Grant,” I exclaimed, giving him a big hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you?”

  “Ah, you know, same old, same old. What about you?” He draped an arm across my shoulders. His dark chocolate skin was warm against mine.

  “Nothing too exciting. My parents are visiting so we’re taking them to the game.” I motioned toward my best friend. “You remember Stephanie?”

  “Absolutely. How are you, beautiful?”

  Stephanie grinned and shook his hand.

  “And this is—”

  “Alastair Holden. Good to meet you, Grant.” His introduction was more professional than friendly. A look of surprise flashed on Grant’s face.

  “Uh, wow. Wasn’t expecting to run into the big boss today,” he laughed, extending his hand.

  Alastair shook it, studying him with a cool, dispassionate gaze.

  I gave him a look. “Grant is the sports producer at WTDO.”

  “If this is your first time at an arena football game, you picked a good one. These two teams don’t like each other so it’ll be an exciting one to watch. They don’t call it the War on I-4 for nothing.”

  Thawing out a little, Alastair grinned. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Alright, I should get inside.” Grant gave me a quick squeeze good-bye. “Great seeing you, AG. Nice to meet you, Mr. Holden.”

  Stephanie waited until he was out of earshot before snickering. “Mr. Holden. I’m sorry, that’s hilarious.”

  “You find my employee’s respect amusing?” he lifted a brow.

  “No. It’s just funny to hear people refer to you so properly. I mean, you’re Alastair, the guy my best friend tripped and fell into. You’re not,” she made air quotes, “Mr. Holden.”

  “I’m not?”

  “Ugh, you’re so stuffy and British. Loosen up,” she chided.

  Running an index finger across his lips, he smiled. “Stuffy and British. Where have I heard that before?” Tilting his head, he eyed me with delight.

  “See?” I poked him in the side. “I’m not the only one.”

  “The two of you share the same brain,” he said dryly. “I thought one smart mouth was bad enough.”

  Stephanie and I exchanged glances and laughed. I liked teasing him, especially when I had a partner in crime to add to the fun. Maintaining his cool-as-ice demeanor, Alastair shook his head and continued scanning the crowd.

  “I’m gonna go check out what that radio station is doing. Be right back.” Stephanie bounded off in the direction of the large crowd.

  I sidled up close to Alastair, placing my hands on his waist. It was like touching marble.

  “You okay, chief?”

  “Yes.”

  I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. “Can I ask a favor?”

  He stared at me blankly, not moving or answering.

  “I would really appreciate it if you told Paxton and that other guy to take the afternoon off. They could go to Disney World or something.”

  The muscle in his jaw twitched. I knew he hated this.

  “They’re here for your protection.”

  “I know,” I said quietly. “But you’re here with me. And my parents are on their way. I just…it would mean a lot to me if their first time meeting you didn’t include a private security team tailing us.”

  He scanned my face with eyes as hard as granite. Getting him to back down was going to take a huge effort on my part.

  “No.”

  Swallowing back a bitter response, I looked away. His whole demeanor was off-putting and this just added to my annoyance. Lacing my fingers through his, I gave his hands a quick squeeze.

  “Please. Just for today.”

  “Lia, don’t argue with me. You’re being followed. They stay.”

  My temper flared. “By a tabloid reporter, not a psychopath.”

  Tension from our combined stubbornness blossomed and spread around us. He was immoveable but so was I.

  “They. Stay,” he said through clenched teeth. “This discussion is over.”

  The finality of his words shackled me. I didn’t like feeling as though I’d been backed into a corner. That was usually when my claws came out.

  “Jackass,” I snapped.

  “Feel better now that you’ve gotten that off your chest?”

  “Do not stand there and make a joke out of this. You’re being ridiculous. I don’t need baby-sitters. I’m about two seconds away from telling all three of you to get back on your goddam plane and leave.”

  Softening his expression marginally, he bowed his head. “You have to trust me,” he said. “I’m not doing this to be difficult. I’m doing this to keep you safe.”

  A cold chill swept through my body. Much like last night, I had a feeling he wasn’t telling me everything. The way he looked at me pretty much confirmed my suspicions.

  “Hey you two, look who I found.” Stephanie’s sing-song vo
ice sliced through the murky gloom hovering over us. My parents stood next to her, beaming at me. Flashing my biggest, brightest smile I hugged them.

  “Ready for some football, kiddo?” my dad asked, ruffling my hair. I laughed. That gesture drove my sister crazy but I didn’t mind it.

  “Not really.”

  “I’m ready for the air conditioning,” my mom stated, fanning herself. “How do you put up with all this heat?”

  “I only go outside early in the morning or late at night,” I joked.

  Their attention turned toward Alastair, the lone stranger in the group. He waited patiently to be introduced, studying them in the same guarded, curious way he’d done when we met. I took a deep breath.

  “Uh, Mom, Dad, this is Alastair.”

  His abrupt switch from stony to charming was lightning fast. As many times as I’d seen it, I was still amazed at how smoothly the mask morphed from ‘don’t talk to me’ to ‘tell me your life story,’ especially around people he met for the first time. His expertise at showing only what others needed to see was second to none.

  “Alastair Holden,” he smiled, extending his hand. “Pleasure to meet you both.”

  The accent alone did it for my mother. I thought glitter and stars were going to burst from her eyes.

  “Joseph.” My dad shook his hand. “This is my wife Lillian. My daughter tells us you’re from Scotland?”

  “England, actually. I moved to Scotland several years ago to work for my grandfather’s company.”

  “Family business, huh? What do you specialize in?”

  And just like that my dad and Alastair spent the next half hour talking about market analysis, financial projections and other sleep-inducing topics. Thankfully, the suite was stocked with food and beverages. Stephanie, my mom and I snacked on raw vegetables and cookies.

  “Those two hit it off,” Stephanie remarked.

  “Yeah. My dad can talk the ears off a deaf person. I’m not surprised.”

  “He seems like a nice young man, Lia. A little shy but nice.”

  “Shy?” I laughed at my mother. “Alastair is many things. Shy is not one of them.”

  “I have to agree with her on that, Mrs. M. I prefer to say he’s—”

  “Stuffy and British,” we said in unison.

  “You girls,” she shook her head. We settled into our seats and watched some of the game. A loud cheer erupted as the Orlando Predators scored a touchdown against the Tampa Bay Storm. I looked over to my right to see if my dad and Alastair were still chatting. They were. I was floored by how at ease he seemed to be with my family. His whole demeanor, though guarded, was friendly and approachable. Our eyes met briefly. As frustrating as he could be at times, he still took my breath away.

  Images of our rendezvous on the kitchen table filled my mind. His sounds, movements and the way he kissed me all flashed through my memory. An ache steadily grew at my core. I parted my lips slightly in order to get more oxygen. Alastair’s eyes darkened as he watched me.

  “Lia.”

  I jumped, whipping my head around to see what my mother wanted.

  “Do you know where the ladies’ room is?”

  “Uh, yeah. Down the hall to the left.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You have that deer in headlights look again,” Stephanie whispered after my mom walked away. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  She looked at me skeptically. “If you say so. Oh! So, Friday night. We have the VIP section reserved, right? I think the entire staff from ShortCuts is coming.” Her whole face lit up talking about the upcoming going away party. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Alastair stand up and pull his cell phone out of his pocket. He scowled at the screen. My heart sank.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have to take care of something,” he told my father. Stopping next to my chair, he tilted my chin up and brushed his thumb over my lips. The small, intimate gesture was just enough to let me know our heated discussion was a distant memory. I smiled, comforted by the warm glow in his eyes.

  His phone rang, putting an end to our little moment. Answering with a gruff, “Holden,” he walked out.

  My dad came over and sat with us.

  “All done talking his ear off?” I teased.

  “He’s very personable. Smart, too. To be that young and run a successful worldwide company is impressive. I don’t know how you kids do it these days. I’m tired just thinking about it.”

  “Oh, stop,” I laughed. “You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you ever retired.”

  “I did retire.”

  “Yeah but then you started doing consulting work. Mom is right. You have busy bee syndrome.”

  My mother rejoined us a couple minutes later. “You finally let that poor boy out of your clutches, Joe? I saw him in the hallway on the phone. I hope he’s not working on a Saturday.”

  Another loud cheer filled the arena as the Predators scored their fifth touchdown. While they watched the game, I waited for Alastair to return. After twenty minutes passed I started to feel uneasy. The phone calls never lasted this long unless there was a major problem. Tempted to go out in the hallway, I crossed my legs in an effort to remain centered and relaxed. Didn’t work as well as I wanted it to. My leg bobbed up and down in a nervous rhythm. I willed the anxious energy to subside but all it did was relocate to my foot, which tapped against the glass window.

  Muffled conversation between my parents and Stephanie floated around me. I caught bits and pieces of it. Where should we go to eat…They sure do score a lot of points in arena football…Why didn’t the quarterback just run with the ball…When do you start your new job…We should go to games this way back home.

  The beeping of my phone cleared the fog from my head.

  4:48pm Have to go take care of a few things. Paxton will take you home.

  That was it? That was all he had to say? I shoved the phone back in my pocket, created an excuse to tell my parents and made no effort to pay attention to the rest of the game.

  * * *

  I stared into the darkness, trying to make sense of the shadows on my walls. Insomnia had a pretty good stranglehold on me. I hadn’t heard from Alastair since his terse text at the game. Paxton was no help either. He just said there were some issues at the office and Alastair had to be on an emergency conference call. I didn’t believe a word of it.

  Glowing digital numbers taunted me from the nightstand with their giddy declaration that it was only three-thirty in the morning. I groaned, burying my face into the pillow. It still smelled like Alastair, immediately causing me to miss him like crazy. I rolled over and reached for the cell phone. As my eyes adjusted to the bright home screen I saw I had no messages.

  Tossing the phone back on the nightstand I sighed. Heat lightning lit up the sky outside, illuminating my bedroom. I closed my eyes and willed myself to fall asleep. When it became clear that wasn’t going to happen, I got up and did laundry. I thought maybe the mundane task would lull me to sleep. Nope. I paced the apartment, watched some TV and took a shower.

  I couldn’t stand being trapped between these walls any longer so I drove out to Lake Eola. Early morning joggers loped along the path, focused on their pacing. I wasn’t dressed for a serious run but did manage to get in a lap around the lake. I noticed one guy casually walking near the water’s edge carrying a camera. Eying him suspiciously, I slowed down. He raised the camera and snapped a few pictures of the swans floating gracefully on the lake.

  Shaking my head at my own paranoia, I went back to my car. I stopped dead in my tracks. An envelope sat on the windshield, stuck under the wiper. Looking around, I saw no one. Paxton wasn’t even following me. He’d gone back to the hotel after dropping me off at home last night. Whoever did this knew I didn’t have any eyes on me.

  Angry, I grabbed the envelope and tore it open. There were only two photos inside this time; one of me and Nathan from the other night and one of me with Alastair, Stephanie and my parents in
front of the Amway Center. So much for the adult babysitters being on top of things.

  A slip of paper floated to the ground. I picked it up and unfolded it.

  Tell your ex-boyfriend to back off or photographs like this will be the least of your worries.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I stormed out of the elevator before it opened all the way and banged on the penthouse suite door. No answer. I fumed, pacing the small hallway. Reaching for my phone, I checked to see if I had any messages. Nothing. I knocked on the door again. From inside, I heard footsteps on the marble floor.

  “I can hear you in there,” I called out.

  The door opened. Paxton stood solemnly in front of me.

  “Good morning, Miss Meyers.”

  “Hi, Paxton. Is he awake?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll wait in the—”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t let you do that.” He blocked the doorway with his sizable, bodyguard frame. “Mr. Holden would prefer if you stayed at your flat until he can come to you. You shouldn’t even be here right now. It’s not safe.”

  I nearly exploded. “Not safe? If it’s not safe why aren’t you or that other guy acting like my shadows?”

  “Scott had to take care of something for him. I’m meant to stay here.”

  More vague answers. More hard to read, blank expressions. Did they all go to the same School of Stoicism? Royally pissed off, I dropped the envelope at Paxton’s feet.

  “Well, this was on my car when I finished my run at Lake Eola.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What were you doing out there? I told you not to leave the flat when I dropped you off last night.”

  “I am not a caged animal,” I yelled. “I can come and go as I please. Why can none of you get that through your thick skulls?”

  “It’s not up to me, Miss Meyers. I’m only following what Mr. Holden wants.”

  “Of course,” I grumbled. “He always gets what he wants.”

  Bending down to pick up the envelope, he frowned. I had the distinct impression he was keeping something from me. My head spun. I’d had enough of all this secrecy bullshit.

 

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