The Escape_An Irish Mafia Romance

by Cassie Wild

  Finally, some peace came.

  I was sinking into a deep blue light, safe and warm …

  Fifteen

  Daria

  My eyes burned from fatigue.

  I’d finally managed to relax enough and grab a few snatches of sleep, but now with the hard, bright light of the sun shining in on me, I gave up even trying to rest anymore and slid from the bed.

  Although I’d showered the night before, I ducked into the bathroom and started to strip.

  I needed to wash the cobwebs from my brain and wake up.

  At some point during the night, I’d come to a decision.

  I was leaving.

  The owner of the ballet school had reluctantly agreed to allow me a week off, and that, only after Isabel had pleaded my case. But I wasn’t staying here for the rest of the week.

  The thought of running into Brooks again was enough to fray what was left of my shattered nerves. I’d go back to New York, resume my classes and forget about the past few days.

  It was sad, because I’d been looking forward to some time away from New York City.

  Now I wished I never left and that made me feel bad. I was genuinely happy for Isabel, but I could be happy without being here.

  Dragging my suitcases out, I put them on the rumpled bed and opened them. Part of me wished I hadn’t bothered unpacking, because here I was, less than forty-eight hours after I arrived, I was having to go through the motions of packing back up.

  All of my dirty clothes, what little there were, went into a zippered mesh sack, except for my bridesmaid dress. That I crushed up and put into one of the compartments on my bigger suitcase. Normally, I’d take more care than that, but I never even wanted to look at the dress again.

  If I hadn’t been worried about hurting Isabel’s feelings, I would have left it behind.

  But I wouldn’t hurt her because I’d been foolish. The dress would go back with me. At some point, I’d get it cleaned, then donate it somewhere.

  I focused on the mindless task of packing, refusing to let my mind wander. I knew where my thoughts would go and it was better not to torture myself with futile dreams.

  It took some determination to stick to the decision I’d made—the decision not to think about … him—but if nothing else, I had determination. A professional dancer needed it, otherwise one didn’t become a professional dancer.

  I took a quick break after I finished the first suitcase and sat on the edge of the bed, my cheap smartphone in hand. My phone service was hit or miss, even though we weren’t that far from Miami. However, the WiFi worked and Isabel had given me the password information I needed to log on.

  Once I was on the Internet, I did a search for taxi services. I blanched once I realized just how far out we were. I was already prepared for the fact that I’d have to pay a fee to change my return flight. My miniscule savings couldn’t take much more abuse.

  Maybe I could get the man who’d picked me up to drive me back to the airport.

  While I was brooding over that, a noise caught my ears and I glanced toward the door.

  A sharp shout echoed through it and I bit my lip, wondering what was wrong.

  I’d long ago learned the lesson of minding my own business, but that noise level rose and along with it, my curiosity. It took a massive amount of control not to get up and open the door a crack to quietly gawk. But I managed. I busied myself with trying to arrange a return flight home. It was all to no avail, though. I could find information for flights tomorrow and after, but I discovered that if I wanted to find a flight for today, I’d have to do it at the airport.

  “So, do it,” I told myself stubbornly. Even if there wasn’t a flight today, there would have to be one tomorrow. Maybe I’d end up spending the night at the airport, but I’d spent my nights in worse places.

  Mind made up, I rose and got some water from the beverage service before finishing up the task of packing. I had a lingering headache from all the alcohol I’d had during the past twenty-four hours, but something told me it would have been a lot worse if I hadn’t emptied my stomach so vigorously. And indecorously—in the flowerbed of my host.

  Between that and how much water I’d forced myself to drink once I woke up, I didn’t feel anywhere near as bad as I deserved and I knew it.

  I’d feel even better if I managed to eat, but I wanted to focus on packing first—and what I’d tell Isabel.

  As if I’d summoned her simply by thinking about her, my friend chose that moment to knock on the door, calling out my name.

  The doorknob jiggled and belatedly, I remembered locking it the night before.

  Crossing the floor, I went opened it, giving her a wan smile.

  She rolled her eyes. “I hope that noise didn’t wake you up,” she said, glancing down the hall.

  I could still hear the faint echo of a raised voice and I pushed the door open wider. “Who in the world is that?” I asked.

  “Danika,” she said dryly. “She … ah … well, I think she tried to party-crash last night.” She waved a dismissive hand as she nudged past me and ducked into my room.

  She turned to grin at me. “She’s got a thing for Sean’s older brother, Declan. They’re … well … they have this friends-with-benefits thing going on, but nobody else in the family likes her and neither Sean nor I wanted her at the wedding. She wasn’t invited, but somehow she’s here anyway.”

  “Oh. I see.” I didn’t, not really, but what else was I going to say?

  Isabel flicked her fingers as if brushing the whole idea aside. She moved deeper into the room.

  Almost immediately she spun back around, her mouth agape. “You’re … packing?” she demanded. “But we were able to convince Madame to give you the week off!”

  Squirming under the hurt look she gave me, I twisted my hands in front of me, debating on what to say. The last thing I wanted to tell her was the truth. It was too embarrassing.

  But when I opened my mouth, the truth was what came spilling out.

  “I have to go. After last night?” I laughed and the sound was a little maniacal. “Isabel, I’m so embarrassed. You won’t …” I stopped and covered my face with my hands. My skin was red-hot, evidence of my lingering humiliation.

  Cool fingers wrapped around my wrists and tugged my hands down. “What happened?” she asked softly.

  “I …” I licked my lips, then, feeling helpless, I moved in closer to her. She wrapped her arms around me.

  “Come on, honey, tell me what’s wrong,” she said, her voice gentle.

  I swallowed down the sob that tried to come welling out and nodded. Gently prying myself out of her hug, I moved over to the edge of the bed and leaned my hips against it. “I came onto Brooks last night.”

  Her eyes widened, then softened. “Honey …”

  “He kissed me. We were dancing, then I said something about us being alone and he brought me inside the house. We were in somebody’s office and he kissed me. Then he …” My cheeks flamed. “We were doing … stuff.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t have sex with Brooks last night.”

  “I didn’t have sex with Brooks last night.” Not for lack of trying, though. “We probably would have. He touched me and …” I stopped, swallowing as I remembered just how he’d touched me. “Well, we were doing stuff. But before we could …um, well, you know, somebody else came into the office.”

  “Somebody saw you?” she breathed out.

  “No,” I said, hurrying to reassure her. “At least, I don’t think so. Brooks was standing in front of me and I never saw who it was at the door. I think they were looking to … well, find someplace private, too. They left, but I was so embarrassed …” I heaved out a breath, cheeks heating with remembered embarrassment. “I was so embarrassed, I just took off running. Brooks was trying to catch me, but then …he wasn’t there. I ended up wandering around the gardens …Isabel, I was so drunk.”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “A lot of people were drunk. It was a part
y.”

  Her calm acceptance of that didn’t serve to make me feel any better, though.

  “I was in the garden,” I said, slipping down on to the edge of the bed. “I wasn’t thinking straight, but I was still so embarrassed and I was worried I’d run into Brooks again … then I heard people talking. I heard him talking.”

  I bit my lip, worrying it a little before forcing on. “I heard him talking and I got up. I shouldn’t have gone to look, but I did. And …” I gulped in air. “He … um … he was with a woman. And she … she kissed him. I ran away again, but I didn’t make it far before I ended up getting sick.”

  Miserable, I looked away. “I threw up in your mother’s roses, Isabel.”

  “Oh, honey …” She came and sat down next to me. “They are just flowers. And nobody will know it was you.”

  “I know,” I said, my face stinging with heat. I stared at my knees. “I got back to my room. I think somebody helped me. I was still feeling really bad. Once I got in here, I drank a bunch of water, then showered. By that time, I was feeling a little better.”

  “It’s okay, honey,” she said, covering my knotted hands with hers. “So, you got drunk and made a play for a good-looking guy. You’re not the first to ever make that move, and you won’t be the last.”

  I gave her an unhappy look. “I haven’t finished.”

  “Oh.” She blinked.

  When I didn’t continue right away, she untwisted my hands and twined her fingers through mine, squeezing gently. “Just get it all out, okay?”

  “I wanted to finish what we started,” I said, getting that part out before I lost my nerve. “His room is just across from mine. I told you how I sort of barged in on him the first day I was here. And I…”

  Blowing out a tired breath, I freed my hand from Isabel’s and leaned forward. Elbows braced on my knees, I dropped my face into my hands. “You know I’m still a virgin, Isabel. I’m… well, I don’t want to be a virgin. I wanted to finish what Brooks and I started.”

  She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and waited.

  Sniffing, I said, “I went over to his room. The door wasn’t locked. So I pushed it open and slipped inside. I thought he was in bed, thought maybe it would be easier for me to tell him I wanted to keep on going if I didn’t have to look at him.”

  Swiping my tongue across my dried lips, I relived those awful few seconds when I’d realized it wasn’t Brooks in the bed, but the woman he’d kissed the night before.

  “Did he turn you down?” Isabel asked, her voice soft.

  I laughed bitterly. “No, that would be preferable to what happened. Isabel, there was another woman in his bed. It wasn’t Brooks I saw, but another woman.”

  “Oh.”

  That simple syllable had me jerking my head up and I turned my head to look at her. She looked … stunned. The moment our eyes connected, she smoothed her face and reached out, pulling me closer in a quick hug.

  “It was awful,” I whispered.

  “I can’t even imagine. Did he … was in there, too?”

  I laughed sharply, the sound echoing around the room.

  “No. That’s the only blessing out of this whole miserable thing. He wasn’t in there. And the woman … I don’t think she knew who I was. I didn’t see her at the wedding. But Isabel …” Abruptly, all the stress and emotion from the past night crashed into me and I started to cry.

  Isabel hugged me again and started to rock us back and forth.

  Her easy understanding, the simple acceptance had the tears coming even harder, even faster.

  Like a sudden storm, the tears passed in a flash and once the sobs had faded away, I pulled back and got up. Without saying a word, I ducked into the bathroom and washed my face. I was paler than normal and now my eyes were red.

  “Very patriotic—you fit in with this country now, Daria,” I murmured to my reflection. My skin so pale, it looked sheet white, especially with my blue irises and red-rimmed eyes. Red, white and blue. I laughed pitifully and grabbed a washcloth, wetting it with cold water.

  Carrying it back out into the bedroom, I sank down on the nearest chair and leaned my head back, draping the rag over my eyes.

  “Is this why you want to leave?” Isabel asked.

  She was closer and I sensed her sitting down in the seat next to mine. Holding out a hand, I wasn’t surprised when she took it.

  “I’m just so embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be,” she said in a flat voice. “He’s the dog who bounced from one woman to another in the span of … what, an hour?”

  “Not even.”

  “He is the one who should be embarrassed. He won’t be, but damn, did he miss out. You’d be one hell of a catch and now he won’t ever know what he missed.”

  “You’re just trying to make me feel better,” I said miserably.

  “Is it working?”

  With a weak laugh, I tugged the washcloth from eyes and offered a tired smile. “A little bit, I think.”

  “Just a little?” She gave me her most charming smile.

  I couldn’t resist it. “Just a little,” I said. “But at least I don’t feel like wishing the world would open up and swallow me.”

  “Will you stay?” she asked softly. “Please?”

  I hesitated.

  “Please,” she said again, wheedling me this time. “Come on … I’m stuck here for the day. Brooks and Sean have work.” She sounded disgusted. “I can’t even leave for my honeymoon until tonight. Everybody else is leaving and I don’t want to be alone the day after my wedding.”

  I could feel myself starting to cave.

  Isabel must have sensed it because she dropped her tone even more, coaxing now. “We can take Dad’s yacht out. Lie out on the deck and swim. It will be fun.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. I thought again of the man staying across the hall. “What if I run into him? It will be so embarrassing.”

  “For all he knows, the last thing that happened was you taking off running after the two of you were caught pre-nookie,” Isabel said, her voice firm. “And what woman wouldn’t be embarrassed to have that happen?”

  “What would you have done?” I asked her.

  She grimaced. “I probably would have wished for the world to open up and swallow me whole.”

  “Would you have run away?”

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But if it was my first time? Yeah. I think I might have run away. The first time is weird enough. But to have it interrupted like that?”

  She stroked my hair back. “Come on, honey. Stay here for a little while longer. My honeymoon is only a couple of days and I’m supposed to fly back with you at the end of the week. Sean won’t even be coming up for a few more days, then we start looking for a place to stay. Life is just going to be stressful. A few days hanging out with my best friend is just what I need.”

  “A few days?” I said doubtfully.

  “Well…if you hang around here until I get back from my honeymoon, then we’d have Wednesday and Thursday before we have to fly back. Think of it as a vacation from Madame Nadia.” She wrinkled her nose up as she mentioned the owner of the school we attended. Nadia was … in short … unpleasant.

  “You’re a bad influence,” I said, sighing and leaning more heavily against her. “But lying on the deck of a nice boat and just … not thinking for a little while sounds wonderful.”

  Isabel squealed and hugged me tighter. “It’s a yacht, honey. Not a boat. You’re going to love it. And we won’t talk about you-know-who at all. Unless you want to.”

  We moved into the breakfast room, a bright, cheery room lit by the early morning sun.

  It was huge, easily twice as big as some of the diners in New York City. Several of the tables were full.

  I surreptitiously glanced around for Brooks. I didn’t see him.

  “Come on, let’s go sit with Briar,” Isabel said, catching my hand and tugging me across the room.

  Several people called out con
gratulations as they caught sight of Isabel. If anybody other than me thought it was odd that her new husband wasn’t with her, nobody commented on it.

  I was curious about his absence, but remembering the apathy in Isabel’s voice as she mentioned how Brooks and Sean had to work, I decided against asking about it.

  The woman who’d flagged Isabel down looked familiar and I managed to coax my tired brain into working. Briar … it hit me just as we sat down. She’d been one of the bridesmaids…she was also Brooks’ sister.

  Uncomfortable now, I sat down.

  Briar greeted me by name, a warm, friendly smile on her face before she looked over at Isabel. “He’s abandoned you already, huh?”

  “He has to work for a little while before we can leave. Isn’t that just typical?”

  Briar offered a commiserating smile and squeezed Isabel’s hand. “You’ll be off on your honeymoon in no time.”

  “Yeah.” Isabel leaned over and bumped my shoulder with hers. “We’re going out on Daddy’s yacht after we eat. Daria won’t let me be lonely.”

  “That’s a good friend.”

  We lapsed into silence as somebody appeared at the edge of the table. She was dressed like a waiter in all black with a white apron tied around her generous hips.

  “Miss Isabel,” she said, a bright smile wreathing her worn old face. “You look lovely today.”

  “Hi, Marquetta,” Isabel replied, returning the woman’s smile. “I want my usual.”

  I frowned as the woman shifted her attention to me. There was no menu—well, of course there was no menu. This was somebody’s home.

  “What would you like, Miss Daria?” Marquetta asked. “Whatever it is, we probably have it.”

  “Ah ... grapefruit?” I asked tentatively. “Maybe an egg-white omelet?”

  “Absolutely. Anything else?”

  “No.” Like Isabel, I had to watch my diet closely and after all the alcohol and food I’d indulged in, I needed to be careful for the next few days. “Some ice water would be lovely, though.”

  She beckoned to somebody standing nearby. A moment later, a man clad in a black and white uniform similar to hers appeared and filled the empty goblet at my elbow. Without asking, he also filled Isabel’s and turned questioning eyes to Briar.