“I do,” Griffin said quietly, closing his eyes, remembering studying for his torts exam, just across the courtyard from where Peyton and Quinn shared a college apartment, then getting the frantic call from his sister, her voice thick with panic and fear.
“Good, don’t ever forget the way she looked in the hospital. Her eyes have never been the same — not until very recently. So I’m not going to give Peyton any more warnings or anything like that. I frankly don’t care if Satan himself is making her happy. I will not take any bit of happiness from her.”
Griffin hung his head. This was not going as he hoped. “He’s going to hurt her.”
“Then I’ll take care of her,” Quinn said, quickly. “I did it before.”
“And so did I.” Griffin paused before continuing. “If you were her, wouldn’t you want to know who you’re dating? I mean, what kind of family you’re getting involved with?”
Quinn exhaled. “Look, Peyton hasn’t told Reed everything, either.”
“He doesn’t know she was raped! He’s probably all over her!”
“You sound a little jealous, Griffin. Think about that before you destroy Peyton’s happiness.”
Griffin hung up the phone, feeling sick to his stomach. He wasn’t the kind of guy to hurt anybody, let alone a girl who’d been through so much already. But somebody needed to look out for Peyton. It had been his job for years — since she had no father or grandfather to do so. And he didn’t want to let go of that. He couldn’t let go of that. No one else seemed ready to take the job. Reed certainly couldn’t do it. And whatever Quinn’s role, she didn’t seem to be doing a very good job. So it didn’t matter what his sister thought. Someone needed to get to Peyton before she got in too deep with Reed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
AS THE LIMO pulled up to her house, Reed pulled at the collar of his tuxedo, trying to loosen his silver necktie, feeling like he was once again going to senior prom. All the same ingredients were there — tux, limo, hot girl, hotel reservation. Peyton didn’t know about the last part, but he’d make sure she couldn’t refuse. In fact, he’d already checked into the hotel.
It would be a shame, he thought, not to get a room since the Mardi Gras Ball was in the first floor hotel ballroom. He set up the room with candles, flowers, bubble bath, and of course, a few condoms in the nightstand. He wasn’t sure he could get that far with Peyton — they’d only kissed so far — but figured a guy could hope, and like a boy scout, it never hurt to be prepared.
He approached her front porch, looking like he just stepped out of a Hollywood movie. He knocked on the door then let himself inside, accustomed to her leaving the front door unlocked for him. He found Peyton starting down the staircase in a long white halter gown, flowing and moving as she did, perfectly accenting her curves. Forget about the ball, he could watch her walk the stairs all night — as long as they still hit the hotel room after. “Wow.”
When she reached the bottom, Reed pulled her into a hug, his hands unexpectedly landing on her bare flesh, his fingers grazing something unusual trailing down her back. He twirled her around, seeing a single strand of pearls attaching the halter to the plunging waistline. “Holy shit.” He ran his finger down the pearls, feeling Peyton quiver from his touch.
She flashed a naughty smile over her shoulder. “When I saw this dress, I immediately thought of you.”
“Did it come with a matching thong?” Reed rubbed his hand across her ass before crashing his mouth into hers and pinning her against the wall. “Let’s stay here.”
Peyton gripped his shoulders, holding him at bay. “But your mom is expecting us.”
“OK, ten minutes at this damn thing.” He placed his hand at the small of her back and led her outside, seeing her eyes light up at the limo under the magnolia tree. “Since we’re going, I decided we’re going to do it right.” The driver held open the door, and they scooted into the back seat. “But I’m serious about ten minutes. Then I’m taking you up to that gorgeous bed.”
Peyton tilted her head to the side and raised the privacy screen separating them from the driver. “When did you go into my bedroom?”
“I wasn’t talking about your bed. I have no idea what your bed looks like, but I’d like to know.”
“What bed are you talking about?” Reed reached into his wallet and held up the hotel key. Peyton narrowed her eyes. “I see.”
Reed put his wallet away and pulled her to him. “We don’t have to use it, but just think about it. It’s been weeks.”
“I’m sorry,” she said flatly, “I won’t be going to a hotel room with you tonight, if ever.”
“Ever?”
“I’m not on the buffet, remember?”
“I know that.”
“Then don’t treat me that way.”
“I’m not.”
“You always took them to hotels, right?”
Reed’s eyes fell down. “I didn’t think about that.”
“I just don’t want to be like all those other girls.”
“You’re not.” He massaged her hand. “I was just trying to be romantic.”
Peyton fidgeted with her locket then looked him in the eye. “Then take me back to your place tonight.”
* * *
The hotel ballroom sparkled with gold and ivory table linens and crystal chandeliers. Reed slipped his hand into hers and looked at her from the corner of his eye. She put all the other women to shame, many trying way too hard, with their painted-on makeup, slutty dresses barely covering their thongs, tacky Mardi Gras feathers in their hair. Peyton didn’t need any of that. She sparkled like a streetlight on a dark French Quarter street.
“Ten minutes,” he said, looking out to the crowd.
“We can’t be rude.”
Reed groaned. “15 minutes, max.”
Peyton started towards the dance floor, as a jazz band started to play. “We’ve never danced together.”
Reed gave Peyton a little twirl, and she laughed, kissing him softly on the lips. “14 minutes now,” he whispered. Suddenly he stopped, his eyes firmly fixed on his mother dancing with a man in a classic black tuxedo, his gray hair perfectly cut. “Let’s dance later.” Reed pulled Peyton away from the floor.
But it was too late. His mother had spotted them and was heading in their direction. He tightened his grip on Peyton’s hand. Marion greeted her son with a bright smile and threw her arms around him, then she pulled back before giving his cheek a little pinch, forcing Reed to give a little smile. She turned to Peyton, dressed all in white, and wedding bells quickly rang in her mind. She took Peyton’s hands then looked at her son, taking a photo in her mind.
“You look simply ravishing!” Marion gushed, side-stepping to take in the pearl strand along Peyton’s back. “Absolutely lovely.” With a slight blush, Peyton thanked her and returned the compliment. Indeed, Marion herself was a sight to behold, wearing a floor-length, amethyst-jeweled dress. Marion waved her husband to come closer. “You must come meet his girlfriend, Peyton.” Reed and Peyton exchanged a quick glance, as his father approached.
He extended his hand to his son, though his dark brown eyes landed on Peyton. “Richard Langston,” he bellowed.
Peyton felt Reed’s fingers graze the small of her back and reached out her hand to Richard. “Peyton Mayfield.” She took a tiny step forward to look at the man’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Richard said, lifting her hand to his lips.
“Nice to meet you, too, sir.” She offered a polite smile but felt uncomfortably small, though Richard wasn’t any taller than his son.
“Mayfield?” Richard stroked his chin, searching the depths of his mind. “Any relation to George Mayfield?”
“My grandfather.”
“He and I rode in Bacchus together for years. He was a good man,” Richard said, touching Peyton’s shoulder. “I was sorry to hear about his death.”
Across the ballroom, Marion spotted a young blonde with brown eyes, dressed in a skin-ti
ght red sequin dress. She quickly excused herself, but not before giving Peyton a kiss on the cheek and motioning to Reed whom she’d seen. “I’ll go distract her,” she whispered.
“How’s Adelaide?” Richard asked.
“She’s living over in Poydras Home now,” Peyton said. “But all and all, she’s doing well.”
“That’s a nice place, the best in the city.”
“Yes, sir. Only the best for Gram.”
“She used to bake the best pies,” Richard said.
“She taught me everything I know.”
“Oh, that’s right! Reed told his mother you own a little pie shop on Magazine.”
“Yes, Adelaide’s — named after my grandmother.”
“Marion and I will have to come over there,” Richard said. “She absolutely raves about some alcohol pie you have.”
“You look like a pecan pie man to me?”
Richard chuckled. “I haven’t had pie in a long time.” He touched his stomach. “Trying to keep in shape.”
Reed didn’t like where this was heading. He could tell his father was prying for information, and Peyton seemed to be falling for his charm. The last thing he wanted was for them to spend any more time together, let alone his father go to Peyton’s shop. “Dad, can I please talk to you about that project?” Then he turned to Peyton. “Baby, can you grab us something to drink? I’ll catch up with you.” Peyton offered both men a smile before heading towards the bar.
Richard watched her walk away. “She’s a pretty girl, Reed,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Not like you to bring a girl around your mother. You know she has you married to this girl and expecting twins already.”
“Mom likes Peyton,” Reed said with a shrug. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Seems you more than just like her.”
“She’s special.”
“Special? There are a lot of special people in the world, Son. Kids with Down Syndrome are special. Isn’t that what they call those kids? Poor people are special. On second thought, are poor folks special, or are they called less fortunate?”
Reed looked away, wishing Peyton had seen this side of his father. “I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Look, special or not, the important thing is that you are with someone who understands our family — and who has her own wealth.”
“Peyton’s not hurting for money.”
“Would you like me to do a background check on her?”
“Jesus! Of course not!”
“You need to think about these things. She has a business, takes care of her house, has a grandmother in an expensive nursing home, and no family support. And she slings pies all day? Give me a break! You don’t think it’s occurred to her what kind of money you come from — what you stand to inherit.”
“No, Dad, I don’t think she thinks about any of that.”
“You are so much like your mother, a sentimental romantic. I don’t understand why you won’t settle down with someone who understands you — someone like Heather maybe. You two are a perfect fit — her family’s business and mine.”
“I’m not having this conversation with you again.”
Richard leaned in close. “You’ve been fucking her since you were a teenager. It’s time to get serious and marry her. You have obligations to this family.”
“You’re going to lecture me about family obligations?”
“Look, I can see why you like this Peyton. I’m not blind. Keep her on the side.”
Reed’s teeth gnashed together. “Are you really suggesting I marry Heather and screw Peyton on the side?”
“Sounds like a perfect arrangement to me.”
A sweet voice rescued Reed from behind. “Excuse me, Mr. Langston, but your son promised me a dance.” Peyton handed both men a drink.
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Richard replied, his eyes softening, and thanked her for the drink. “Please save a dance for me, too.”
“I certainly will.”
“And please give my best to Adelaide.”
“Absolutely.” The man wasn’t at all what Peyton expected; sure, he was a flirt and charming like his son — and evidently had a taste for fooling around — but he hardly seemed a creep who’d bully homeless people.
Reed put down his drink then led her towards the dance floor, boiling mad. “Don’t think about dancing with him.”
Peyton slowed him down and wrapped her arms around him. “OK, I’ll just dance with you.” But she could tell he was in no mood. “Do you want to talk about anything?”
“No, let’s get out of here. We are way past 15 minutes.”
Peyton nodded, though suggested they first say “goodnight” to his mother. But Reed was in no mood for that, either. “Did something happen while I was at the bar?”
Reed didn’t answer. He didn’t want to get into what his father said. It was too horrible, embarrassing, insane — and yet also so typical. His father, as usual, ruined everything. Reed grabbed her hand and started for the exit, cutting a path through the crowd. But when the ballroom door came into view, he froze, seeing up ahead the young blonde with brown eyes in the skin-tight red sequin dress.
“What’s wrong now?”
“You’re right,” he said. “We should say ‘goodnight.’” Reed tried to turn around, but Peyton wouldn’t budge.
“What is going on? First we’re leaving, and now we’re staying?”
Reed felt his father’s eyes on him, probably smirking at his position, caught between two oncoming trains. “That girl who was calling on Valentine’s Day, remember?” Peyton nodded. “She’s here. Heather.” Reed pointed her out. “She’s the daughter of one of my father’s business partners.” Heather spotted Reed and gave a friendly wave.
“But you said you weren’t still seeing her,” Peyton said.
“I’m not.” Reed grabbed his neck. “But she was, well, a regular.”
“On the buffet?”
Reed nodded. “Can we try to slip out another door?”
Peyton saw Heather approach and took a few breaths to gather herself. “If I have to avoid every woman you’ve ever slept with, I may not be able to leave my house. I’m staying.” Then she faked a smile.
Heather kissed him on the cheek, using her thumb to wipe off her lipstick. “Reed, how are you?”
“I’m good,” he said, wiping his own cheek. “We were actually just heading out.”
He took a step to leave, but Heather put out her hand to Peyton. “I’m Heather.” Peyton shook her hand.
“This is my girlfriend, Peyton.” Reed exhaled. This is going to happen, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Heather let out an evil grin. “Oh, you’re the girl occupying all of my man’s time.”
“Heather!” Reed barked, his tone a terse warning.
Peyton patted his forearm, an indication she was fine. “It’s nice to finally put a face with the name flashing on my man’s phone. I see him decline your calls all the time.”
Heather’s eyes widened. “I haven’t heard anything about you. What is it that you do?”
“I own my own business, a pie shop on Magazine.”
Reed appreciated Peyton’s tenacity, but it was making his stomach churn. It would do more harm than good. He wanted to leave, to escape to his place for the night. An altercation with Heather on the heels of his father’s bullshit was just too much. He took Peyton’s hand. “As I said, we were just leaving. It’s a little crowded in here.”
“Since when do you consider three a crowd? Your new friend could join us if you want.” Peyton let go of his hand.
Reed leaned in close to Heather. “Enough,” he whispered. “It’s not going to work.”
“You are so tense, baby.” Heather rubbed his hand. “We really ought to do something about that.”
Reed pulled away and flashed an embarrassed look to Peyton, who’d heard and seen enough. She didn’t like the thought of Reed in a threesome, and Heather was showing
herself to be a complete bitch. And that trumped everything at the moment. “You don’t need to concern yourself with Reed’s needs any longer. I’ve got it covered.” Peyton smiled. “And you will never join us.”
Heather laughed. “I seriously doubt a girl like you can satisfy him. He has quite an appetite — like father, like son.”
Peyton saw Reed wince. She didn’t have all the details about him and his father, but she wasn’t about to let Heather hit him where it hurt. “Look, Heather, let me make myself very clear here. I know you and Reed screwed each other, and I don’t care. The reason I don’t care is because he’s with me now. So obviously you weren’t woman enough for him.”
Reed rolled his eyes, wishing he was anywhere else. Angola Prison would be better.
“Listen here, bitch....” Heather started.
Peyton smiled. “Oh, now we’re going there? You are one classy girl.” She grabbed Reed’s arm and calmly walked past Heather and out of the ballroom.
Reed looked back at Heather, her mouth wide open. He smiled to himself, impressed with his smart-mouthed beauty, then looked at Peyton with pride. But she wasn’t smiling. He saw her bottom lip was quivering. He kissed the side of her head, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.
Peyton increased her pace, her calm walk becoming a slow jog, hoping more speed would keep more tears inside.
Reed matched her stride. “I’m sorry about all that. Let’s just head back to my place.”
“I’ll just take a cab home,” she said, twisting through the revolving doors onto Canal Street dodging throngs of people with drinks in their hands and beads around their necks.
Reed caught her hand on the sidewalk. “Just wait a second. I’ll call the limo.” He pulled out his phone.
“No!” Peyton said quickly. “I have to get out of here.” She held up her hand for a cab.
Reed gave quick instructions to the limo driver and hung up just in time to catch Peyton by the waist before a cab pulled over. “You aren’t running away from me.” Reed motioned for the cab to move along.
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