by Beverly Long
“I sleep better when everyone who is supposed to be here is tucked in.”
“How unfortunate for you.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he said.
“Oh, I won’t,” she answered, starting to walk down the hall. She stopped and looked him in the eye. “You’ll learn, Mr. Security, that I really don’t worry about much of anything.”
Then she walked into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. She didn’t slam it but neither was she very quiet, and he suspected that Jules, if she was still awake, had heard her.
If she’d heard the comment, what would she think? Would she find her mother’s friend’s daughter a little hard, maybe even caustic? Would she excuse her rude behavior away?
He got up, flipped the bolt lock on the door and shut off the lights. Then he returned to the couch and stretched out, determined to catch a few hours of sleep. Jules would be at the panel presentation tomorrow. For some reason, Royce had a feeling that it was very important he be sharp for that.
Ready for whatever was headed Jules’s way.
Chapter 12
Royce was already awake and at the table reading the paper when JC stumbled into the kitchen, feeling as if her eyes had been rubbed with sandpaper. She hadn’t slept well and it really irritated her that Royce was already showered, in clean clothes and functioning.
She still had on her robe and hadn’t even brushed her teeth. “Morning,” she mumbled.
“Good morning,” he said. “There’s coffee, pastries and fruit on the counter.”
He’d already ordered from room service. And had folded up the sheets and the blanket she’d given him the night before into a neat pile.
She’d forgotten how chipper he was in the mornings. On the nights when he’d stayed over at her apartment, he’d always been up first and had always had the coffee ready.
Well, he wasn’t the only one who could immediately function. She spied Charity’s beach towel that had been left in the chair. With purpose, she walked over, grabbed the towel to fold it and immediately started sneezing.
The bright morning sunlight caught the floating cat hair, making it look like a mini dust storm.
“Oh, good Lord,” she said.
“It’s a long-haired cat,” Royce said, like it was a foregone conclusion that everything would be covered in cat hair. “Are you allergic?”
“I hope not,” she said. She’d never had a cat. She dropped the beach towel and poured a cup of coffee from the silver carafe. It was too hot and it burned her tongue, but she didn’t care.
“We’ll leave here in an hour,” she said.
He shook his head. “We’ll leave here in forty-five minutes.”
“Why?”
“If anybody is watching you and knows that you’re in this suite, then they’re going to expect you to arrive via elevator in the main lobby in about an hour. That’s why we’re going to take the stairs in forty-five minutes and enter through a back door to the conference room. I reviewed the schematics of the hotel last night,” he added, as if daring her to challenge the decision.
She wasn’t challenging anything. Even if it involved walking down fourteen flights of stairs. Yesterday’s gunshot, whether directed at her or not, was still too fresh in her mind. Every time she’d rolled over, her stitches had pulled.
Almost as if he’d read her mind, he glanced at her hairline. “How’s the cut?” he asked, his voice much kinder.
“Fine,” she said. Kind and conciliatory could be her undoing. She refreshed her coffee, then picked up the cup. She’d drink it in her room. “I guess that since my getting-dressed window got compressed without me realizing it, I better get going. I will see you—” she squinted at the clock “—in forty-three and a half minutes.”
She was pretty sure she heard him laughing as she walked out of the room.
When she got behind her bedroom door, she quickly found her cell phone and dialed Barry. His wife, who was traveling with him, answered his cell phone. “Hi, JC. Barry is in the shower. Can he call you back?”
“That’s okay, Eileen. I just wanted him to know that I won’t meet him outside the session room like we’d planned. I’ll see him inside.”
“Okay, honey. I’ll give him the message. I’m going to tag along, too. Don’t want to miss seeing you on the panel.”
“Oh, that’s sweet of you, Eileen. And it will be so good to catch up. It’s been too long.”
“For sure. Good luck, now.”
JC tossed her phone onto the bed. Eileen Wood had been her mother’s best friend. It had been Eileen who had stayed at the hospital with JC, who had made sure that all the doctors and nurses knew that the fourteen-year-old in the bed with the badly fractured leg had just lost her mother in an accident. She’d made sure that they treated JC with the kindness and consideration that her battered body and spirit had needed.
Over the years, Eileen had been a solid force in JC’s life and she loved the woman, who had never had any children of her own. She’d held JC’s hand after her relationship with Bryson had fizzled to a slow death and had been excited to hear that JC was dating again when she’d confided that she’d met Royce.
Eileen had said she was happy for her when JC had gone to visit after Labor Day, with news that she was marrying Bryson. Had helped her pick out a wedding dress and talk to the caterers. All the things her mom might have done. Just one time, she’d asked, Are you sure, honey? JC had nodded and the moment had passed.
Since Barry had retired, Eileen frequently traveled with him as he fulfilled his board responsibilities, and it wasn’t unusual that Eileen and JC would find a few minutes for a cup of coffee.
JC shucked off her clothes and stepped into the shower. She was going to have to step it up because she probably only now had about forty-one minutes before Royce would be pounding on the door.
Serve him right if she opened it naked, dripping wet with water.
But she knew that would be a little like mixing gasoline and a lit match. She’d seen the look in his eyes last night when she’d opened the door before she’d had her robe tied. She’d always loved lingerie, and pretty nightgowns were an indulgence for her. She’d heard the pounding, had assumed it had something to do with Charity and hadn’t taken due care to make sure she was covered.
His look had been hot, and it had reminded her of all the times in the past when he’d looked at her that way and then minutes later they’d been in bed, practically tearing each other’s clothes off.
He’d been an eager lover, always wanting her, always making sure she was satisfied before taking his own pleasure. It had been a heady experience after having dated Bryson for the previous year. With Bryson, the sex had simply been fine and when she was really tired, she hadn’t even felt bad about pretending to have an orgasm.
There’d been no need for pretense with Royce. She’d been all but bursting with orgasms from practically the first time he’d touched her.
So there would be no answering the door naked. She’d be fully clothed, her buttons buttoned and her zippers zipped.
JC washed her hair, being as careful as she could to keep the water away from her stitches. She’d left the bandage on, so that provided some protection. Then it was a final rinse and she was out and drying off with one of the big soft towels.
She put some lotion on and ran a comb through her hair. Then she added some styling gel and dried it. She was fortunate to have some natural curl, so she never had to mess with curling irons or hot rollers.
She used some hairspray to hold it down, then slipped into a black knit dress with a royal blue jacket. Finally, she added a scarf to hide the bruises that were showing at her neckline. She slipped her feet into black sandals, grabbed her black leather shoulder bag and was out the bedroom door.
She looked at the clock. S
miled. She had a full minute to go. Still, Royce was waiting for her. He’d changed into a gray suit with a brilliant white shirt and a navy-and-gray tie. He looked really good and she felt a physical response to his all-male presence.
“Now what?” she asked, making sure her tone was businesslike.
“Now we go down the stairs. I’ll go first. When we get to the room, I need you to let me know if anything doesn’t look right or feel right. Go with your gut.”
Her gut was telling her that it had been a mistake to think that she could be with Royce 24/7 and not relive the memories of that summer. The best summer of her life.
“Okay,” she said.
He opened the door, checked the hallway and motioned for her to come. The idea that someone could be waiting for them on the staircase made her empty stomach feel pinched and tight.
He’s just being careful, she told herself. No need to start seeing shadows in the corners.
They got to the third floor and he smiled at her reassuringly, as if he’d sensed her nervousness. “So far so good.”
She swallowed hard. “Really good.”
He reached out his hand, wrapped it gently around her arm. His skin was very warm and she could feel the transfer of heat. “It’s going to be fine,” he said. “I will not let anything happen to you.”
“I know.” She did. But what if something happened to him in the process of protecting her? She couldn’t bear it. “Don’t be a hero,” she said.
The air in the stairway became very still. Heavy. He stared at her mouth and she got the craziest feeling that he was about to kiss her. He leaned forward and—
A burst of laughter came from outside the door. He straightened up. Opened the door slowly. She could see past him. Two women, hotel workers by their dress, were in the hallway, looking at something on a phone.
One of the women typed something and then dropped the phone into her smock pocket. The two of them continued down the hall.
She looked at him and knew that the moment they’d shared was gone.
“Let’s go,” he said. They walked down the hallway and he pulled open a door. Just as he’d told her, they were in the presentation space, entering just to the right of the risers, where there was a table, three chairs and a podium with a microphone. The front entrance to the room had not yet been opened and they were the only people in the big space.
“I’ll stand against that wall so that I can see the entire room,” he said.
He’d be off to her left, just six or seven big steps from the podium. It was crazy, because she’d been speaking to audiences, many times much larger than this, for years and she was rarely nervous. But the idea that Royce would be watching, would be judging her remarks, her performance, was making butterflies dance in her stomach.
She cared what he thought.
Still.
Had she ever stopped caring about his opinion? Was that why, after her divorce, she’d been so steadfast in her resolve that she wasn’t going to find him, admit her colossal mistake and beg forgiveness?
Because she hadn’t been willing to risk that she’d see the disgust in his eyes? Hadn’t been willing to hear his condemnation?
She saw the doors open at the far end of the room and knew that their private time was short-lived. “Fine,” she said, grateful for the interruption. She needed to focus, to think about the things she was confident about.
Attendees quickly filled the room, and within minutes, the two other speakers joined her onstage. Wayne Isman shook her hand and made small talk for a few minutes. “How’s your family?” she asked.
“Good,” he said. “We’re going to France in April and the girls are going to be able to join us.”
She shifted her attention to the other presenter, who was known as an expert on antibiotic-resistant superbugs. “Good to see you again, Lilah,” JC said.
The women shook hands. “Good-sized crowd,” said Lilah, not sounding too thrilled.
“Yes,” JC responded. Lots of people who looked very normal, very reasonable. Most had their heads down, doing some last-minute checking of their cell phones. She saw Barry and Eileen Wood come in and take a seat toward the back. She waved to them. Eileen gave her a thumbs-up in return.
Nobody in the audience looked like a shotgun-wielding creep. She risked a glance toward Royce. He had his back against the wall, turned at just the right angle that he could see the audience and still manage to look as if he might be any other attendee who simply preferred to stand rather than sit on the hard plastic chairs.
He was doing his best to comply with her wishes that he be as inconspicuous as possible. She appreciated that.
Once the facilitator introduced the panel, the time seemed to fly by. Wayne spoke first and it made her smile when she saw many of the women sit forward on their chairs, taking every word in. They’d be disappointed with her East Coast delivery.
She looked down at her notes. Wayne’s remarks were fitting in nicely with what she’d prepared. She wasn’t surprised. When they’d worked together, it had seemed that they had a knack for anticipating each other’s thoughts. When she looked up, she was momentarily caught off guard when she saw Charity slip into the room. She stood there a minute, then headed for a chair in the fourth row that someone had just vacated as they’d left the room, cell phone to ear.
She shouldn’t be there. The conference sessions were only open to registered attendees and there were usually people at the door checking to make sure that everyone who entered had a lanyard and attendee badge hanging around their neck. However, since the session had started, those people had evidently abandoned their posts, allowing Charity to enter without notice.
How the heck had she known where the session was being held?
JC dismissed that question as inconsequential. It wouldn’t have been difficult. She could have gone onto the association’s website and picked up their Twitter feed, where they were doing real-time reporting on all sessions.
The more important question was why had she come? Was she interested in what JC did for a living? She hadn’t expressed much interest before. But was this a sign that she was slowly opening up to the possibility that they might become friends?
JC caught Charity’s eye and gave her a smile. The young woman gave her a little wave in return.
Suddenly, Wayne was sitting and Lilah was looking at her. She got up, took a deep breath and began. It was crazy but with both Royce and Charity in the audience, it seemed so much more important to do a really good job.
She was ten minutes into her presentation and it was going well. She kept her eyes moving, taking in the whole audience, making sure that she was accurately reading their faces. Did they understand? Were they interested? Had she said something that caused them to lean over and remark to their neighbor?
Mostly, everyone seemed to be listening and nodding in the right places.
Her eyes rested on Barry and Eileen Wood. Barry was smiling, probably happy that the CEO was doing fine. And Eileen... JC stumbled on her words midsentence. She looked down at her notes, found her place and resumed.
On autopilot. Having given this presentation twice before, that was easy enough to do. Thank goodness, because she was a little shaken.
Eileen Wood, who was on a different side of the room than Charity, and at least six rows back, was staring at the young woman. And she looked...angry.
What was that about?
JC took a quick glance at Royce. Had he noticed? When she turned her head, that small motion was enough to cause his eyes to flick her direction. She could see the question in them. Is everything okay?
She knew that he was ready to charge the stage, ready to rescue her. He would, without a doubt, put himself in harm’s way to save her.
Brave. Honorable. Maybe the exterior had changed, but he was still the same man
she’d loved.
She turned back to the audience. Delivered the remainder of her remarks.
When she finished and it was time for Lilah to take the podium, she noticed that Charity stayed, although now she had her phone out and was checking it.
She looked at the Woods. Barry was listening attentively to Lilah, and Eileen was looking down, her face thoughtful.
After Lilah finished, they opened it up for questions. Hands shot into the air, making it seem as if the audience was very engaged in the talk. JC had to focus on the questions.
Finally, the facilitator was back up onstage, cutting off the questions and dismissing the audience. As inevitably happened at these kinds of conferences, once the session ended, multiple people approached the stage to continue asking questions, sometimes related to the presentation, sometimes not. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Royce edge closer.
And she saw Charity exit the room.
She wanted to run after her, to ask her what she’d thought, but she stayed right where she was. The first woman to reach her had a question about what the drug companies were doing to curb the alarming increase in addictions to painkilling opioids. That was a complicated question and JC tried to give her a simple yet thoughtful answer. The woman left and JC moved on to the next question.
Barry came up, extended his hand. “Congratulations. Great job.”
“Where’s Eileen?” she asked.
“Said she wasn’t feeling well. Went back to the room.”
Another audience member approached. “Well, tell her that I’ll call her later,” JC said.
Finally, fifteen minutes later the crowd dissipated. JC gathered up her notes. “That was fun,” she said to Lilah.
“Public speaking isn’t my favorite thing to do,” said the woman. She glanced over her shoulder, where Royce stood. Then she looked back at JC. “That man has been staring at you. Do you know him?”
“I do. He’s...uh...waiting for me.”
“He’s very handsome,” Lilah whispered. “I’d speak at more of these if somebody like that was waiting for me at the end.” She picked up her briefcase. “Have a good night.”
