“He was…is. My marriage will be in name only. It’s just a business arrangement. Nothing more.”
“Did you tell Calder that?” I say in a tight voice.
A pause. “Not yet.”
“Well, that’s a damned shitty way for him to find out.”
“I feel terrible about that. I’ll apologize to him as soon as I get back.”
“Give me his number. I’ll do it.” I need to do something.
“No, this is my fault. I will go see him and apologize in person.”
“I doubt that’ll do much good,” I snap, feeling personally guilty for how much today had to have hurt him, especially after what happened between us in the garden. My emotions are so fucking wrapped up in Celeste’s drama…to the point I’ve only made things worse. I should be glad that Calder probably despises Celeste now. And thrilled that he left without saying a word, but all I can think about is how he just got hammered with one of the worst lies ever. Betrayal.
“All I can do is try, Cass.”
At least she sounds regretful and upset. I expel a frustrated sigh. “Your fiancé seems pretty happy right now.” As soon as I say that, it occurs to me that Ben did hint at his interest. He’d said, “You’re making me reconsider.” Shit, and here I thought he was talking about which political party he was supporting. “I don’t think Ben sees this marriage arrangement the way you do, Celeste.”
“Wait…Ben?”
My stomach bottoms out at the surprise in her voice. “You were supposed to marry Jake?”
“Well, yeah…I mean, he’s liked me since we were teens. I always assumed it would be Jake,” she says slowly, then heaves a sigh. “I didn’t mention it, because I didn’t expect Jake to be there tonight. He hates politics.”
I can’t believe anyone would consider a sham marriage in modern times, but I’m almost done with this craziness, so what do I care. The fact that Ben is a part of this drops my opinion of him considerably. “What time are you getting back? I don’t think I can deal with the controlling men around here much longer. I quietly told Phillip off earlier, but I came so close to loudly cursing him out.”
“What did he say to you?” Celeste asks, her voice suddenly tense.
“Nothing. He just tried to shut down Calder becoming your bodyguard. He was worse about it than your father. What the heck is going on with him?”
“Phillip has his own agenda,” she says quietly, then perks up. “Did you really tell him off?”
“I told him to mind his own business and that I can take care of my own.”
Celeste giggles as if she can’t stop herself. “That’s fantastic. I’m sure he was pissed.”
I shrug, then remember she can’t see me. “I don’t care. By the way, I tried, but your father nixed the idea for Calder as your bodyguard.”
“I’m not surprised,” Celeste grumbles.
“Okay, so back to me getting back to my own life. When can I meet you to hand off your car? I don’t think my nerves can take much more.”
“I just now got here. I’m the last appointment of the day and they’ve stayed open late for me. Honestly, I probably won’t be back until around midnight, so I need you to continue to be me until then.”
“Midnight?” I hiss quietly into the phone. Where did she go? Timbuktu? “I can’t stay here another minute. I guess I can just leave after the cocktail is over and drive around until you call me.”
“No, I need you to keep being me, Cass. That means you’ll need to continue to be present and seen with my family. I’ll text you where to meet me once I get back to town.”
“But Ben—”
“I doubt Ben will try anything tonight—he’s never tried with me. Hmmm, maybe he wants his dad to bankroll his practice. Anyway, if he does try to get affectionate, just claim a horrible headache and escape to my room.”
“I thought I had to be seen,” I say, unable to keep the annoyance out of my comment.
“You will be. Trust me. Beth will know if you’re there or not. So please say you’ll stay a bit longer. I just need to make it through tonight.”
“Fine,” I say on a sigh, telling myself that I’m almost done.
“See you later,” she says before promptly hanging up.
As soon as I end the call, I hear deep voices in the foyer. I turn off the light in the bathroom and crack the door.
Jake is standing there talking to his father. He’s obviously angry by the way he’s gesturing. “You know I’ve always wanted her—”
His father rumbles.
“Bullshit, Dad—”
Phillips says something harsh in a low tone I can’t make out.
Jake lowers his voice, but then he gets angry again and I catch the tail end of it. “—lied to me!”
Phillip gets in his son’s face, his own red with anger. I strain to hear and just catch his last few words. “—riding on this.”
“I’ll going to kill that little prick,” Jake grits out.
“Never threaten family, Jake,” Phillip snaps in an angry tone, then narrows his gaze. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Fuck this shit! I’m out of here.”
When Jake leaves, I quietly close the door. I can only assume they were talking about Celeste and Ben’s engagement. There was definitely a battle of wills going on.
After a full minute, I leave the bathroom, but then pause when I step into the empty foyer. Phillip is leaning against the wall near the entryway, his arms crossed as if waiting.
He watches me move my keys out of the way as I slip my phone into my small clutch. Lifting his eyes back to my face, his gaze narrows to slits. “Don’t even think about it. You’re going back in there and putting on a happy face the rest of the night.”
I drop my keys beside my phone and snap my purse closed with a decisive click. He must think I planned to leave. I hold his gaze with a steady one. “I’ll do what I please, Phillip. Stop trying to order me around.” As I start to pass him, I call lightly over my shoulder, “Otherwise, I might just become your worst nightmare.”
His scotch-warmed breath brushes next to my ear, his words a harsh grate. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect what’s mine, Celeste. Don’t force me to show you how ruthless I can be.”
Even though the room is warm, a chill of worry slides through me, prickling my skin. I pick up my pace and move as far away from Phillip as fast as I can.
I don’t see Beth in the main room, so I head straight for Ben. It’s ironic that he’s the only person I feel comfortable speaking with, but it’s the truth. The moment I reach his side, he clasps my shoulders, his gaze concerned. “Are you okay?”
I nod and rub my forehead. “My head is killing me. If it’s okay with you, I’m going to go upstairs and lie down.”
“Do you want me to walk you up?”
I shake my head. “No, I’ll be fine. You stay down here and be my proxy host.”
When he smiles at my comment, I can’t help but wonder why he’s chosen a marriage of convenience. “Why would you lock yourself in like this, Ben?”
He releases me to push a strand of hair back from my face. “Because you’re fun when you let yourself go.” Running his finger down the side of my face, he continues, “And because you need a buffer so you can continue to do so.”
Ben’s sentiment is so sweet, my eyes mist. Celeste’s life freaking sucks, but at least she’ll have Ben’s support. I can tell by the way he’s looking at me that he’s in love with her. I hope she treats him with equal respect and kindness.
But just in case she doesn’t, he’ll at least hear it from me. Leaning close, I press a light kiss on his jaw and whisper in his ear, “Thank you for being a true knight.”
When I leave the main room, I’m annoyed that Marco appears to be following me. Now he’s going to do his job? Screw that. “You can stay down here,” I say curtly, waving him off.
He shakes his head. “I need to follow you up.”
“Since when?”
; When he doesn’t answer, I clench my jaw and walk upstairs, my shadow trailing behind me.
The second I walk into Celeste’s bedroom, a true headache pounds behind my eyes. Locking the door, I immediately change out of the dress and heels. I can’t get her stuff off fast enough, but once I’m naked, I don’t have a choice, I have to choose something else to put on, so I dig through her closet past all the preppy stuff with patterns and bright colors until I find a lavender long-sleeved button down, a faded blue jean skirt and soft black leather ankle boots.
The outfit is as far from Celeste’s normal wardrobe as I can get and more like me. I feel so much better once I’m dressed.
I take off her bracelets and the pearl earrings. Then I remove her necklace, but when I start to set it down on her dresser the key catches my attention.
I hesitate one second before I turn toward her nightstand and take out the diary.
Sitting on her bed, I flip to the very beginning. At first Celeste’s entries are sparse.
September 7, 1998
I got a pony today! I guess I’d better learn how to ride.
July 4, 1999
Best 4th of July fireworks EVER! We went to the beach with the Hemmings. Jake won’t stop pulling my hair. Ugh!
November 29, 1999
The Hemmings came to our Thanksgiving dinner. Ben is quiet. Jake is such a boy!
April 3, 2002
Mom got very sick and had to go to the hospital last week. She’s home now but says she has lupus, which basically means she can get weak very easily. I don’t want anything to happen to her.
January 2003
School. Friends. Shopping. Boys! Yeah, I suck at keeping up with this.
November 12, 2003
Mom is spending more time in her room. Between schoolwork, cheering practice, and games I’m lucky if I see her once a week. I miss her. Lizzy has decided she wants to be called Beth. I’ll always think of her as Little Lizzy. (LL for short).
July 3, 2004
We’re supposed to spend 4th of July week with the Hemmings at their vacation home.
July 4 – 11, 2005
I stare at the blank page and wonder why she bothered to start an entry but never filled it in. When I turn the page, the next entry is dated a whole year later, but that’s when Celeste’s writing turns into long poetic prose, full of metaphors talking about safe hidden passages, masks of happy faces, green greed and black deception. It’s the kind of angst-y, self-introspection that seems far deeper than the Celeste I know…and yet only she can understand its meaning. Curious, I thumb forward through monthly entries now, and the poetic pattern continues. She only breaks it once, which is the entry I looked up earlier, September 23, 2006, where she wrote: Does she realize that I helped her?
I flip to the current year and read through several months. Same angst-y, introspective writing. She seems so…alone. I keep reading, trying to understand.
When a yawn overtakes me, I lean back on her pillow and close my eyes. A couple minutes won’t hurt and might help my head. Just when I’m on the verge of falling asleep and in that zoned-out-almost-asleep state, I hear knocking and a man call Celeste’s name. Grunting, I ignore it and roll over.
I jerk awake and groggily glance at the clock in surprise. I’d slept for two hours. At least I’m that much closer to freedom. Sighing, I pick up Celeste’s diary wondering if she’d said anything about the switch we made. Just as I turn to the last page, a knock sounds on my door and Beth calls, “Celeste...did you get my text?” The doorknob turns but the lock holds. “Let me in.”
“Just a minute.” I grab the phone from my purse and take a picture of the last entry, then email it to myself to read later. For some reason I can’t fathom, I want to understand what prompted Celeste to allow the one person she knew despised her into the most intimate part of her life.
Once I put the diary back in its hiding spot, I scroll through the most recent text from Beth to catch up with what I missed. It’s the first time Celeste replied to someone else as herself. Or is it?
Out of curiosity, I look under the deleted texts to see what else I might’ve missed before she cleared it from the trash folder. The last thing I expect to see is a text conversation from a couple hours ago, right after I left the party. It’s between Celeste and someone she has listed in her phone only as Deceiver. The name alone raises my eyebrows, but the tone of the texts alarm me more.
C: I’m done letting you control me. I’m taking care of it.
Deceiver: Don’t threaten my legacy. Every part of you, inside and out, belongs to me.
C: Not any more.
Deceiver: We’ll discuss this later.
C: You can’t stop me.
A half hour passes between texts.
Deceiver: When did you leave? Where the fuck are you? You don’t want to find out how ugly I can be.
C: I’d rather die than let you touch me EVER again.
Deceiver: You’re very brave behind these texts. When I find you, you’ll change your tune.
C: I hate the person I became because of you, you sick perverted bastard!
“Celeste!” Beth rattles the door handle.
Frustrated with Beth’s impatience, I quickly copy the entire text conversation and email it to myself to read over again later, then delete the sent mail and the photo I’d taken from the trash folder. Celeste was probably too upset to realize she hadn’t permanently deleted the texts, but she might remember and fix her error before I have a chance to read the rest. Who was Celeste talking to? By the tone, it’s obviously a man. Of course my mind immediately flips through the men in her life: Her father, Marco, Phillip, Jake, Ben, and Calder.
“Celeste?”
“Just a sec,” I call out and flip to the beginning of the text conversation Celeste had with her sister, apparently between her texts with the mystery guy.
Beth: Party obligation is over. All guests are now gone. Before you become an old married woman, go out with me tonight. Come see me in an hour and a half.
C: Where are we going?
Beth: I’ll tell you once we get there. Come to my room the back way.
C: Okay
Right after that text is one from Celeste to me.
C: Beth wants you to go out with her. I know I told you to stay there, but you should go. You’ll still be with a Carver. Just enjoy getting out of the fishbowl.
As much as I want to ask her about the other text conversation I wasn’t supposed to see, I text Celeste back.
Me: Text me when you get into town.
“Celeste!” Followed by a set of three knocks in a row.
Ugh. I open my door and snort at Beth. “Impatient much. I was changing clothes.”
“You took long enough,” Beth says, breezing into my room. Once she shuts my door, she nods toward the bathroom and lowers her voice to a whisper. “Marco’s still out there. We’ll have to go this way. I don’t want to miss the beginning. It’s always the best part.”
I slip my phone, the ID and a bit of cash from Celeste’s wallet into my front pocket, then follow her into the bathroom. When she opens the linen closet door, I keep my face perfectly schooled as she pushes on the back wall. Once the panel slides out of the way, revealing a hidden crawl space between the walls, I realize this must be the “back way” mentioned in that text. Celeste didn’t mention this secret passageway existed. Then again, I’m sure she didn’t think I would have a need to use it.
I follow Beth along the narrow space she’s lighting up with her cell phone. “The beginning of what?” I ask as I swat at a cobweb brushing against my hair.
She glances my way right when a shiver rolls through me and chuckles. “Better put your tough face on, Celeste. This place isn’t for sissies.”
I narrow my gaze. “Where the heck are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
I should be wary of her cheeky grin, but the unknown actually sounded better than staying in this fishbowl.
My fingers are numb
with my tight grip on the steering wheel. I roll my head from one shoulder to the other, trying to ease the tension vibrating inside me as I speed along the dark highway. Celeste is drowning in her obligations. I decide what she must and mustn’t do, and who she truly belongs to. I push on the gas pedal, picking up speed.
Car lights flash, nearly blinding me. As the vehicle zooms past, I look up and smile when the lights shine on her. She’s right in front of me, waiting for me to fully claim her.
I slam the pedal to the floor, pushing toward my goal. The day has finally come for her to accept who’s in charge.
This is your day of reckoning, Celeste.
“So what was the deal with you and Calder?” Beth asks once we manage to ditch her security guy. Anthony is far better than Marco. He must know Beth pretty well because he was right on our tail as soon as we left the house. I thought for sure we wouldn’t lose him, but finally I don’t see any car lights following us toward the city.
“What do you mean?” I ask cautiously. I have no idea just how much Beth knows about Calder and Celeste’s relationship.
“Look, I know you weren’t keen on marrying Jake, but I do think Ben’s the better choice for you. He’s definitely less scrappy.”
When Beth lets out a laugh, I realize she’s chuckling at her own joke. Jake must be the “Scrappy” she mentioned earlier. Interesting nickname. I don’t remember him getting into fights at school, but I didn’t go to the football games, so who knows just how rough he was on the field.
Sobering, Beth continues, “As soon as Dad announced your engagement to Ben, Calder looked like someone knocked him in the gut. I saw him slip out the patio door after that. Was there something real going on between you two?”
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