by Kahlen Aymes
Alex raised his head to look into Allison’s face, his own sadness too much to hide. He’d been planning on taking Angel, but now he had no interest in attending. “I’ll write you another check, but no.”
“But Avery is a major sponsor; you have to come, Alex! I have five tables reserved! The board members are attending as well as all the VPs! It’s not black tie, so—”
Alex interrupted her in his irritation. Allison had a penchant for being overly dramatic.
“I’m not in the mood, okay? I don’t have to do a goddamn thing, except run the business! I certainly don’t have to keep up appearances and socialize with people I can barely tolerate when I feel like shit! I’m not going, Allison.”
Allison’s chin jutted out. “You know, Alex, someone might be trying to do you a favor! Go to the damn benefit!”
“Alex! Allison! Josh and Cole are back! Time for dinner,” their mother called from the other room.
“Cole?” A new anxiety gripped Alex’s chest. Josh had made a grocery run for their mother, but he had no idea his brother would be at the dinner. He quickly walked into the other room to come face to face with Cole as he unloaded a grocery bag next to their mother. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you with her?” he asked angrily.
“It’s good to see you, too,” Cole shot back blandly. “Angel is fine, Alex.”
Cora looked up, confusion settling on her features. “Angel? When are we going to meet her, Alex? And why was Cole with her when she’s dating you?”
Alex ignored his mother’s question and concentrated on Cole. “I asked why aren’t you with her?”
Cole smirked and set the last of the groceries on the counter as Allison began to help her mother put them away. All of them took note of Alex’s agitation but only Allison and Cole understood.
“She doesn’t need babysitting, and she told me she’d have me arrested for stalking if I didn’t leave her alone.”
“No, she won’t. She’s aware of the situation.”
“Yep, and she told me to get lost. She’s agreed to let me check in with her, but that’s it.”
Alex’s face clouded in anger, and he clenched his teeth. He felt like acid was eating away at the skin of his neck and face. He’d been furious with Cole the night Angel left and still wasn’t in a forgiving mood. “I didn’t agree!”
“No offense, little brother, but right now, that doesn’t seem to be a factor. She just wants some space. She agreed to call me when she’s coming and going, and so far she has. I trust her. She just doesn’t want me following her around. The um… problem is being monitored, instead.” Cole’s eyebrow shot up and the look on his face communicated what was needed. Alex visibly relaxed. “Since the recent disownment, well—” Cole’s eyes darted to his mother to see if she was listening, “—let’s just say the situation is under control. Chill out.”
“You can’t protect her if you aren’t with her!”
“Bancroft assured me she’s not in any danger. Swanson’s family cut him loose, remember?”
Alex’s lungs constricted, and Allison’s hand closed around his forearm. She met his smoldering green eyes. “Go to the benefit, Alex.”
“Is this your backward way of informing me that Angel will be in attendance? If she knows I’m going, she’ll probably skip it despite her do-gooder nature.”
“She’ll be there, Alex,” Allison reassured him with a nod. “Trust me.”
Alex was already walking to Cora to place a soft kiss on her cheek. “Forgive me, Mother, but I won’t be able to stay for dinner. I’ll deal with you later,” he shot at Cole, but he was already on his way out.
Cora’s glance darted between her other two children’s faces. “Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?”
* * *
“This is Angel After Dark. What would you like to talk about tonight?”
Angel’s hands trembled every time she pushed the button that connected her with a new call. She was a little stunned Alex hadn’t called or tried to see her, and she was disappointed though she’d never admit it out loud. She still held her breath until she heard the voice on the other end of every call. He wasn’t one to give up easily. However, she hadn’t heard a peep from him, not once in the month since she’d burned the contents of the folder.
Becca admonished her for not giving Alex the opportunity to explain, but Angel had been too angry and hurt to confront him the night it happened. She was doing okay and would continue to put on a brave face, as long as she could maintain enough distance. After all, how could she give advice if she couldn’t practice what she preached?
The problem was she missed him so much. The piercing pain of betrayal she felt had been replaced with an aching sadness, that seemed to be getting worse, and followed her through everything she did. She was haunted with memories; his presence lingered in so many places.
She put on a brave face, letting burning tears fall only when she was alone, sometimes in slow silence and only once in body-shaking spasms that she couldn’t control. It happened when a week had passed without one attempt from Alex to contact her, and she was forced to face the fact that there was a chance he never would. Now, he still had the power to reach in and pull her heart from her chest; she silently chastised herself for falling in love with him in the first place. She knew it would all fall apart, yet she ignored her longstanding convictions. It was difficult to counsel other women on heartbreaking situations when her heart was no less broken.
Angel glanced through the glass at Christine as the call ended, grateful she had a three and a half minute break while the commercials rolled. Darian was sitting across from her for the first time in weeks, and she felt his eyes bore into her like a knife. He’d been there for two hours, and the situation hung like a wrecking ball over her head. Finally, she couldn’t stand another second of it and her head popped up.
“What?” Her elbows were on the edge of the desk, and she raised both hands in exasperation, letting them land with a thud as she glared at him. “Why are you here? Go have boy-time with Alex! You’re bothering the shit out of me!”
Darian sat back in the chair, his unhurried actions irritating Angel even further. “I’m the producer of this show, Angel. It’s my right to be here.” He studied her as she fidgeted in her chair and fiddled with a pen on the desk in front of her. She pretended to read over some paperwork that Christina had given her, but her eyes finally shot up to meet his. “Alex didn’t want to have boy-time, as you put it.”
Angel had the grace to flush and pushed back from the desk. Her discomfort was apparent to Darian as he studied her. She was flustered, some tendrils escaping from the messy bun she had on the top of her head, and her face was tense. “Just say it and leave.”
“Say what? That it’s unfair you didn’t give him a chance to explain anything? Okay. It was unfair.” His voice was devoid of emotion, but his mouth lifted in the start of a sardonic smile. “Happy now?” He wasn’t sure whom he felt sorrier for: Alex or Angel. They both clearly cared about the other, and now they were both letting pride screw things up.
Angel sighed heavily. “No, I’m not happy at all,” she answered in a quiet tone. “It’s so great that he ran to you with his problems like a whiney little girl.”
Darian laughed at the absurdity of the statement. “Hardly. I’m his best friend, and, despite popular belief, Alex is only human. It came out after half a bottle of scotch.”
“Yes, I should have talked to him, but I felt violated!” Suddenly, Angel felt defensive. “I was so goddamned mad! We had such a beautiful evening planned and it all turned to shit. It felt like a lie to me, and it ripped me open. He doesn’t trust me at all.”
“I’d be mad, too, but he feels the trust is lacking on both sides. Understand that Alex is someone people want to get close to and not always for the right reasons. He’s made a habit of protecting himself, his family, and his company. It wasn’t personal. You were no different from anyone else.”
�
�Yes, well, that’s the problem. No different and not personal. It sure felt fucking personal!” Her voice rose as hysteria threatened to grip her chest. Her closed fist flew to press between her eyebrows, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she fought the emotions down.
“That isn’t what I meant, Angel. I shouldn’t be the one telling you this. You should call Alex.”
She walked across the room with her back to Darian. She didn’t want him to see the trembling of her chin or the glistening tears building, despite all of her efforts to keep them at bay. “I’ll think about it. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“You’re correct. Maybe he doesn’t, but you’ll never know unless you call.”
Let me just get through tomorrow night, she thought. “Okay, maybe I will next week.” She couldn’t be an emotional mess on stage; she was a professional. “Now, will you get the hell out of my studio? I need to finish this show.” Her voice wavered slightly, and Darian got up and placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently.
“Call sooner than later, Angel.”
Angel closed her eyes, a lone tear falling from one eye tumbled down her soft cheek. She quickly whisked it away with her hand as Darian’s hands released her, and he silently walked out of the studio.
“Angel, you’re on the air in ten seconds,” Christine called through the intercom.
Angel sucked in air, filling her lungs to capacity, and ran both hands through her hair, letting them stop to fist and tug on the silky strands. She took her place in front of the microphone and shoved the headphones back on her head as she watched Christine use her fingers to silently count down; three, two, one…
She went back to work, looking forward to the Ambien that would grant eight hours of relief later when she went home.
“This is Angeline Hemming; we’re going into the last hour of the show, and it’s time for our next caller.” She pushed a call button. “Go ahead, you’re on the air. What’s your name?”
“Dr. Hemming! It’s Whitney! I called you a few months back, and you gave me advice about my boyfriend. Do you remember me?”
The cold rush of apprehension raced over the surface of Angel’s skin as the voice and name registered. Her heart started pounding sickeningly in her chest, and the desk and room blurred while the room began to spin. Oh, my God!
She swallowed hard and found her voice; her eyes flashed angrily in Christine’s direction, who looked as horrified as Angel felt. How in the hell did this call get through? Angel mouthed silently.
I didn’t know! Christine mouthed back.
“Yes. Of course. How are you, Whitney?”
“I’m amazing!” the other woman gushed on the other end of the line. “I took your advice! I kicked my man to the curb, and he came crawling back to me about two weeks ago! Things are better than ever! He appreciates me now. I just wanted to thank you for your help.”
Angel felt sick to her stomach, and the chill on her skin was immediately replaced with raging fire seeping up from her neck to flush her face. Her breath rushed out, and her fingers curled into fists as unshed tears burned at the back of her eyes. She blinked them back hastily, praying for the strength she’d need to hide the turmoil she felt.
“Congratulations, Whitney,” she said in a steady voice. “Good for you. Just stay strong, and don’t let him use you again.”
Angel reached a hand forward to end the call. It was visibly shaking violently, and she struggled to control it, curling her fingers into her palm. Apparently, Alex had moved on in a hurry, straight back to the arms of a woman he’d told Angel wasn’t his equal.
Though her heart burned like it would consume her and she wanted to scream out loud, she straightened her back in defiance, her jaw jutting out as she clenched her teeth, steeling herself to face the fucking facts. Alex wasn’t going to call. He wasn’t going to apologize, and he sure as hell wasn’t as miserable as she was.
If the intensity of their time together had been a lie then she was better off! She was strong, untouchable… and it was time she remembered that. She told herself she wouldn’t let more tears fall for Alexander Avery. Not one fucking tear. And, she’d be damned if she’d ask Ally anything about her brother. Hell would freeze over first.
* * *
Alex glanced around at the hundreds of people crammed into the venue. It wasn’t like most of Allison’s functions. This one was more casual, teeming with more activity and enthusiasm, more youth, and people from all walks of life. It was also apparent that it had been much more heavily promoted. A satellite truck from KISS FM was parked outside, the jock broadcasting live from the event.
He only hoped that the alcohol flowed and the music was good enough to distract him until he could graciously escape without too much disdain from his little sister or his mother. His eyes searched for Allison. His parents, Cole, and Allison’s husband, Josh, were sitting at the table reserved for them as Alex walked up. He grimaced when he saw Whitney sitting next to Josh. What the hell is she doing here? he wondered. He stopped and seriously considered leaving but hesitated too long. His mother spotted him.
“Alex!” she called and patted the chair beside her that had been saved for him. He reluctantly moved forward and leaned down to kiss her cheek. His father met his eyes and the two exchanged a knowing look. Charles was aware that Alex would not welcome the presence of his ex-girlfriend at an event that he’d already tried to get out of attending.
“Hi, Mom. Dad.”
“I’m glad you’re here, Alex,” Charles stated and raised a hand to signal one of the waitresses to come over.
“I’m not,” he muttered as he pulled out the chair and sat down after shaking Josh’s hand and raising an eyebrow at Cole. Again, who was watching Angel? Bancroft had assured him that they were watching Swanson like a hawk, and he had confirmation that the Chicago mob was cutting ties with him. Alex was surprised that Swanson hadn’t met with an unexpected accident since he held no value to the organization and he knew too much. Top it off that he’d been accused of rape by the granddaughter of one of the most respected members of the organization, and Alex didn’t hold out much hope for him. Part of him was glad. In his mind, no one deserved death more than that bastard.
The round tables for ten were arranged in a circular pattern around the dance floor and covered in dark blue linen, but that was where high society ended. Drinks were being served in plastic cups, and the staff was dressed in jeans and blood red T-shirts with the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society logo on the back in white. The lights were low, like a nightclub environment, with votive candles in clusters on the tables. The number of people milling around and crowding the dance floor and stage made it seem more like a concert than an organized benefit. Alex had been less reluctant to make an appearance when Allison mentioned the dress was casual.
Alex could physically feel Whitney’s hungry eyes on him and had no choice but to speak with her. Obviously, Allison had invited her friend, but it would have been nice to be warned.
“Hello, Whitney; you look well.” She was wearing a somewhat loose-fitting dress in mauve that made her look younger and softer than he remembered. It was a nice compliment to her complexion, the one-shoulder style baring some tanned skin.
“Thank you, Alex. I’ve missed you,” Whitney said as she moved to the empty chair on his right, and, although Alex could guess what was coming and didn’t particularly want to deal with it, he was nonplussed and distracted, his green eyes roaming the room, scanning the faces for Angel.
“Where’s Allison?” he asked his mother, hoping the answer would also bring news of Angel.
“She’s backstage, darling.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait to see this!” Josh put in. Alex’s brother-in-law wore a happy grin. “She’s so excited.”
Alex’s face took on a mocking expression. “About what? She does ten of these damn things a year. This one does look less stuffy, though.”
“Allison is playing with the band!” Excitement danced in Cora’s e
yes.
Both of Alex’s eyebrows shot up and his lips lifted slightly in surprised amusement. “What? Is it a band or a string ensemble? Shit, I was hoping the music would be somewhat tolerable.”
“Alexander!” Cora admonished, but she was teasing as much as Alex was. She watched her middle child with careful consideration. Allison and Cole had spilled the whole story in her kitchen last weekend, and she finally understood the soulful mood haunting Alex the past few weeks. It also explained why she and Charles had seen so little of him in the past few months. It was clear that, finally, someone had touched his heart, and deeply. Cora heard about Angel from her other children but not much from Alex, which was perplexing. She was dying to meet her and know more, but the blonde sitting next to her son prevented her from asking any questions. She’d never liked Whitney, and she was relieved that Alex had moved on from her. “Are you okay, honey?”
Alex’s green eyes met hers, and she sensed his quiet sadness. “Yes. I’m fine, Mother.”
“Really?” she asked knowingly.
“I’m reeling, to be honest. I feel like I’m in a goddamn cage and someone is sitting on my chest. I just want to forget it ever happened.”
“You never forget the good stuff,” she said quietly.
“Yes, well, then I’m pretty much screwed for life.”
The din of the band testing out the sound system and a room full of voices allowed for their conversation to be kept between the two of them.
“What’s Whitney doing here?” his mother almost whispered, not wanting the woman to hear.
“Beats the hell out of me.” He shrugged slightly and shook his head. “She didn’t come with me. She probably wants to see Allison in the band. I wish to hell she wasn’t sitting next to me, though. I don’t need to deal with her bullshit tonight.”
The waitress came and took their drink orders as the lights dimmed further and a screaming riff of rock music split the air. Then it softened into a quiet harmony between an acoustic guitar and piano as a spotlight came up to reveal Allison dressed in tight black jeans and a sleeveless top covered in silver sequins. The two large fans positioned at the sides of the stage blew her hair and the fabric of the blouse around her body.
