Caught in the Storm

by Brownell, Rachael

  To my surprise, he agreed.

  "So..." I say but let my voice fade into the emptiness of the limo.

  "I'm guessing you're not a fan of silence," he laughs.

  "It's not that. I just feel like our conversation was interrupted."

  "That's not the only thing that was interrupted," he begins. I can feel the seat shift as he turns to me, placing his hand on my knee. "But I think that can wait until later. Right now, I'm going to take you back to your place, and I want you to pack a bag. Anything you'll need for the next few weeks. Keeping in mind that we'll have to go shopping for a few things when we get there."

  "Shopping?"

  "Yeah. I have a few appearances and you'll need dressier clothes, but don't worry about that now. Bring everyday things. Shorts, a bathing suit, shoes. We can get everything else later."

  "Okay. How long do you think I'll be gone? I want to leave my roommate a note."

  "A week, probably two. I have to come back to Houston at the end of the month."

  "And my parents?" I ask, not wanting him to forget the deal we made.

  "We can go see them in the morning before we leave. Our plane departs at two o'clock. Will that give us enough time?"

  Doing the math in my head, I nod even though he can't see me. My parents live a little over an hour outside the city. Being Sunday, there won't be any traffic in the morning. My parents return from church around eleven o'clock, so if we arrive just as they're getting home, that would give us a little over an hour to visit before we have to head back.

  "That should work," I reply as the car comes to a stop. The familiar sound of a train barreling down the tracks catches my attention, and when I look out the window, I realize we're a block away from my house.

  I never told him where I lived, though. Beth dropped me off at the store to meet Gina on her way to work, and Gina gave me a ride to the hotel.

  "How did he know?" I ask, staring at the train as it passes in front of us. Another cargo train. We could be here for a while.

  "It's his job to know, Amelia."

  "Did he run a background check on me or something?"

  "More than likely. Garcia is cautious and doesn't trust easily. It's his job to protect me. He may not have gone about it the right way, but his intentions were in the right place. Did you not want me to know where you lived?"

  Not really, I think to myself. It's a shithole apartment in a shady neighborhood, but it's all we can afford. Beth works as much as she can to pay her half of the rent, and I'm living off my savings right now.

  Johnathan's probably never been in a neighborhood like this before. When he told me about his life, his family, the vision he painted with glamorous. His 'humble' beginnings included growing up with your father as the mayor. I’m sure they never lived in a tiny apartment on the wrong side of town.

  Me? I grew up on a farm. I bailed hay, fed the animals, shoveled shit from stalls. For fun, I'd ride my horse the five miles to my best friend Michael’s house at the crack of dawn. We'd spend the day exploring, climbing trees and unplugging from life. I was, and part of me still is, a tomboy. I prefer jeans and boots over a dress and heels.

  Hell, Michael might drop dead if he saw me in heels. We skipped prom together, opting for a movie night in the 'big city' of Houston instead. It wasn't until he started dating his now wife that I moved away from home and was forced to let go of the country girl I've always been.

  "What is it?" Johnathan asks when I don't answer him.

  "It's just, we come from very different backgrounds. You'll see what I mean tomorrow."

  "I don't care where you came from, Amelia." He pauses. "Let me rephrase that. I care about your past and your upbringing, but I also know that it doesn't define who you are today. We may have been brought up differently, but I still believe that being different is what will make this work."

  "This work? What do you mean?"

  "You're coming back home with me. What do you think I mean?"

  The whistle of the train catches me off guard, causing me to jump slightly.

  "I thought this was just for image’s sake. A few dates. Now it's turned into you showing me where you're from. You meeting my parents. This is all just moving a little fast for me. We barely know each other, Johnathan. I'm not sure I can do this."

  Honesty flows from me with little effort. My fears and uncertainty have taken over.

  I've always been a trusting person. Too trusting according to Michael. It was the one thing I promised him I would work on when I left.

  Apparently I'm not doing as great of a job as I thought I was.

  Sleeping with a man hours after meeting him. Knowing nothing about him yet agreeing to let him take me hours from home. Putting on a facade to save face with my parents and the press.

  I've become the one thing I swore I never would... fake.

  As we pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex, Johnathan let's out a sigh. "If this isn't what you want, I can't force you to come with me. I won't. But I want you to think about it tonight. Call me in the morning and let me know what you decide. And please, Amelia, if you want to know anything, just ask. I'll tell you anything you want to know."

  My door opens, but I don't move. Depending on my decision, this may be the last time I see him, and I'm not ready to leave him just yet.

  Shifting my body so we're facing each other, I reach up and place a hand on either side of his face, taking in his gorgeous features. The little bit I can see from the sliver of light coming through the open door. His eyes that I originally thought were a dark shade of brown are actually ice blue. It was one of the first things I noticed about him once I got a good look at him in the light. His eyes are a complete contradiction to his jet-black hair that's always slicked back, every strand perfectly in place. Neither of those things matches his lips, though.

  They're a perfect shade of peach, and when he grins at me, the left side rises slightly higher than the right. They make every part of my body tingle with excitement. My need for him grows and is compounded until there's only one way to satisfy me.

  Pressing my lips to his is the only way I know how to say goodbye to him. Maybe for a few hours, maybe forever. Still, I put everything I feel into that one kiss. Fear, excitement, passion, strength.

  Just as he's about to wrap his arms around me, I pull away and slide out of the car. When I reach back in to snag my purse, I find him with his head leaned back against the seat, breathing heavily.

  "I'll call you," I promise. It's a promise I plan to keep. No matter how uncertain I am about what happens next, I'll let him know as soon as I make a decision.

  * * *

  I've been pacing the living room for close to an hour, staring at my laptop, when Beth casually walks through the door.

  "Nice dress," she comments.

  Changing didn't seem important when I first came home. Aside from removing my heels. They were killing me.

  "Thanks," I reply dismissively as I stop pacing and stare at the screen.

  Beth walks up behind me, the scent of greasy fries assaulting my senses, and looks over my shoulder.

  "Checking in on the boyfriend?"

  "He's not my boyfriend," I say, slamming my laptop closed and flopping down on the couch.

  "If you say so."

  "I don't know what to do, Beth. He wants me to go back with him tomorrow." Beth raises an eyebrow at me but doesn't comment. I fill her in on Johnathan's proposal, as well as how he agreed to meet my parents as I make her a cup of coffee and me a cup of tea. That shocked her as much as it did me. When I'm done, we stare at each other for what feels like hours as we sip our respective drinks at the kitchen table..

  I can see the wheels turning in her mind. She's thinking it over, deciding what to say very carefully. Beth is the calculated one of us. I tend to make decisions with my heart. Beth uses her head.

  I need her on this one.

  My heart is telling me to drive to the hotel and jump in bed with him. To let him take
me wherever he wants to.

  Let's hope Beth has a less sexually driven answer.

  Popping out of her chair, Beth begins to pace between the kitchen table and the couch. Back and forth, wearing a path into our already worn and dingy carpet.

  "Okay," she finally says. "You can do one of two things. Either you can take the risk and go with him or you can stay here and annoy the hell out of me wondering if you should have gone with him."

  "Not funny," I say through gritted teeth.

  "Well, what's holding you back? This morning you were really excited about this guy." Flopping onto the couch, Beth stares at me across the room where I’m rooted to my chair.

  "I barely know him."

  "Is that why you were about to do a Google search on him? Do you really think that's going to tell you the things you need to know?"

  She has a point. Goggle will tell me things I want to know but also things I don’t. I won’t be able to distinguish between fact and fiction.

  "I mean... probably not but you never know what I might learn."

  "Amelia, talk to him. Get answers to the questions that are bothering you. Then make a decision. I'll support you either way."

  Good to know I'll at least have one person on my side after I make this decision.

  "I'm heading to bed. Will I see you in the morning?" Pushing herself off the couch and stretching her arms over her head, Beth yawns as she speaks.

  "Yeah. If I decide to go, we'll leave here just before ten to head to my parents’."

  Beth crosses the room, then pulls me out of my chair and into a hug. "Love you, girly."

  "Love you too."

  And then she's gone, disappearing down the hallway. Leaving me alone to contemplate my decision.

  My phone vibrates on the table next to my laptop. I'm sure it's him. Beth's home, Joseph hates me, and my parents are probably asleep. Who else would be texting me?

  JOHNATHAN: Just wanted to wish you goodnight and tell you how lonely this huge bed is without you in it.

  Damn it! He's so fucking sweet. When he's not being naughty and bossy, that is.

  ME: Goodnight, Johnathan.

  JOHNATHAN: That's all I get?

  ME: What were you hoping for?

  JOHNATHAN: I miss you too. Wish I were there. Come back and get me so I can ride you.

  There's the dirty-minded man I met the other night.

  ME: You're not making this any easier, you know.

  JOHNATHAN: That's my plan. Make you miss me, want me. Remind you of the fun we have together.

  How could I forget? I did things with him I've never done before. Things I'll never do again with anyone else. Things I haven't stopped thinking about since that night.

  Fuck Google. I'll ask him everything I want to know.

  ME: Since you're up...

  JOHNATHAN: Oh, I'm up. I've been UP since the restaurant.

  A giggle escapes me. I can't help it. I should have seen that coming.

  ME: I have questions.

  JOHNATHAN: Ask away.

  Where to begin?

  ME: Are you a serial killer?

  JOHNATHAN: Seriously? I didn't see that coming. No, I'm not.

  ME: What are your intentions with me?

  JOHNATHAN: Right now I want you naked and beneath me. When we get to my house, I'll still want that, but I also want to get to know you better. Away from the city. Away from the press. To show you my life isn’t about camera flashes and people following me.

  ME: I've always dreamed of being in the spotlight but not like this. I'm not sure I'm cut out for it. The fake smiling. Dressing up just to eat.

  Up on stage, with my eyes closed, I don't have an issue being the center of attention. While I'm cutting a piece of steak and drinking wine... that's different. My every move could be criticized. For no good reason.

  What if I chew wrong? Or don't hold my glass the way I should?

  At least my criticism on stage is about my voice. Not that it’s easy to hear if people think I suck.

  Either way, no matter which spotlight I'm under, people will have an opinion. Some will like me, others won't. It's the way the world works.

  JOHNATHAN: It's a lifestyle. Not everyone enjoys it, I get that. Just know that it's not like this every day. That's what I want to show you. Where I live, I'm just another person on the streets. Yes, I'm still a senator and people still stop me and want to talk to me, but it's not all the time.

  Staring at my phone, I type out my response but I'm afraid to send it to him. Once the decision is made, I plan to stick with it. No turning back. No changing my mind. I'll own it, just like every other decision I've ever made.

  JOHNATHAN: Where did you go?

  ME: I'll see you at nine thirty.

  And just like that, I've agreed to go home with a man I barely know. Again. Only this time, it's not just for a night of pleasure, it's for weeks.

  Ten

  Johnathan

  "Call her," Gina insists.

  What a pleasant surprise to find her waiting for me in my room. I should have expected it. She always seems to appear out of thin air after any type of press coverage.

  "Pressuring her to come back with me is not going to work," I state, pouring myself a glass of scotch. I hate the shit, but I need something to take the edge off right now, and what I really want I can't have. Not with Gina watching my every move.

  "The press loves her, Johnathan. They love the two of you together. It's been nothing but a positive response since they first snapped her picture. Your approval ratings are on the rise, and the last four months of speculation is yesterday’s news. Unless you want to go back to fielding questions about—"

  One glance in Gina's direction and she stops herself. No one is allowed to say her name, mention, or reference her in any way. She's nothing but a bad memory now.

  At least she would be if the press would stop asking about her.

  "Figure out what you need to do to convince her to go with you and then do it. Whatever it takes." Standing and downing the double vodka she poured herself, Gina takes her leave but stops at the door to get in one last shot. "I'll see you on the tarmac at two o'clock tomorrow. Hopefully you won't be alone."

  "I won't," I curse under my breath.

  I wish that were true. I could feel her slipping away from me in the car. Something is holding her back. If it truly is the fact she doesn't know much about me, she's going to have to accept it. I don't share personal details with anyone. There's too much at stake.

  Still, it wouldn't hurt to turn up the charm a little. Show her a little attention. Maybe it'll convince her that I care enough for her to agree to come home with me. Because at the end of the day, Gina's right. With Amelia by my side, people have stopped dredging up my past. It's almost as if they've forgotten the accusations.

  Texting her, I don't have to wait long for a response. Good. That means there's hope for her yet.

  Finding the perfect balance of sweet and naughty, I keep our communication going as long as possible. Then, after a long few minutes, I see the text I've been hoping for all night. The words I worked hard to get her to say.

  She's agreed to come with me.

  All that stands between us and the flight home now are her parents. According to Amelia, they're not my biggest fans. Whether it be political or personal, a few hours together isn't going to change their minds. I'll make sure to reiterate that to Amelia on the way there. I'd hate for her to get her hopes up just to be disappointed. Or change her mind.

  I can't let that happen.

  As soon as I'm sure she's tucked in for the night, I shoot Garcia a message. We have one last piece of business to take care of before we leave town. Business neither Gina nor Amelia need to know about.

  ME: Time to go.

  GARCIA: Meet you out back.

  The car is running as I slip out the back door of the hotel. Once we pull out of the parking lot, Garcia lowers the privacy glass.

  "He's expecting you in twenty minu
tes. We should be right on time," Garcia states as he takes a sharp left. The limo picks up speed as soon as he straightens it out.

  "Good. Let's make this quick."

  "Everything is already in motion. All you have to do is give your confirmation, and Mendez will take care of the rest."

  "If all he wanted was my word, he could have taken directions from you," I growl. This could have been taken care of last night, but Mendez is a prickly bastard. He only does business with one person. He's been burned before, I get it, but he also knows Garcia works for me.

  "You realize he knows I'm a cop, right? Even with as many transactions as we've done over the years, he still doesn't trust me. He shouldn't. The only person he can trust is himself."

  Garcia has a point. It took me two years before I trusted him, and even then I bought his silence. Having him here, it’s security. I pay him to protect my life, my image, and my investments. Dealing with people like Mendez is part of the business.

  Mendez's goons are standing guard when we approach. They wave me through but stop Garcia from entering.

  "He's with me," I state, stepping up to the taller of the two, staring him square in the eyes. I may have a bodyguard but I can hold my own when necessary.

  "Boss said only you," he huffs, his breath smelling of stale cigarettes and cheap whiskey.

  "Tell your boss I'm leaving, then."

  Taking a step back, I turn and motion for Garcia to follow me. He knows the drill. Mendez pulls this shit every so often, trying to get me alone. To isolate me.

  As much as he doesn't trust anyone, I trust him even less. I wouldn't take an unopened bottle of water from him. He's a mean bastard. I wouldn't put it past him to have poisoned it somehow.

  The kicker is... If I don't see him tonight, the entire operation comes to a standstill. For me that means I'm out a ton of money. It also means my little 'problem' won't be taken care of for another few weeks.