“Don’t talk such nonsense, Thally,” she laughs. “You’re worse than your father.”
“I wonder why,” I say dryly, but she slows down at least a little for my sake. I lean back in my seat, take a deep breath, and adjust my sunglasses, which had slipped down my nose.
“You guys need to have a little more fun,” she says, amusement ripe in her voice.
“Oh, I’m not averse to having fun, but I’d like to have it in one piece.” I giggle.
“All right. Do you want to take the wheel?”
“You’d really let me drive your car?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
My mom drives a sports car—a Porsche. My fingers have always been itching to drive a cool, sleek car like this, but so far, she’s never let me. I won’t say no to her sudden offer. “Of course.”
“Fine.” She pulls over to the curb, gets out, and walks around to my side, while I crawl over into the driver’s seat. She gets in next to me. “Let’s go. And let’s see if you can stay under the speed limit with this baby.”
“Of course I will.” I grin and start the engine again. A light tap on the gas pedal makes the car shoot forward. “Wow, that’s a powerful engine,” I laugh and step a little harder on the pedal.
“Don’t be reckless, Thalia.” My whole name, not the usual diminutive. That means she is serious, but since she always acts like she’s in a race, I’m going to show her what that feels like.
I make a sharp turn, letting the tires squeal, stepping on it to get us to the mall in record time. There aren’t a lot of cars on the road, which is unusual but lucky, so I can test what her little speed demon can do.
We arrive a few minutes later. Mom gets out on shaky legs and braces herself on the open car door for a few moments. She grabs her stomach. “Goodness,” she breathes. “If I’d known this is how you feel as a passenger, I’d have slowed down a long time ago.”
“Are you feeling sick?” I ask.
She nods cautiously. “A little.”
I laugh softly and lock the doors, and then I take a small bottle of Coke from my purse. I didn’t drink it yesterday, so I hand it to her now. “It’s a bit warm, but maybe it’ll help.”
“Thank you, dear.” She takes a sip and makes a face. “That is disgusting. Who in their right mind would drink lukewarm Coke?”
I shrug. “When I bought it, it was still cold.”
“When did you buy it?”
“I don’t know. A few weeks ago,” I joke.
“Thalia!” she shouts.
I chuckle. “That was a joke, Mom. I bought it yesterday when we stopped at a gas station.”
She exhales loudly. “You really are your father’s daughter. He keeps fooling me like that.”
I grin as I come over and link arms with her, and we walk into the mall together. I’m looking forward to a shopping spree with my mom. A spontaneous thing like this happens way too rarely. After all, I spend most of the year in Miami now. I miss her often, but on the other hand, I’m glad to be so far away from home because then my dad can’t exert so much pressure on my career choice.
“Where do you want to go?” I ask her, ready to hit the stores.
“We’ll go to Darbie’s first, because she just received the new summer line, and she said she would reserve a few pieces for me to look at. Then I want to check out Tiffany’s and walk around and see what’s new. Maybe we could also have a bite to eat at one of the restaurants here?”
“I thought we’d all be having dinner together at home tonight. Aren’t Tyler and Aidan coming?” I’ve missed my older brothers a lot. You can never just chat on the phone with them; they dislike the act of telephoning. When you try, they’re monosyllabic, but when we’re all sitting together around the table, they talk and talk and can hardly be stopped. In person, they talk more than me, and that is saying something. Tyler’s three years older than me and Aidan five. My parents had planned to have their kids with a two-year gap, but I was an unplanned extra. But they never gave me the feeling I was merely an accident. Though I sometimes joke that I was.
“Yes, your brothers are coming later. Aidan’s bringing Darla.” Darla is my little niece, who’s almost a year old now. When I was here last summer, Stacy went into labor. I was there at the hospital the entire time to welcome Darla into this life. Sometimes I think I’m missing too much of their lives, being so far away most of the time, but on the other hand I wouldn’t want to switch to a local college.
“Is Stacy coming, too?” I ask.
“Probably. I’m not completely sure, though. She wasn’t feeling too well yesterday. We’ll just wait and see. There’s food enough in the house, so nobody will have to go hungry.” She smiles.
“I’m sure there is. And probably lots of cake, too, because our very own baking queen has taken care of that, hasn’t she?” I tease.
Mom blushes. “I don’t want to fall out of practice. And I’m not doing too much, am I?”
I smirk. “No, never. But Nathaniel had to eat three slices, whether he wanted to or not. He all but rolled out of the house, right?”
“That’s nonsense,” she objects. “He’s a tall man, and a little cake doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“Maybe he’s diabetic. You could have killed him,” I state in a sugary-sweet voice.
“Oh, I hope not!”
“I’m just joking, Mom. He’s fine, but I’m not sure he’ll brave your kitchen ever again. By the way, I wanted to ask you something.”
“What, honey?”
“Can he could stay at our house until Delsin and the rest of the gang arrive? Once they’re all here, they’ll stay at Delsin’s father’s house,” I explain, “but for now, I more or less forced him on Cami, and I don’t know if that’s really cool with him, since he doesn’t know her that well.”
“It’s not a problem. He can sleep in the guest room, and maybe he could help me with the garden. It’s a bit of a hassle, keeping such a large garden in shape on my own.”
“Mom, he’s a friend of mine, and he’s on vacation, so he doesn’t need to do yard work,” I protest. “He should be our guest.”
“But if he offers to help, I’m allowed to accept it, okay?”
I sigh. “Whatever. I’ll call him while you’re doing your shopping marathon,” I decide.
“All right.”
When we reach Darbie’s upscale ladies’ fashion store, Mom immediately starts gossiping with Darbie, while I sit in a comfy armchair and take my phone out. I send Nathaniel a text, inviting him to stay at our place until the others arrive and telling him when to be there.
Mom disappears into the changing room with a stack of clothing in her arms. I’m already bored with the thought of waiting for her in here. I rise and walk over to the changing room. “Mom, how long is this going to take?”
“Probably an hour at least,” she answers.
“Then I’m going to walk around and do a little window shopping. I’ll be back in an hour, okay?”
She sticks out her hand, which holds two hundred-dollar bills. “Buy yourself something nice, honey.”
I take the money from her hand. “Huh? Uh, thank you.”
“See you later.”
“Bye.” I leave Darbie’s boutique and make my way to the stores for a somewhat younger clientele. I did buy the outfit I’m currently wearing at Darbie’s, but that was an exception. Her lines are classy and sophisticated; and most of her clothes would make me look older or like a businesswoman.
“How about this one? That would suit you, Alexis.”
I look around the store I just stepped into. Am I hearing things? I don’t see Alexis Kingston anywhere, but … there’s Gavin.
Either turn around and run, or pretend you didn’t see him. I decide on the second option, marching on toward the women’s, ostensibly oblivious to my surroundings. I hope they’re preoccupied and don’t notice me.
“Thalia?” someone calls after me.
Linden. I would recognize his voice a
nywhere.
I don’t turn around but walk on.
“Wait up,” he calls after me.
No, I’m not going to wait. I walk on until I’ve reached the skirt section.
“Why are you ignoring me?” he asks.
When I raise my eyes, I flinch. Linden stands next to me, closer than I expected. I roll my eyes and focus on a rack of skirts, browsing intently.
“Would you please talk to me?”
“Why the hell should I?”
“Why won’t you?”
“Jesus, Linden, enough!” I hiss under my breath. “I want to be left in peace, can’t you see that?”
“But I want to talk!”
“Well, there’s a nice selection of mannequins in this store; I’m sure you can talk to any of them,” I say coldly.
He suddenly grabs my arm and pulls me toward the changing rooms.
“Let go of me or I swear I’m going to scream,” I threaten.
“You’re not going to scream,” he says with conviction, before pushing me into one of the changing rooms and closing the door behind us. Of course this particular store has a real little room for trying on clothes, instead of a simple stall like everywhere else.
I cross my arms in front of my chest and ignore him.
“We fired Pierce,” he says. “It was a unanimous decision after I told the others what he did.”
I merely shrug.
“I want you back.”
“Interesting.” I force myself to sound the absolute opposite of interested.
“I love you,” he murmurs, coming even closer in the tiny room.
I try to take a step backwards, but there’s a plywood wall at my back.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asks quietly.
I shake my head and try to move past him, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, he places his hands against the wall on both sides of my head.
“Let me go, Linden,” I demand, but my voice isn’t steady.
“I want to talk to you, even if that means we’ll be in here till the store closes.”
“I can still scream,” I answer hoarsely, “so please let me go now.” I can feel the tears coming on again, but I don’t want to let him see my weakness. He can’t know that I still feel awful because of him. I suffered for weeks, and then I finally decided to stop thinking about him, and now he seems to be following me all over Austin. How unfair can life get?
“I’ll leave you alone after you’ve given me the chance to talk to you,” he says earnestly. “Without you running away again.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s you. I can’t talk to you without thinking of the morning my heart was broken. I didn’t want to fall in love with you, I wanted to push you away, and now I want the same thing. You hurt me, Linden, and I can’t forget that.”
He suddenly takes my face in his hands.
“Don’t you dare kiss me,” I warn, but it’s already too late. Linden puts his lips on mine. It feels desperate, unyielding, the opposite of tender. I squeeze my eyes shut and press my lips together. I don’t want to return it. The tip of his tongue caresses my lower lip, but then I muster every ounce of reserve I possess and push him away from me. “Don’t do that ever again,” I say, as the tears start to well in my eyes.
“Thalia, please! Please give me another chance to make up for what happened. I never wanted to lose you!” I can hear the same despair in his voice.
“I can’t! I’ve been having nightmares for weeks, I barely sleep, and I’ve lost my appetite. Look at me. This is all your fault!” I finally take a step past him, trying to leave the damn changing room, but he grabs me and turns me around again.
“I love you, and I don’t want to lose you. Give me a chance to fight for you.”
Nathaniel’s advice to give Linden another chance suddenly echoes in my head. “I don’t want to cry anymore,” I breathe weakly, staring down at our feet.
“And I don’t want to miss you anymore. Please, Thalia.”
“Let me go,” I say again, a little less demanding.
“No.”
“Let me … ” My phone rings, interrupting the impasse. I take it out of my purse. “Yes, Mom?”
“Where are you, honey? I’m done here.”
“I’m … I’ll meet you at the coffee shop where we always go, okay?”
“Good idea. See you there, honey.”
I hang up. “I have to go.”
“What about my chance?”
“You aren’t getting one.” I turn away, open the door, and stumble out of the changing room.
“Thalia!”
I shake my head wildly and walk away. I’m practically running toward the exit. What a horrible day! This is my private hell on earth.
I hasten to meet my mom at the coffee shop. I spot her from afar, so I wipe away my tears before I enter the place.
“There you are.” She smiles as I sit down across from her, but then that smile slowly dies on her lips. “Have you seen a ghost?”
“Something like that,” I sigh and stare at the menu without seeing anything.
“I’ve already ordered a latte for you, Thally … Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“No.”
Another voice, from behind me, says, “Thalia, why won’t you talk to me?”
I close my eyes. “Oh no.”
“Who are you?” my mom interrupts.
“My name is Linden. I’m her boyfriend—”
“Ex-boyfriend. He’s my ex-boyfriend, Mom,” I correct him icily.
“Oh,” Mom says, “then I think you better leave now, lest I forget my manners, mister.”
“I only want to talk to your daughter briefly.”
“But she obviously doesn’t want to talk to you,” she says in a friendly tone that is still clearly a threat. “Either you leave us alone now, or I’m going to call the police, which would probably be bad for your public image as everybody’s darling.”
“It’s okay, Mom.” I look up at Linden. “Tomorrow after work I can spare a little time to talk, but only if you leave right now.”
Linden gives me a small smile, says goodbye, and walks away.
“Why did you give in?” my mother asks, puzzled.
“He wouldn’t have left. But I’ll avoid him from now on. Dad can do the meetings for the campaign, and I’ll just do the work without meeting with the band,” I explain, less to my mom and more to convince myself that that is a viable plan.
“You know you just agreed to meet him tomorrow, don’t you?”
“Yes, but Nate’s picking me up again, and I’ll tell him to come to the underground parking garage, so I won’t run into Linden. That’s my best shot.”
She nods, our coffees are served right at that moment. We sip them in silence. This second encounter has really worn me out. Here I thought the first was a punch to the gut, but no, this one was far worse.
***
My brothers don’t show up for dinner. I guess they had more pressing things to do. It makes me a little sad because I was looking forward to seeing my little niece. Maybe I can drive over to Aidan’s over the weekend. I could ask Tyler to come, too, and we could finally all be together again for a while.
On top of that, Nathaniel decided to stay at Cami’s after Buck offered him a summer job helping out on the farm. I’m going to have to pick up my car there tomorrow. If he needs to go anywhere, he can borrow Buck’s truck, and I’ll have my own ride again. Mom and Dad won’t let me use their cars, which I actually understand, because both vehicles are incredibly expensive.
I’m lying in bed flipping through the TV channels, but everything bores me. It seems like a conspiracy, a bunch of cheesy romances on every channels. Finally, I get up and fetch a horror flick from the shelf. At least that won’t make me cry.
I put it in the DVR and snuggle back into bed. The film starts, and after only a few minutes, I’m starting to get bored again. Craptastic!
With a si
gh, I bury my head in the pillow and close my eyes, while the protagonist screams her head off. “Oh, shut up,” I grumble and switch off the TV. I should just go to sleep.
Chapter 16
For more than a week, I don’t see any of my friends, because I’ve been working my ass off to get this stupid Downstair Alley campaign off the ground. We created several comprehensive proposals, and today I have to present them to Linden, his bandmates, and his new manager. My dad has another, more pressing appointment, so I can’t back out anymore. I dodged all Linden’s attempts at pinning me down for that talk I promised him at the mall, but now I’m going to have to face him at last.
I set up the presentation aided by the two experienced marketing guys I’ve been working with.
“When are you expecting the clients?” Pete, one of the two slick experts, asks.
“Around five,” I reply, “but you can go home as soon as we’re done setting everything up. You’ve been here all day.”
“Thanks, Miss Leroux.”
“Sure thing.” I look at Gregory, who’s struggling with getting the daylight projector to work. Maybe he’s less of an expert in some ways. “But, Greg, if you could stay for the presentation, that would be awesome.”
He smiles at me. “Of course I will, Miss Leroux.”
“Thank you, Greg. And how many times do I need to tell both of you to call me Thalia?”
They nod at me with their non-committal smiles.
A few minutes later, we’ve gotten everything set up. Pete says goodbye and leaves. “Greg, do you think you could do me a favor and lead the presentation? I’m not very good at speaking in front of a bunch of people.”
“Gladly, Thalia.”
I find it strange how eagerly he does everything I ask of him. I would hate having my boss’s kid ordering me around. He’s probably scared I’ll Dad something bad about his morale. “Thanks a lot.”
“You don’t want to do it because he’s your ex-boyfriend, right?” Greg asks.
I shake my head. “It really is because I’m not great at presentations.”
“Okay.”
We sit down and wait for five. As the minutes pass, there is no trace or word of Downstair Alley. We’re still sitting there, waiting, at six p.m. By seven, my patience has run out.
Linden: Rocking Pleasure: New Adult College Romance (Coral Gables Series Book 3) Page 26
