Nash was at a loss. “You’re asking me to choose between Honey and you? What are we? Fifteen?”
“You don’t know anything about her past. About what she’s done.” He practically snarled. “About what she’s planning to do.”
“And you do?” Nash took a step forward, hands fisted as anger rolled over him like a tidal wave.
Hudson was quiet for a few moments. Then, with a sigh, he reached into his dress jacket and pulled out a file. It was folded in two, and he carefully organized it and then handed it over to Nash.
“What’s this?” Nash stared down at the file labeled: Honey Harrison, and then back up at his friend. “You investigated Honey?” he asked incredulously.
“I had to. I knew something was up with her. I’m the guy who follows his instincts, even if those instincts lead to places I’d rather not know about.”
Unease coupled with a healthy dose of fear punched him in gut. Nash stared down at the folder once more. “How bad is it?”
“Read it, Nash. I’m going to pour two stiff drinks.”
Nash watched his friend head into his house, and when the door banged shut behind him, he looked down at the file in his hand. After a few seconds, he made his way over to one of the large Adirondack chairs on his back deck and opened the folder.
21
Cinderella had nothing on Honey Harrison. Not a damn thing.
Sure, the princess might have had a pumpkin carriage, glass slippers, and a fairy godmother. But Honey had Regan. She glanced over her shoulder and giggled. And Tiny. Who knew a bald, tattooed giant of a man was into fashion? Or that those thick, stubby fingers could sew like a motherfu…
“Oh my God, Wyatt is going to kill me. I have to go.” Regan came up behind her, and their eyes met in the mirror. She kissed Honey on the cheek and grinned. “You look beautiful.” She stood back and winked. “I’ll see you there.” And then she disappeared out the door, a dark beauty in cream and gold.
“Booker isn’t going to know what hit him.” Tiny nodded approvingly and whistled. “Good call on the necklace.”
Dressed in a deep iridescent-blue strapless gown, with her hair pinned into a soft knot at the back of her head, Honey was a vision. The dress was simple, the cut elegant, an empire A-line that fell in soft waves to her feet. The dress was borrowed—a gift from Regan Thorne-Blackwell—as were the elbow-length gloves and the simple pearl beads at her neck. Those had belonged to her mother. The only thing her mom had never pawned for drugs. The only thing Honey had kept after she passed.
She gazed at herself in the mirror, stomach fluttering, emotions all over the place. The color was high in her cheeks, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. God, if Simone could see her now, she’d have the biggest laugh of her life. Honey Harrison on the verge of tears because she was in love.
I’m in love. A small smile crept over her face as she held those three words close like a secret.
I’m in love.
She thought back to earlier that morning. Back to when she’d been tangled up in Nash’s arms. When his mouth had been on her. His hands in her hair. His body inside hers. His heart beating against hers. Something had changed then. Her life had shifted, and she hadn’t seen it coming.
She laughed and caught herself, stopping short as the image in the mirror suddenly blurred. Slowly, her smile faded, and she squeezed her eyes shut, her mother’s voice suddenly inside her head.
“People like us don’t get a happy-ever-after, Honey Bee. Prince Charming sure as hell ain’t coming to this neck of the woods. You remember that, girlie. You take what you can get. All of it. You use them before they use you.”
“Hey, we need to go, or you’re going to be late.”
“Did you try Nash again?” She scooped up her silver clutch and checked her phone with a frown. She’d called Nash several times but had gotten his voice mail.
Tiny checked his cell phone and nodded. “He said he’d meet us there. Says he’s running late.”
“Oh.” Honey tried not to show her disappointment and double-checked her cell phone. Why hadn’t he responded to her messages? Why hadn’t he called her back?
“Let’s go. I don’t want to miss the appetizers. They’re the best part of the evening.” Tiny headed out of her apartment, giving her no choice. She pushed the unease aside, including the whisper of her mother’s voice in her ear, and followed him. She’d never been the kind of girl to get her panties in a knot over something silly like a missed phone call or text message.
But then she’d never been in love before. Ugh. Was this what she had to look forward to the rest of her life? Was she really going to turn into one of those girls?
Don’t be silly. Get your ass in gear.
Twenty minutes later, she and Tiny entered the main hall of the Community Support Center fundraiser. The room had been transformed to look like a royal court of old, and the theme, An Enchanted Mask Ball, was in full force.
She was handed a gilded silver mask, which Tiny insisted on arranging so as not to mess with the messy bun. He didn’t see the irony in that, so she let him have his fun, and all the while, her eyes scanned the room looking for Nash. There were a lot of folks mingling, chatting and drinking, all in fancy dress, but she didn’t see Nash or Hudson or any of the Blackwells. Even Regan, who’d left before her, wasn’t around. She tried Nash’s cell again, but it went straight to voice mail.
Something wasn’t right. She felt it in her bones. As her unease began to build, she paced the room nervously. She’d always been a woman who trusted her instincts, and right now, her instincts were telling her that something was going down. Something big. And she had no way to stop it.
She accepted a glass of champagne from a bubbly server. And then another. By the time she was on to her fourth glass, the appetizers were done and folks were being urged to find their seats. Her name card was on table number one, which was at the front of the room, but the rest of her party, the Blackwells including John and Darlene, were absent. So was Nash.
“Everything all right?” Andrea Lee patted Honey on the shoulder as she headed to her neighboring table.
Nothing was right.
Pasting a smile she didn’t feel on her face, Honey shrugged. “I don’t know where Nash or Hudson or anyone is. They’re really late.” She tried to smile but failed miserably. “I’m being silly.”
“I’m sure there’s a perfectly normal explanation. They’ll be along. You’ll see.” One of the servers came up to Andrea, and, after a quick nod, she gave Honey a warm hug. “I have to go. The caterer has a question, which, considering they’re about to start serving the first course, has me a little worried.” She stepped back and winked. “Enjoy the evening, Honey. You look beautiful.”
Feeling more than a little light-headed, Honey sat down at the large table for eight and stared at the empty chairs. Tiny and the rest of the staff from the Coach House were somewhere, but for the life of her, she couldn’t see them. Not surprising considering there were at least two hundred and fifty guests in the room. She pulled her cell out of her clutch and had a quick look. Nothing. No message. No missed call. After a few seconds of debate, she sent him a text message.
Hey, where are you?
She felt the curious looks from those who wondered about the lone woman at the Blackwell table. She glanced up and caught the eye of an older woman, who was past the age of being polite. She didn’t look away. She just smiled at Honey—a bittersweet sort of thing—as if she knew something Honey didn’t. The old Honey would have felt resentment. She would have looked at the woman and given her some attitude. Maybe she would have spoken. Stare much? You got a problem? It would have been immature and crass, but she wouldn’t have cared.
As it was, all she wanted was Nash’s warm eyes on her, and to feel the strength in his hands as they trailed up her spine. She wanted to hear the huskiness in his voice as he whispered in her ear.
Honey glanced down and noticed Nash had read her text. He didn’t reply.
<
br /> She carefully placed her cell on the table and attempted to eat her meal, but her stomach wouldn’t have it. She grabbed another glass of champagne instead. Not the smartest thing she’d ever done, but she needed the courage. Never had she felt so alone. So abandoned. And that was rich coming from a woman who’d basically raised herself.
Now, if Simone were here, she would take Honey by the hand and get her home before the night spiraled out of control. That was what best friends did for each other. But Simone wasn’t here, and she had no friends or allies in sight. No one had her back.
And the champagne kept flowing.
By the time the meal was over, Honey’s mood had gone from a soft seven to a hard two. How many times could she check for a message? Was she that pathetic? She picked up her phone one last time and, with nothing from Nash, called a cab. Her head was fuzzy and her stomach more than a little woozy. Unfortunately, being a Saturday night was a bit of a problem. Seemed as if Crystal Lake was a one-cab-company kind of town, and they were busy. Which meant Honey would have to wait thirty minutes to an hour for a ride.
Tossing her cell back into her clutch, she got up on wobbly legs and headed for the bathroom. She pasted a fake smile on her face, said a few hellos, nodded at the appropriate times, and finally found silence when she reached the powder room.
“Honey, you look pale.”
Andrea walked out of one of the stalls and washed her hands while Honey dabbed cold water on her face. “Too much champagne and not enough food.”
“Well, you handle it better than I do.” She smiled.
“I think I hide it better.”
Andrea gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got to run. We’ve got some business to handle before the band kicks in.”
Honey exhaled slowly and followed her friend out of the restroom. She didn’t go back to her table. Instead, she hung out near the back of the room, in the shadows where she didn’t feel so damn vulnerable. She watched several groups of people. Talking. Laughing. Sharing a connection with each other she’d never have.
Honey had always felt like an outsider, but never more so than she did right now. She sank further into the darkness and waited.
The tables had been cleared by the time Andrea Lee took to the stage. She hit the microphone a few times, and eventually, the chatter and noise died down enough for her to speak. She started out by thanking each and every person who bought a ticket to the sold-out event. To those who’d given their time and money in getting the fundraiser up and running. And to those who’d donated items for the silent auction and the live auction that would take place later in the evening. Applause followed those words.
Andrea cleared her throat and smiled out at the crowd. “Before we let the band have the stage, I need to say a few more words. Each year, we recognize someone in the community with a special award. A person who’s given selflessly. A person who’s made a difference. There are a lot of us here that fit that bill. One of the reasons I love Crystal Lake so much.”
More applause and a few shouts greeted those words.
“But this award is for someone who goes above and beyond. Someone who might have saved a life and didn’t know it. Or fixed a problem they didn’t know existed, based solely on their actions. It’s someone with a need to help others. Someone who would drive through a snowstorm on Christmas Eve because a young girl was in need. Tonight, it’s my absolute honor and privilege to give the Angel Blackwell Citizen award to Honey Harrison.”
At the sound of her name, Honey’s head shot up. What? Confused, she looked up at the stage, aware that everyone was looking for her. There was a roaring in her ear.
“Honey?”
Tiny appeared in front of her, a big smile in place. He offered his arm and motioned toward the stage. She had no choice, even though she felt like Cinderella at midnight. She wanted nothing more than to disappear and shake off the dread that had grabbed hold of her hard and wasn’t letting go.
The crowd parted like the Red Sea, and happy, joyous faces lined both sides. But Honey felt as if she were being led to slaughter—which was ridiculous. It was Andrea waiting up there for her. Andrea was her friend. Her mentor, in a way. This would be fine. She’d accept whatever the award was and catch her cab back to the bar and her apartment.
Then, when it was silent and she was alone, she could think about things. About where she’d gone so very wrong.
As if sensing her hesitation, Tiny didn’t let go of her until she was standing next to Andrea, and for that, she was grateful. She turned to face the room, but with a light shining directly in her eyes, she couldn’t see much.
“Congratulations.” Andrea gave her a big hug and handed her an envelope. “Hudson wanted you to open it right away,” she whispered with a big smile.
She looked down at the envelope. Honey Harrison was engraved in a beautiful gilded font, and the pale pink paper was thick, like a wedding invitation. With trembling fingers, she opened the envelope. Inside was check. Her heart turned over at the amount. An insane amount. This didn’t make sense.
Her forehead furrowed, and she bit her lip in confusion. Surely this was wrong. But then she saw the name on the check and suddenly understood. It wasn’t the kind of figure you give to an award recipient. It was the kind of figure you give to someone because you want them to disappear. To leave town and never be heard from again.
People were clapping loudly. Voices were raised. The sounds melted together and rang in her ear, making it hard for her to hear. Or maybe it was the champagne. She blinked rapidly, shielded her eyes, and almost immediately spied Hudson watching her a few feet away. His face was grim, his eyes so cold, they made her stomach turn. He looked as if he wanted to break her in two.
And then her world fell away.
Nash appeared beside him. He didn’t look angry. Or disappointed. Or hurt. There was no expression on his handsome face. Zero. It was as if he were made of stone and incapable of feeling. She looked back at the check. Was it only this morning she’d lain in his arms and said those three words that changed everything? Had he really said them back?
Could her world implode in less than twelve hours?
Pain hit her like a tidal wave, and with it, a wave of emotion. Her breath caught at the back of the throat and her eyes stung. She’d come so far—ended up in a place she never thought possible. She’d opened up her heart. Hell, she’d signed the damn thing and handed it over. Given her body and soul to this man.
And he was looking at her as if she didn’t exist.
I can fix this. She had to fix this.
“Nash,” she whispered, a cry meant only for him. But the words echoed throughout the room, amplified by the microphone a few inches away.
He flinched at the sound of her voice, as if it physically hurt him. He shook his head and stepped back.
Don’t walk away from me.
She didn’t know the anguished cry was ripped from her until he looked up at her with such loathing and dislike, she bit her lips so she couldn’t say another word. She thought he would leave and that would be the end of it. But he didn’t. He pushed his way past Hudson and strode toward the stage.
He didn’t stop until he stood below her, mere inches away. His anger so palpable, she felt it as surely as if he’d slapped her. For a few moments, he didn’t say a word. The entire room was deathly silent, the people in attendance aware that a very private drama was being played out in front of them, but unable to leave.
When he finally spoke, it was anticlimactic. “Did you use me to get close to the Blackwells so you could scam them for money?”
Oh God. Her stomach dropped and she thought she was going to faint. “No.” She shook her head. This had never been about money.
“Really.” His eyes narrowed. “Weren’t you arrested two years ago in Las Vegas for fraud?”
Her eyes flew to Hudson, and she remembered a conversation they’d had about Vegas. Her heart sank. She wouldn’t cry. Not now. She’d been through worse. Been h
urt worse.
“Nash, let me explain—”
“Were you arrested?”
“Yes,” she whispered, wincing when a few folks in the crowd voiced their surprise.
“Did you swindle a retired couple out of thirty thousand dollars in Florida?”
“I didn’t…” She looked down at the check. He wouldn’t believe her. Hell, she wouldn’t believe her if she were watching this train wreck. The fact was, her mother was to blame, but she’d taken the fall because it happened just after her mother had been diagnosed.
“You gonna answer that one?”
“Yes.” This time she answered more clearly and looked him straight in the eye. “But I paid that money back. I—”
“Did you work as a stripper in Shreveport? Did you get picked up for prostitution?” She saw the hurt in his eyes. The disbelief. The disgust.
That thing inside Honey, the thing that allowed her to survive all the crap she’d lived through, well, it rose up and rescued her. It grabbed her by the throat and wouldn’t let go. She knew she was done here. She knew he’d never believe the prostitution thing was a mistake. She’d been rounded up with a bunch of girls at the Gentlemen’s Club, but she’d never prostituted herself. Had she taken her clothes off for money? Hell, yeah. There’d been a time she’d been desperate for cash because her mother was ill and needed treatment for the cancer. She wasn’t ashamed of what she’d done. She was strong, and she’d survived. That was all that mattered.
“Yes,” she managed to say, her voice breaking when he took a step forward.
“Yes to what?” His voice was harsh, his attack unrelenting.
She lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, I took my clothes off for money. Yes, I was arrested for prostitution.”
Again, surprise and outrage from the gathered crowd reached her ears. She looked out at them. Saw the condemnation. The disbelief. And from some, the satisfaction. Hot tears stung the corners of her eyes, and it took everything she had to push them back. No way would she cry in front of these people—in front of Nash and Hudson.
You Own My Heart Page 16
