“You went where?” she said.
“We went for a bike ride up in Santa Rosa, and then when we got back I was starving, so he took me to this place called Dottie’s True Blue Café. In the Tenderloin.”
“Stella, my God. Why on earth would you go to that part of the city?”
“It was fine, Mom. And the food was really good. I bet it’s somewhere Dad would really like to go.”
The Tenderloin was not a neighborhood I was familiar with at all, and was, in fact, somewhere that I avoided, if only because my mother had filled my head with ridiculous notions: the streets of the Tenderloin were overrun with homeless people, drug addicts, and prostitutes; someone would try to rob me; I’d step on a used needle and get infected with HIV.
But it hadn’t been that bad at all. Sure, certain corners we walked by reeked of stale beer and old piss, and there were plenty of street people and some of them did say some not-so-nice things, but no one had tried to accost me, no one had tried to grab my purse off my arm, no one had tried to force drugs down my throat. And the restaurant itself had been amazing. I knew that part of it was just that I’d gone on way too long of a ride than what I was fit to do and that anything would’ve tasted good, but the food really was phenomenal. It made me wonder how many other cool places existed that I had no idea about only because they were in an area that my mother had deemed unsavory.
“How did you come to find out about this place?” my mother asked.
“Cole.”
She took a sip of her wine. “I see. So, the person whom we hired to protect you is bringing you to one of the most dangerous parts of the city. Next you’ll be telling me that he took you sightseeing in Hunter’s Point. I’ve got half a mind to fire him right now.”
Part of me wanted her to do just that. But I knew if she did, there’d just be some other guy, and then another guy after that. And, much as I didn’t want to admit it, Cole was a good rider. He could hang. I knew he was holding back earlier, and though I’d probably always be faster than he was on the uphills, he could blow by me on the descents. He was good enough he probably could go pro if he wanted—another realization that made me feel a little weird. Aside from the people I had raced against, I didn’t know anyone who was a better bike rider than I was.
“Nothing bad happened,” I said. “Unless you count Cole almost choking.”
“Choking? On what?”
“We were eating pancakes. It was something of an eating contest.”
My mother regarded me with an expression of pure disgust. “An eating contest?”
“Yes. Don’t worry, though; I won.”
“I really wonder about you sometimes.”
“I actually had a good time. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Of course it does. But not at the expense of your safety.”
“I wasn’t in danger. It was nice to go somewhere that I hadn’t been before. And the food was good, Mom.”
She opened her mouth as if to say something but then stopped, which was somewhat strange because she normally wasn’t someone not to say exactly what was on her mind. It was probably something along the lines of how would I know what good food tasted like? I knew I was not the daughter that my mother had envisioned or hoped I would be. She wanted someone more like Lauren, someone who would be like her little sidekick, who was interested in doing the same things she was, and disliked the same things she did. She wanted the idea of us spending the day together shopping or wine tasting to be something that I actually wanted to do, not something I occasionally did because I felt obligated or wanted to avoid the inevitable guilt trip. I did indulge her in some of those things because I knew she had done the same for me; any race of mine she was a spectator at had not been an enjoyable experience for her, even if it did mean getting to travel to somewhere like Val di Sole or Fort William. She didn’t mind the sightseeing, but her presence at the actual event itself had been something she’d done probably because she wanted to avoid her own guilt trip.
“I assume since you went riding today you won’t be doing that tomorrow,” Mom said.
“I’m not sure.” There was no way in hell I was going to be able to ride tomorrow, though I didn’t want to let her in on that. I had pushed it way too hard today—going up to Annadel had been on my list of things I wanted to do again at some point, but I had planned to be in much better shape before attempting it. I had thought that we wouldn’t actually finish the ride, but I figured it would be because Cole wouldn’t be able to keep up. In that way, he had surprised me, and I knew that the little snack break we’d had because he’d claimed he needed to rest was something he’d really done for my benefit. It made me feel squirmy inside to think that, because in the past, I was always the one to take a break when I didn’t need to for someone else’s sake. Which was why I enjoyed riding by myself whenever possible.
“I was thinking we could do something tomorrow,” Mom said. “The spa, and then maybe lunch. How does that sound?”
My whole body was aching, and I knew that it would probably be worse tomorrow. A nice, relaxing Swedish massage didn’t sound bad at all.
“I think that would be nice,” I said.
“Great. I’ll have Gareth call first thing in the morning to make sure that Mattias and Serena are available.”
And even if they had appointments, they’d reschedule them just to fit my mother in.
My phone dinged and I glanced over at it as my mother frowned at me.
“You know I don’t like having phones at the table while we’re eating,” she said.
I’d been expecting a message from Lauren, or maybe my dad, but instead it was that unknown number:
You think you might be safe now, but you are in danger.
I pressed the home button so the screen went dark.
“Was that your father?” Mom asked.
I shook my head and took a big bite of pasta so I wouldn’t have to elaborate. If I came clean to her now, she’d freak out. She’d call my father, who would also freak out, and he’d insist that we get in touch with the police or something. And then what would they do? Maybe they’d have some way of tracking whoever was sending the messages down, but I wasn’t afraid.
“I won’t be nosy and pry,” she said, though I knew that’s exactly what she was doing.
“It was my paramour,” I said. “Randy. He just texted to tell me that he dropped his wife off at the hospital to be induced, so he’s got a few hours before things really get going. We’re going to rendezvous in the back seat of his Ford Explorer.”
“I know you think you’re trying to be funny,” Mom said. “And maybe your father indulges you and would laugh at that sort of thing. But it’s not funny, Stella. It’s very unbecoming, actually. Infidelity is not a joke. It destroys families. And I hope it’s not something you would ever partake in.”
“I’d only consider it every third Tuesday.”
Sometimes, I’d get going, and find that I couldn’t shut my mouth, even when I knew that I should. I wasn’t trying to piss my mother off; it was something that just seemed to occur naturally, more often than not lately. At one point in my life, we’d been closer. We had never been like best friends or sisters or anything, but now we were like oil and water. I did know that it hadn’t always been like that, though it was getting harder and harder to remember.
My mother pushed back from the table, dabbing at her mouth with her linen napkin. “Please excuse me,” she said stiffly. “If you’re still interested in going to the spa tomorrow, Kevin will be driving us there at ten.”
I was just about done, too, though, so I followed her and brought my plate out to the kitchen. I scraped what was left into the trash, then started to rinse it off.
“Just leave it,” my mother said, sliding her own plate into the sink. “Alicia will get to it in the morning.” She went over to the island and poured herself another glass of wine. “I’m going to go take a soak in the hot tub for a little while, if you’re looking for me.
And like I said, tomorrow at ten. Since Lillian and Lauren are going, I think they’d appreciate it if you could find it in yourself to be able to make it.”
“I think that should be fine,” I said.
My mother tipped the last of her wine into her mouth and then left the glass sitting there on the island. I retrieved it and rinsed it out before putting it in the dish strainer.
I went back out to the table and got my phone. I sat back down, since I was alone, and reread the message. Then, I did something that I hadn’t yet. I wrote back.
Who is this?
The little typing indicator icon showed up almost right away. I waited, feeling something like anxiety and excited anticipation. Could it really be this easy? All I’d had to do had been just ask who it was?
But the seconds continued to tick by, and then the little icon disappeared without any text coming through. Hmm. I waited another minute, but then I gave up. I wasn’t going to sit there and stare at my phone all night. I did type one more message though:
If you’re going to make threats, you could at least have the balls to tell me who you are.
This time, I didn’t wait to see if they were going to write back or not; I took my phone and went up to my room. I got my laptop and went over to the window seat, which was arranged with pillows and had a memory-foam mattress to sit on. It was my favorite place in the house, and it was where I ended up most evenings. I opened the laptop and went onto YouTube, typing in my name. I didn’t do this often, but sometimes I did, because I couldn’t not, even though it was painful to watch videos of myself on a bike, because I knew I’d never be at that level again. I could watch clips from almost all of my races, even the one where I crashed.
Even now, I hated to think back about the crash. Not so much the actual crash itself, but afterward, when I’d been drifting in and out of consciousness and would briefly come to, long enough to register that my parents were there by my bedside, faces stricken. I’d had two surgeries at that point—one emergency one to repair the internal injuries I’d suffered, and then another one to fix my shattered hip. Scars crisscrossed my body—mostly my torso, where it was at least easy enough to hide—but the worst one had been from a deep laceration from a jagged piece of rock that I had basically landed on. The one that my mother had been trying to disguise with that ridiculous asymmetrical dress she had wanted me to wear to my father’s birthday dinner.
It wasn’t close to bedtime yet, but I decided I’d take a shower and change into my pajamas. I set the computer down without watching any videos. I undressed and actually did stop and look at myself in the full-length mirror in my bathroom. Some of the scars, the doctors had said, would fade over time, would barely be noticeable. And some of them had. But many of them had not, and my days of wearing a bikini or just a sports bra and a pair of shorts when I went for a ride on a hot day were over. I wasn’t going to be sitting naked in a sauna anymore, or stripping down in front of Lauren to try on some new clothes. I knew I shouldn’t care about that sort of thing, that I should be a good role model for healthy body image, but I couldn’t stand how it looked. I had never given too much thought to my body before, other than if it was capable enough to do what I wanted, but now that my physical appearance had changed, now that it was definitely not what I wanted it to be, I realized what I had taken for granted. The problem was, it was too late to do anything about it. I wanted to be as strong as I used to be, able to ride my bike for miles and miles without even breaking a sweat, but almost more than that I didn’t want to have these awful scars, a permanent reminder of a terrible day that had changed my life forever.
Chapter 7
Cole
Though I’d only skipped out on going into the office for a few days, it felt like I’d been away for much longer when I went in that afternoon. I hadn’t been needed at the Brookshires—Stella and her mother were going to spend the day at the spa, and Gareth was apparently going to go with them. Not that I would qualify him as a bodyguard of sorts, but he had a certain tenacity and a blatant overprotectiveness toward that family, so I figured they were in good hands. And anyway, spending an entire day at a spa sounded like torture, so I was glad that I was able to skip out on that one.
They were all in the conference room when I got there, talking about Lowell Academy, though the conversation stopped when I came in.
“Cole!” Jason said. He was still exuding that honeymoon-phase happiness; he was glowing with it. “Good to see you.”
“So how’s it going over at the Brookshires’?” Drew asked.
“It’s been pretty good,” I said. “Let’s see. I got to drive this really nice jeep, go for a ride up at Annadel, and then eat pancakes at Dottie’s.”
Lena raised her eyebrows. “And you’re getting paid for this?”
“Apparently so.”
“It is a little strange not seeing you around as much,” Jason said.
Ben nodded. “Yeah, we miss you, man. But your new gig does sound pretty good.”
“I’ve come to quite enjoy it,” Lena chimed in. “Drew said she’s kind of a pain in the ass though, and that I shouldn’t get too used to you not being around.”
“He did?” I wondered if he had talked to Ed, if he knew something that I didn’t know.
Lena shrugged. “He said they had a bunch of bodyguards not be able to hang because she scared them off. So...” She came over and sat down right next to me, so close she was almost in my lap. “Is she scary?”
“Not really,” I said. “Certainly not as scary as you sitting this close to me.”
“Their place must be off the hook,” Jason said. “Drew was showing it to me on Google maps. Is it just the three of them living there?”
“Yeah. I mean, there’s various other people around, like their chef, and the house cleaner, and this guy, Gareth. He’s kind of a weirdo. I guess he’s some sort of plant whisperer? That’s what Ed was saying. I don’t think he lives there though.”
“That place is ridiculous,” Ben said, shaking his head. “You could probably comfortably house a dozen families in that space. That sort of extravagance is kind of... sickening.”
“It is a little over the top,” I agreed. “But the thing is, Ed actually seems pretty down to earth. His wife is another story, but Ed seems cool.”
Lena stood up and went back over to the chair she’d been sitting in. “God, Cole, you’re such a letdown.”
I smirked. “That’s not what you were saying last night.”
She made a face. “I think I’m about to be sick.”
“All right, you two, that’s enough,” Drew said. “Well, you haven’t missed much around here. We’ve had several other schools get in touch with us about security, so Lena and Ben will be going over to the East Bay tomorrow to check out places over there, and Jason and I have somewhere in the city to go to, and then down in the South Bay.”
I nodded, feeling the slightest bit of a twinge that I was somehow being left out, though I knew that wasn’t the case at all.
Chapter 8
Stella
“Lillian texted me and said that she and Lauren are looking forward to the spa,” Mom said the next morning. We were sitting at the breakfast bar, drinking the coffee I had made for us. Mom had given Ronda, our chef, the morning off, so we were eating the pastries that Gareth had picked up from the bakery that morning. “And that we’ll meet with Trevor and a friend of his after for lunch.
“Okay,” I said, taking a bite of a cheese Danish. I knew “Trevor and a friend of his” meant yet another potential date for me to have to not go on. But I wasn’t about to get into that argument now while I was enjoying this delicious cheese Danish.
“I wouldn’t eat too much,” Mom said. “You don’t want to have a full stomach right before you get a massage.”
“This is the first bite I’ve taken.”
“I’m just reminding you. You know what you might want to wear? That purple dress.”
“To the spa?”
&n
bsp; “Well, you’ll be changing out of whatever you wear there right when you arrive. I’m thinking that it might be good a choice for when we go out to lunch.”
“Oh, right. To meet Trevor and this friend. Whom I’m totally not interested in, by the way.” I set the Danish down on its little plate. Maybe it would be better to just break the news to her now, get it out of the way.
“You haven’t even met him. You have no clue who it is. It could be your soul mate.”
I snorted. “You don’t actually believe that.”
“You never know, Stella. And you’re never going to meet someone if you don’t keep an open mind. I hate to see how bitter and angry you’ve become since your accident.”
“Come on, Mom. I was never all rainbows and sunshine.”
“I’m not saying you were rainbows and sunshine all the time, but you never minded meeting new people. And besides, you’re Lauren’s maid of honor. You’ll be walking down the aisle with Ethan, because he’s Trevor’s best man. It’s only natural that he be your date.”
I shuddered at the mention of “walking down the aisle.” I was going to be in Lauren’s wedding because she had basically presented it to me as if I had no choice, but I wasn’t excited about it. It would’ve been much better to just be a guest, not someone who was going to have to wear some ridiculous matching dress and take tiny little half steps down the aisle while Pachelbel’s “Canon” played. Probably what my mother was hoping was that I’d get one taste of walking down the aisle and suddenly be overcome with finding a man of my own to walk down the aisle to. The chances of that happening were zero, but I decided not to tell her that.
***
My mother’s favorite spa was on the top floor of one of San Francisco’s luxury hotels. I’d been with her a few times before, though it had been a while since the last time. We ran into Lillian and Lauren in the lobby, and we took the express elevator up to the top floor. Lauren looked stunningly gorgeous, as usual, even though she was dressed down in a pair of yoga pants and a dark-green tunic. Her mom, Lillian, had obviously had some more Botox recently, because her face barely moved when she greeted us.
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