Ivory Tower

by Lace Daltyn

  “About what?”

  “Money.” Of all things.

  “Seriously? You two are the least money-conscious people I know.”

  “Were. Right up until he sold his company for millions.”

  “He—” Mags swallowed in a poor effort to hide her surprise. “So, let me get this straight. Your fiancé is a millionaire—”

  “Multi-millionaire.”

  “Multi-millionaire.” Mags drawled the word out in true southern style, even though she’d been born and bred in upstate New York. “And...you’re upset?”

  “Yes. I’m upset.”

  “Because your fiancé is rich?”

  “Yes. You, of all people, should understand that.”

  Mags sighed. “I do. I think you’re warped, but you know I do.”

  Jenna felt her shoulders relax. Finally, someone agreed with her.

  “But...”

  Comfy shoulders jumped right back into their knotted, tight position. “But, what? You hand me buts, after all these years of you putting up with me putting up with my mother?”

  “Yes. There’s a but.” Mags hugged Jenna. “I understand where you are coming from, my friend. But...you and Josh? You will never be your mother.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Jenna hated the plea in her voice.

  “Because I know you. And I know Josh. Neither of you will ever let that happen.”

  “I sure as hell hope you’re right.” Voices in the other room rose and Jenna knew she’d better get back in there. Hugging her best friend, Jenna returned to the den of she-lions, still mulling over the conversation. Could she and Josh rise above the attitude of her mother and her mother’s cronies? She wasn’t sure she had enough faith in herself to consider that possibility.

  For now, she plastered a smile on her face and picked up the first gift to unwrap. At least the gift registry had been all hers. She’d refused to allow her mother to shop with her and had steered clear of all the places her mother preferred to purchase from.

  The seventh gift, the one meant to be the next person to get married, was Mags’ gift. Her friend crossed her eyes from the corner where she watched and shook her head in an emphatic “not going to happen.”

  The eighth gift was a simple envelope. There’d been a couple of them prior to this, all addressed to Mrs. Josh Latham and all holding money or gift cards. This one was addressed simply to Jenna.

  Inside, she found a bridal shower card with the usual sentiment, signed “If you truly wish to change your destiny, leave the room. Now. Then open the enclosed envelope.”

  Jenna glanced up at Mags, thinking it was some sort of joke. There was no expectant look on her friend’s face, no “I’ve found you a way out.” In fact, Mags was focused on the list of gifts and givers she jotted down, not on the envelope Jenna had just opened.

  She glanced at her mother, whose irritated expression validated that the card wasn’t from her. Jenna read the card again and then, her heart pounding, excused herself.

  Safely alone in the bathroom, she opened the envelope. Her hands shook so hard, it took a couple tries to rip it open. They shook even harder as she read the missive.

  “If you feel like your life is running away from you...if your life is not your own, then grab hold of your destiny. Leave. Now. Go to the airport, to the Alaska Airlines Executive line and give them your name. Someone has contacted us on your behalf and we would like to help. We can help. But you must take the first step. You must decide to help yourself by walking out of this wedding shower and into a future filled with possibilities.

  Take the chance.

  Jenna sank onto the edge of the bathtub, her legs no longer willing to hold her up. What the hell was going on? Leave the shower? It had taken every ounce of willpower she owned to excuse herself for these few moments. She’d never be able to leave, even if she wanted to.

  She read the computer printed note again. Whoever sent it knew she’d be here tonight, at a wedding shower. They also seemed to know she had lost complete control of her life. Could Josh have sent this? He’s the only one she could think of, besides Mags, that she’d talked to about the frustrations of the past few weeks.

  A quiet knock on the door reminded Jenna she’d been in here a while.

  “Jenna?”

  Mags. With relief, Jenna opened the door and yanked her friend inside, locking the door behind her.

  “You all right?” Mags asked. “Geez, you look white as a ghost.”

  Jenna handed her the note. “Did you send this?”

  Mags read it and then looked up, her eyes wide. “It wasn’t me. Who would do something like this?”

  “Josh?”

  “Maybe, but it’s not really his style, is it?”

  “No,” Jenna said, thinking of that scorching kiss in front of her mother and how he'd wanted to confront her mother and have it out. “He’s generally more direct than that.”

  “So...what are you going to do?”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  Mags slapped the paper into Jenna’s hands. “I think you should go. Do it.”

  “I don’t even know who sent it.”

  “So what? Do what it says. Take the chance.” Mags grabbed her by both shoulders. “You are about to go from your mother’s house to your husband’s. You’ve never done anything strictly by yourself and for yourself, except for that little bit of college you didn’t finish because your father got sick.” She shook her gently. “Jenna, go. Grab the bull by the fucking horns and do this for you. Make a choice that has nothing to do with anyone else.”

  Jenna pulled back and hugged herself. “I don’t know. I need some time to think about it.”

  Mags blew out a breath. “Okay. I’ll try to buy you a little time, then.” She opened the door, but turned briefly back to Jenna. “Go for it, my friend. This may be your only chance.”

  Jenna locked the door behind Mags, trying to decide what to do. If she went, how long would she be gone? She was set to marry in a little over a week. She couldn’t ditch Josh. She needed to call him, ask his opinion. She reached for her cell phone, but it was tucked in her purse in her friend's bedroom. Damn.

  Sharp raps on the door startled Jenna and she knocked over some lotions on the counter when she jumped. “W-who’s there?”

  “Jenna, open this door.”

  She knew that hiss. Her mother had found her. Jenna leaned against the door, but didn’t open it.

  “You get back out here this minute. You’re embarrassing me.”

  Jenna glanced down at the envelope in her hands, then up at the closed door, and felt relief lift the edges of her mouth. Thank you, mother. Decision made, Jenna assured her she’d be out in moments, then listened until she heard her mother walk away.

  Slipping out of the bathroom, she retrieved her purse from the bedroom, then used as much stealth as she could muster to slide by the opening to the living room and into a kitchen bustling with servers who didn’t even know who she was. Mags looked up as she passed, caught her eye and, with a sly smile, nodded in the direction of the back door.

  In seconds, Jenna was outside and headed to her car which, thankfully, was not blocked in. She flew out of the apartment parking lot, eyes focused on the rearview mirror more than the driveway. She wouldn’t put it past her mother to see her car leave and chase it down.

  It wasn’t until she hit the freeway that she started to breath. And laugh. She lowered the window and loosened her grip on the steering wheel. Warm September evening air rushed in, sending her hair flying. It felt wonderful.

  Chapter Seven

  Jenna's good mood lasted until she parked in the long-term lot at the airport. It sunk in that she didn't know where she was going. Hell, she didn't even have any luggage to check. This was crazy. She needed to go back home, apologize to her mother, and resume her life. It wasn't so bad, was it?

  She opened her car door, but didn’t get out.

  This may be your only chance.

  Mags’ words
rumbled through her head and sliced the ribbon on her indecision. Slamming the car door, Jenna stalked toward the terminal. At the counter, she gave her name to the attendant, fully expecting the woman to look at her like she was crazy, proving that this was some wild hoax.

  Without even a glance at her computer, the airline employee greeted her. “You're right on time, Ms. Wilton.”

  Jenna's jaw hit the floor as the woman continued.

  “All we need is your identification and we’ll get you on your way.”

  Jenna let the words filter through to her conscious mind, then dug out her driver’s license as the woman waited patiently.

  “Thank you,” she said as Jenna handed it over. “I’ll just print your tickets and the concierge will escort you to the lounge where you can wait in comfort for your flight.”

  “Uh.” Jenna’s mind went blank. What do you say to a stranger sending you who knows where, that seemed in the know, when Jenna herself didn’t have a clue. “Thank you?”

  The printer spewed out tickets to a place Jenna had no clue about. The woman organized the paperwork, looked up, and smiled. “Your luggage has already been checked and will be waiting for you at your destination. You've been pre-cleared through security and will have priority boarding in about half an hour.” She motioned to a young man standing nearby. “John, will you escort Ms. Wilton to the first class lounge, please?”

  “Certainly,” the good-looking beach-bum-turned-airline-worker said. “If you'll come with me?”

  Jenna clutched the ticket and followed along like he was the Pied Piper, her head in a dense fog. They'd been expecting her. Even knew her name. This wasn't some colossal joke?

  In very little time, she was ensconced in the lounge with a cocktail she barely remembered ordering. She took a sip. Sweet. Not her normal style. But tasty. Come to think of it, normal was the red wine her mother tended to like. This was...fruity. And good. Jenna decided she liked it.

  With a glance around the room at others waiting for flights, Jenna’s situation reasserted itself. What the hell was happening? She stared down at the ticket folder, almost afraid to open it. Where was she being sent? And by whom?

  This was beyond crazy. She should leave. Go back home and take whatever her mother dished out. Better to hash out the known than the unknown.

  Just as Jenna opened the ticket to see her destination, her cell phone rang.

  ****

  “Hello?”

  Relief flooded Josh at the sound of Jenna's voice. He'd been beyond shocked to find out she left in the middle of her wedding shower. As soon as he'd made sense of her mother's shrieks, he disconnected and punched up Jenna's cell. Her mother indicated Jenna had vanished and no one had any idea where she'd gone.

  Crap. Could this be related to that damn application he'd sent in on a whim? He could feel his blood pounding, flushing his skin like red-hot needles filled with acid. Would they send her on some odyssey without telling him? Without even a note saying “hey, the shit’s about to hit the fan?” He’d been out of his mind to send in that app.

  It had been a day of selections for the wedding. Jenna's almost constant acquiescence to her mother's wishes had frustrated him beyond any measure he could tolerate. So when he'd stopped in a bar for a quick drink to relax that had turned into three, he'd pulled out the application in his pocket. It was folded in quarters and a bit rough around the edges, but Josh didn't care. He let the whiskey rid him of any inhibitions and filled it out.

  Never once thinking anything would come of it. He obviously didn’t think the whole thing through.

  Crap. Crap. Crap.

  “Jenna.” He breathed her name, thanking the heavens she answered. “Where are you?”

  “I—” Jenna started to laugh. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

  “That's not an answer,” he said, knowing he sounded snippy, but unable to stop himself. “I'm worried about you. We all are. Your mother called me.”

  “I bet she did. How is she?”

  “Furious is too mild a description. She said you weren’t answering your phone. Did you really run out on your wedding shower?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Care to tell me why?”

  “I'm...not sure I can.”

  “Well, try, damn it. Your mother just jumped down my throat, thinking I knew where you were and wouldn't tell her.”

  “I'm sorry, Josh. I really am. I needed to get out of there.”

  He raked his free hand through his hair, wondering how he could ask her about the application without really asking her. “Where did you go when you left?”

  “I'm at the airport.”

  “Why the hell—” Calm down, man. Josh tried. He really did. But this whole thing was starting to freak him out. He’d faced down board members and merger giants with less fear than he felt at this moment. Fear that trickled in a cold sweat down his back.

  “You're leaving town?”

  “Umm, I guess so.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I need some time, Josh.”

  “Time for what?”

  “Time to sort out my thoughts.”

  “Is this about the company I sold? Because I don’t give a damn about the money. I’ll give the shit away.”

  “No, Josh,” Jenna said. Her voice sounded tired. “It’s not about the money. Well, not exactly. The money is just a symptom of a lot of things that have been going wrong lately.”

  Fear skyrocketed into a bone-numbing dread that oozed out from his heart and permeated his body. “Then this is about us?”

  “No. Yes. Hell, I don't know. What I do know is that I've spent way too many years under my mother's microscope.”

  “You know I've always agreed with that assessment.”

  “I do. And it's one of the reasons I love you so much. You don't pressure me and you give me the time to work things out for myself.”

  He heard her deep breath through the phone before she continued. “I need time, Josh.”

  “Now?”

  She was silent and time stopped. Josh’s brain shut down as his heart flash-froze for several moments. “At least tell me where you are going.”

  Paper rustled on her end and Josh heard a distinct “huh” before she answered him. “I'm not sure I should.”

  “Well, you can't leave this close to our wedding without at least telling me where you'll be.”

  “I can't?”

  “Damn it. I have a right to know.”

  The heavy sigh was back. “Like I had a right to know you sold your company for millions of dollars?”

  Wow. He knew he had that coming, but it stung, nonetheless.

  “I’m sorry,” Jenna said. “I’m saying crazy stuff right now. Maybe you do have a right to know. And maybe this isn't fair. But you're going to have to trust me for a bit and give me some time.”

  This was fucking ridiculous. “What's sent you on this pilgrimage, Jenna? Your mother? Can’t you cut the apron strings from here? I’ll back you up one hundred percent. You know that.”

  “I do. I also know I need to do this alone. I need to find myself, Josh. Before I lose any chance to.”

  Yep. It was that damn application. He knew that now, and it was all his fault she was leaving. If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose her. Josh reined in his anger and frustration and tried to even out his voice, even though it killed him to do so. “All right. You go find yourself. Just be sure you come home to me, okay?”

  “Always,” she answered and Josh heard the smile return to her voice.

  “Hey, keep your cell phone with you. Please. Call me if you need anything. Or if you want me to join you, wherever you'll be. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

  “I will. I love you, Josh. Never doubt that.”

  “What do you want me to tell your mother?”

  “Tell her...you don't know where I am, but that I said I'd be back.”

  “I don't like this. Not at all.”

  “I know.
I'll call you when I can.”

  “You do that.”

  Josh held onto his cell phone for a long time after Jenna disconnected. When he finally set it down, his gut churned. He'd set a ball in motion, never expecting it to fly, and there was nothing he could do to stop it now.

  He only hoped Jenna's love for him wouldn't get buried in the process of whatever awakening she was about to go through.

  Chapter Eight

  Flying first class opened a whole new world to Jenna. It felt strange to be seated in a comfortable, roomy seat, sipping water with a slice of lemon in it, while everyone else boarded. She felt refreshed, while they had the glassy-eyed, stooped-shoulder look of already weary travelers. She should feel sorry for them. She'd been in the exact same situation.

  Settling deeper into the cushy seat, Jenna decided she'd feel sorry for them next time. Right now, this was way too delicious to allow anything to ruin it. Her mother, her wedding, everything faded as the flight attendant asked her if she’d like a drink. She ordered another fruity something. If this was how she'd be treated during the trip, she might just enjoy whatever adventure she'd embarked on.

  When her flight landed, full from a surprisingly good onboard dinner and a little tipsy from a very sweet piña colada, Jenna disembarked the plane ready for whatever would happen. Then stopped in her tracks so suddenly, the person behind bumped into her. “Oh, sorry,” Jenna said as the glaring co-passenger walked around her.

  No one seemed to be waiting for her.

  What do I do now?

  Jenna was in Las Vegas, a town she'd never visited before. And she had no idea why she'd been brought here or where she should go from here.

  The duh! moment passed when Jenna realized she was in a secure part of the airport. She walked out through security and scanned the small crowd there. The white board with “Jenna Wilton” scrawled on it gave her an immense sense of relief.

  “I'm Jenna Wilton.”

  The petite woman, dressed in a business suit, almost gushed. “Oh, I know. I recognize you from your picture.”

  My picture?

  “When I heard you were coming, I made sure I was first to volunteer for your airport pick up. I'm thrilled to meet you in person.”