Charlotte stood, looking affronted. “I was just making polite conversation.” She huffed and walked away.
“Who was that girl you stopped from falling?” Joe asked. “Oh, wait, is she the decorator?”
Nodding, Christopher didn’t trust himself to talk about Ari just yet. The unexpected encounter with her had his heart bruising all over again.
“You were right—she is hot!” He waggled his eyebrows.
Christopher grimaced. “Yeah, we’re not exactly dating anymore.”
“You’re nuts, man. If I had a girl in my life anywhere near that good-looking, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight.”
Christopher bristled a little at Joe’s comment. “She is pretty, but she is also talented, smart and kind. Looks aren’t everything, Joe.” Just then he realized he’d made a mistake—coming off as way too defensive. Not to mention, he’d snapped at his friend.
“Sorry, Flemming. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Joe popped a fry into his mouth. “If she is all those things you say she is, why is she sitting over there cryin’ her eyes out, while you’re over here reciting her every virtue?”
Christopher hadn’t realized that from Joe’s vantage point, he had a clear view of Ari and her boss. “She’s crying?”
“Yeah, from the minute she sat down.”
Christopher swallowed hard and dropped his gaze to the food on his plate, his appetite gone. More than anything, he wanted to take Arianna in his arms and kiss away every tear, but the way things were between them now prevented him from even carrying on a friendly conversation with her. He had hurt her too badly, and she’d made it clear things were over between them.
Jolted from his thoughts, he realized Joe was still talking. “What happened with you two? I thought you liked her. You seemed great after your trip to Denver together.”
He couldn’t exactly open up to Joe, or anyone, for that matter. He was destined to carry his burden alone. “I really don’t want to talk about it right now, if that’s okay.”
Joe gave him a quick punch on the arm. “I’m here for you, man, if you ever do want to talk.”
“Thanks. Any chance we could get out of here before she’s finished eating? I don’t wish to be the cause of more tears.”
“Not a problem.” Joe shoved his remaining fries into his mouth.
Seeing Arianna reminded Christopher of how close he’d been to finding the device. But then ruined any possibility by his behavior toward her. Now, not only was he worlds away from accessing the machine, but Ari was spending most of her time in the same place the devilish device was housed. The irony rankled, and the foreboding nearly choked him.
Chapter Thirty
Arianna managed to settle into a routine, with Christopher safely tucked into a dark corner of her heart. For a while she’d feared she would never fully recover. The ache in her chest began to dull, but still swelled when she allowed him entrance to her dreams. For now, she needed to focus on work. Days and weeks slowly passed as the Somers’ house began to look more and more complete.
Decorating a house this size was a massive undertaking—especially for one person. When decisions were made, orders were then placed, and deliveries waited upon—some taking up to twelve weeks. That’s what happens when you must have the very best. Ari let out a sigh. When everything came together in one room, there were still many more yet to finish. It’s good that I love my job, she thought.
Another Friday arrived. It had a nasty habit of showing up on a weekly basis.
“Ugh—but I do hate Fridays.” Arianna groaned as she stirred brown sugar into a bowl of oatmeal. “Friday—my killjoy, thanks to Mr. Somers and our weekly meetings.”
Friday used to kick off the weekend—no work, all play. Now it meant a meeting with a task-master, not to mention the beginning of a lonely weekend without much to do—no Christopher.
She needed friends. The sad realization hit that any new friends she made at this point would be temporary, as she didn’t plan to stay in Pueblo any longer than necessary.
It had been several weeks since anyone had accompanied Mr. Somers to Pueblo. Today, however, the whole Somers family arrived. Arianna watched each of them carefully, trying to discern if there had been something she hadn’t noticed—a clue that would connect Christopher to them.
Besides their British accents, she didn’t know what else it could be. Mrs. Somers, Sarah, and Josh all seemed sad and so standoffish, or maybe just shy, but Christopher was captivating and full of life. She reflected back to Denver and how he and Maggie’s husband, Jason, had hit it off so easily. As if they’d known each other for years. Then, dancing at the Palace Arms, where Christopher had seemed to relish the attention they’d received. He hadn’t been an attention seeker, but he’d never shied away from it as these people did. He was just so—
She had to cut herself off before she thought the word “perfect.” He wasn’t perfect or they’d still be together. She removed the scowl from her face and plastered on a smile.
Sarah carried a basket of bedroom supplies—robes, slippers, and an ancient-looking cardigan. Arianna followed her up the stairs to her room. The furniture had yet to arrive, but there would be plenty of space in the closet drawers to store her items.
Arianna decided if she were ever going to approach Sarah, it was now.
“Hello, Sarah.” She kept her voice low so she wouldn’t startle her. Sarah’s lips tugged up into a timid smile. “Do you like your room?”
“Very much,” Sarah said softly.
Relieved to hear her speak, Arianna kept the conversation going—casually, at first. “You will have plenty of room for your clothing in this huge closet.” Ari opened the door to reveal an area as big as her own entire bedroom. “You have ample shelf space.” She pointed to the neatly organized banks of shelving and drawers. “As well as plenty of hanger rods for your dresses and, well, everything. It’s an incredible closet.”
A shadow crossed Sarah’s face as she scanned the empty storeroom. “I once had such beautiful gow—”
Arianna nodded at Sarah, encouraging her to go on. “You had beautiful gowns?”
Sarah’s face drained to a chalky white. “I’m sorry. I do not know why I said that. The closet is very nice. I look forward to filling it.” Her wobbly voice was barely a whisper.
Arianna didn’t know what to make of it, but she left the area and motioned to a spot in the middle of the room. “And your bed will go here, with night stands on both sides. That’s where you can keep things like your journal—but, of course, you already know that.” She laughed, but it felt strained. She sucked in a nervous breath. It was time to fess up. “I’m glad you are here, actually. I have a bit of a confession to make.” Sarah’s gaze, which had been anywhere but on Ari, finally met hers with a questioning look. Her eyes were a startling blue Ari had never noticed before. Probably because she was always examining her feet.
“You see, before I knew the journal belonged to you, and when I was bored waiting for a delivery, I read some of the pages.” She took a breath before letting the rest of the words tumble out. “I didn’t mean to pry. I honestly thought it was a keepsake from years, or maybe decades ago.” She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants.
Sarah’s eyebrows drew together, and she clamped her teeth shut. She looked horrified. Or scared.
“I am really sorry. I know it was wrong.” Arianna closed the gap between them and lowered her voice. “Sarah, some of the things you have written are frightening.”
Sarah’s expression didn’t change.
Arianna plowed on. “Are you and your mother and brother in danger?” There, she’d said it.
Sarah’s eyes grew misty, and her face relaxed a bit. “I wish you had not read my journal. It is meant to be personal.”
“I know, and I am truly sorry. But I did it and I can’t stop thinking about some of the passages. Does your father mistreat you?”
Sarah looked down. An awkward silence filled the space around them. Finally
, she spoke. “I cannot…” she twisted her hands together. “This is really not your concern, Miss Miller.”
“Sarah, please call me Ari. I just want to help you—if you are in any sort of danger. Can I alert the authorities for you?”
“No! Please do not tell anyone else what you have read. Swear to me. You cannot—you must not!” The urgency in Sarah’s voice screamed at Arianna.
“Okay, I promise, but who will help you, then?”
“My brother has promised to help us, and I believe he will.”
“Your brother is just a kid. What is he, fifteen or sixteen? How can he help you?”
Just then Sarah’s eyes grew wide, and her face lost even more color as she looked beyond Arianna. “Hello, Father. Miss Miller was just showing me my bed chamber. It is quite lovely; do you not agree?”
Mr. Somers eyed Arianna with a suspicious glare, then curtly nodded his approval of the room.
Ari let out a silent breath and continued with the tour as if nothing had passed between them. Mr. Somers never left them alone again.
Hours later, exhausted from the long day she had put in, Arianna drove home, put on her sweats and grabbed a book. She wanted to relax, but thoughts of her conversation with Sarah nagged at her.
She’d promised not to tell the authorities, and she wouldn’t. The fear in Sarah’s eyes ensured that Ari would keep that promise. She didn’t know what she’d say, anyway. She had no proof of abuse. None of them had ever appeared to be harmed physically—at least the few times she had seen them.
Thoughts like these, and the whole situation in general, badgered her throughout the evening and into the night. She finally dropped off to sleep in the wee hours, just before the sun came up.
Ari needed to clear her mind the next morning. The best way to accomplish that was a good run. She pulled on her Nikes, determined to shake off the worries of the day before. She enjoyed running and did it as often as her busy schedule permitted. It had been especially therapeutic in college, after her parents and brother had died.
Puffy, white clouds filled the sky as the sun slowly ascended. She breathed in the fragrance of summer blooms. It was a perfect morning to run. Her thoughts, however, returned to the same questions she’d fought with the previous evening—she still had no answers.
What would Christopher do, she wondered. After all, he was a police officer. Though he might think she had some kind of agenda if she asked him. He’d read the journal, too, so it wouldn’t be as if she were divulging Sarah’s secret to somebody new. An internal debate began.
She rounded the corner for the last mile of her run. Lost in thought, she barely noticed a car speeding toward her. What in the world? She leaped onto the grass beside her to keep from getting hit. Her insides jittered at the near miss. Was it a drunk driver? Squinting into the sun, she watched the car make a U-turn and drive toward her again, this time at a slower pace. She scrambled to the residence nearest her. The car slowed as it approached. Mr. Somers. She stood on wobbly legs and glared at him but kept a safe distance.
“Consider that your last warning,” his deep voice rumbled out to her. A chill ran down her spine. She looked around for witnesses; anyone who saw his obvious attempt to kill, or at least, scare her. No one.
“Seriously? You just tried to hit me with your car!!” She stammered. “How did you even know where to find me?”
Mr. Somers waved her questions away as if they were flies needing swatting. “I asked you to stay away from Sarah. I’ll not put up with your insubordination!”
“I’m calling the police!” She reached for her phone. Oh, no! Her running pants didn’t have pockets. Until now, she’d never felt the need to bring her phone on a jog with her.
The jerk was still talking. “And tell them what, exactly? I simply swerved to spare the life of that dog over there.” He pointed to a stray wandering down the road. “It will be my word against yours. And, Miss Miller, if I’d wanted to hit you, I would have.”
Ari’s heartbeat sped to double time. She had difficulty breathing.
“As I said, that was your final warning. So, go ahead, make your call. I’m certain the Pueblo police can be bought, just like any other.”
He had her sitting between a boulder and brick wall. With no phone, she had no leverage. She thought of a few choice phrases to throw his way. He was a homicidal maniac! Instead, she turned and sprinted for home.
Had he tried to hit her, or not? Her foggy brain was having difficulty processing the whole situation. She should call the police and at least report it, shouldn’t she? But if he had just been scaring her, would that be a criminal offense, or just a waste of time for the police? She at least needed to tell Tasha and Mr. Johnson. She needed out of this project and away from Mr. Somers.
Once home, she found her phone and began dialing. Wait. Did she really want to be pulled off this once-in-a-lifetime project because the owner scared her? She paused and deliberated. Shaking her head, she put her phone on the table. She’d endured a lot of things in her life. Mr. Somers and his enormous ego would not cow her.
If her mind had been unclear before she ran, it was completely muddled now. She took a shower. That didn’t help. She wished Maggie or Tasha were with her. Then she could talk this whole situation out with someone. There was still Christopher. He was a cop, after all. She could ask his advice about Sarah and Mr. Somers’ threat, but…
Chapter Thirty-One
Against her better judgment, she picked up her cell phone. She would just text him. That way, if he didn’t want to see her, he could easily ignore it.
Christopher, it’s Ari—not urgent, but I have some things I could use your advice on. Her finger shook as she pushed the send button.
She waited for a return text. Nothing. Well, she guessed that was her answer. Disappointment hung over her like a shroud. She shouldn’t have texted him. Now she just felt foolish for reaching out. He was probably spending his day off with that wretched woman Charlotte. She flung herself onto the sofa and located her book. She’d lose herself in a pretend romance, where the hero and heroine always found true love.
An hour later her doorbell rang. “Christopher!” She didn’t know why his presence on her doorstep surprised her so, his methods were anything but conventional.
“Ari.” He shifted his weight from leg to leg, clearly anxious. “Are you all right? I was riding—just brushing down my horse at the stables when I saw your text. Sorry it took me so long to get here.” He seemed out of breath.
“I didn’t mean for you to drop what you were doing and come over. You could have just texted me back.”
“I tried. Service is unreliable at the stables.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “And, well, I was heading home anyway. I didn’t know how long ago you’d sent it. I worried…” His eyes scanned over her again. “Are you well, then?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” Now she was embarrassed he’d made the trip just to find her alive and in one piece.
His tense shoulders relaxed. “That’s a relief. What do you need to talk about?”
Confusion nearly made her forget why she’d texted him in the first place. Having him in her apartment brought back a flurry of memories—mostly good. However, the last one—their argument at the Somers’—had cut deeply. An open wound, still bleeding.
She snapped to attention and invited him in. Sarah was more important than her aching heart, right now. “Have a seat. I need some advice, and you’re the only one familiar with the situation.” His forehead creased and his brows furrowed, but he did as she said, sitting on the sofa. Noting his confusion, she added, “Since you read that old journal way back when I first arrived. Remember?” She kept her voice cool—free of emotion. She could do this. She must—for Sarah.
He nodded, and she saw a mix of curiosity and wariness creep into his eyes.
She filled him in on the conversation she’d had with Sarah Somers the day before. “And the strangest part is that Sarah is depending on her brother, Josh, t
o help them. He’s only a kid.” Her voice rose as she spoke.
“Did she say that?” His head tilted, and he narrowed his eyes.
“Say what?”
“That she is depending on Josh for help.”
“Yes, I believe she did. Well she just said ‘her brother,’ but she only has one. So, what would you suggest I do?”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “I don’t think you should do anything about Sarah—at least not yet. You have no proof beyond a few entries from a journal—a journal you no longer possess. Reporting abuse will, most likely, cause more problems than it will help. Can you keep speaking with her and perhaps become her friend by earning her trust?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. There’s more.” She shifted uncomfortably, then told him about Mr. Somers’ visit that morning.
“Are you telling me he tried to hit you with his car?” Anger sparked in his eyes.
She shrugged, unsure. It had seemed like Mr. Somers had aimed for her, but thinking about it now, she couldn’t be certain. “I think he was trying to scare me. I doubt he’d do anything to slow the progress of his house. Getting a new designer at this point would cause a huge delay.”
He sprang off the couch and paced the room, moving like a caged animal needing to be let loose. She watched, wondering where his thoughts were taking him.
Finally, he sat down next to her. “Arianna, I know you are disappointed in me for how things have passed between us, and if I could, I would change that.”
“You could.” She said it so softly she didn’t think he heard her.
He paused and shook his head, clearly not wanting to repeat the argument they’d had weeks before that had ended so badly. “But for now, please just trust me. Promise me you will keep your distance from that whole family. Do only what Mr. Somers asks of you at work, and if you ever see him in this neighborhood again, call me immediately.”
Time Twist Page 14
