Control

by Laura Marie Altom

  I took off my suit coat, loosened my tie and unfastened my shirt’s top button. Hell, if I played my cards right, skinny-dipping might be in order.

  I rounded the garden’s corner to get a shock.

  Not only was Ella nowhere to be seen, but Willow danced topless on the pool’s center island, waving her bikini top while shrieking, “Woooooo!”

  Holy shit…

  Three guys sat at the table. Two played cards, and the other chugged on a bong.

  I squeezed my hands into fists, trying to keep cool. All this time, I’d thought Ella had been here, patiently waiting, when in reality, she’d been partying with other guys? In my home?

  “Where’s Ella?” I asked Willow.

  “Oh, hey. I wasn’t expecting you.” She scrambled to put her top on. “Guys—meet Liam. This is his place.”

  “Cool, brah…” The guy with the bong stood, holding out his hand supposedly for me to shake. His dreadlocks hung damn near to his waist.

  Bile rose in the back of my throat. I didn’t want to shake this guy’s hand, I wanted to break it. “Get out.”

  “It’s cool, man. I’m Jess, and Willow’s my woman. We’ve transcended…”

  What?

  The music changed again. This time, to a screamo band I didn’t recognize. That crap only increased my rage. “Maybe I wasn’t clear—Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

  “Cool, cool. We don’t want any trouble…” Jess’s eyes were dilated and when he held up his hands in surrender, he almost tipped over.

  Willow dove into the pool, emerging on the other side to grab a towel and wrap herself in it. She said something to the guys at the table, who’d only just now noticed me. They listened to her, then nodded before pushing back their chairs.

  “See?” The guy with the dreads held up his hand for a fist pound. “It’s all cool…”

  I just stared at him and his gang on their way out.

  “Where’s Ella?” I asked Willow.

  She shrugged, then took another towel to dry her hair.

  I was done with this. Allowing Willow to tag along had been stupid. I’d wanted Ella so bad I hadn’t been thinking clearly. I’d seen Ella for her potential, not for the white-trash girl she obviously was. How could I have been such a fool?

  I stormed into the house, tossing my suit coat to a sofa.

  I was just itching to punch something.

  I saw the sagging-pant asses of the guys leaving through the front door.

  I looked for her in the kitchen, the gym, the theater.

  I took the stairs two at a time. “Ella!”

  I searched one bedroom after another, slamming open the doors. Had she played me this whole time? Had she ever even been abused? Yes. My heart had seen the truth of that nightmare play out in her eyes. No matter how much her betrayal pissed me off, I wasn’t stooping low enough to berate her like that. “Ella!”

  Room after room was empty. Willow’s was easy enough to spot. The bed was unmade and the floor littered with clothes, assorted bottles and trash. Where was the cleaning crew I was paying for?

  In the largest corner suite, the bed was made but held a curious assortment of random belongings piled in the middle. I approached cautiously, as I would have an open flame. She’d left this. I felt it. And then I recognized a few articles of the clothing Penny had bought her, along with my credit card and the keys to her car. The blinged-out phone I’d custom-ordered for her. My stomach fisted at the implications of what all of this could mean. Had Willow not known where Ella was because she was gone?

  Charging back downstairs, I found Willow seated at the kitchen table, munching a sandwich and chips.

  Olga stood at the counter, humming what was no doubt the theme song to one of her many TV shows. “Hello, Mister Liam. Hungry?”

  I gave her a quick hug and kissed her cheek. “No, thank you. But could I please have a minute alone with our guest?”

  “Of course. But if you stay too long, I need you to check on the oven.”

  “Promise I’ll just take a minute.”

  “Oh—okay, then.” She removed her apron, bustling in the direction of her room.

  With Olga gone, I sat in the chair next to Willow, then asked from between my clenched teeth, “Where is she?”

  “How am I supposed to know? I’m her friend, not her babysitter.”

  I was so sick of her evasive bullshit that I took her plate and flung it against the wall where it cracked in three pieces, and the remains of her sandwich flew.

  She didn’t flinch.

  I leaned in close. “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Damn it.” I pounded the heel of my fist so hard against the table the potted ivy in the center jumped. I hated this nutcase Ella had turned me into. Even worse, I hated that she held the power to make me feel this way. I wasn’t a guy who threw plates or punched one of my oldest friends. I made money. I laughed and had a good time. I didn’t spend my days and nights obsessed with a woman’s smile. “Tell me what you do know.”

  “Can you say please?”

  I stood up so abruptly my chair fell backward. I could have throttled this bit—no. This temper didn’t belong to me. It was an unwanted legacy from my father, and I wasn’t sinking to intimidation to get what I wanted. I was smarter than that. I took my money clip from my wallet and counted out five Benjamins, slapping them onto the table. “Please, tell me what you do know.”

  Twenty minutes later, I knew precious little more about Ella’s disappearance than I had before, but after essentially sending Willow to her room, then cleaning the mess I’d made with her sandwich so Olga wouldn’t have to, I called Carol to put plans in motion.

  I needed Ella back. Now.

  Especially since Willow had spilled the fact that Ella’s stock-boy friend, Nathan, was in town.

  As badly as I wanted Willow out of my building and life, I let her stay—not because I enjoyed her company, but because I knew that for some unfathomable reason, Ella cared about her. Meaning, it was possible that I’d get lucky and she’d stop by to visit her friend.

  And if I was unlucky?

  Ella and Nathan may have already left town.

  30

  Julie

  Nathan was supposed to have gone back to Arkansas after a week, but he chose to just not get on his plane. I knew he was falling for me, though I didn’t feel the same for him. But oh, how I wished I did. Everything would have been so much easier. Liam would have been relegated to a quiet place in the back of my mind. Somewhere I visited only when sleet pelting the windows reminded me of his emerald eyes and crooked smile.

  It was three weeks since I’d seen Willow.

  Nearly four since I’d seen Liam. Thanksgiving had come and gone.

  With my five thousand, I’d had enough cash to pay the first and last month’s rent on a studio apartment in Sausalito, which was a small, touristy town across the bay. I liked it better than the city, because the pace struck me as more mellow, and our building was close enough to the water that I smelled brine in the air on my morning walks to work. I’d resumed my identity as Julie Smith—I’d never even told Nathan about Blaine, or my real name—and found full-time work at a gift shop that sold Christmas items year-round.

  Carols constantly played and the cinnamon candles made my clothes smell of the holiday even after I’d gone home.

  Since Christmas was only a little over two weeks away, the line for my register never seemed to get smaller. I didn’t mind, though, because keeping busy kept my mind from wandering to Liam.

  On my lunch breaks, I read the newspaper that my boss, Yvonne, left on the back room’s table each day. The pleasantly plump blonde had immigrated to America from Germany fifteen years earlier, but said she read the paper daily to help with her English. I mostly just saw her clipping coupons, and her accent was still plenty thick. In the short time I’d known her, she’d already grown on me. She reminded me in some ways of my mom. Mostly, the way we could talk about anything.
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  In the paper there was always news of Liam. Photos of him. Sometimes with women. Once, I recognized Carol smiling alongside him at a charity function. She’d worn a black cocktail dress and piled her hair high. Her neckline plunged low. Were the two of them back together? Had he so easily forgotten what we’d shared?

  I was still angry with him, but with each passing day, my anger faded and all I could remember were the good times—mostly, when he’d kissed me or merely held me in his arms. When I’d slept alongside him that first night, pressing my cheek to his back only to wake with my head against his chest. During the store’s occasional slow times, or when I lay awake beside Nathan, my mind drifted to our lone night on the beach. What would have happened had I invited Liam into my bed? Would we have finally made love?

  “Julie, hon.” Yvonne set a box filled with new ornaments on the counter behind the checkout. “When you get a chance, would you please put these on the pink tree?”

  “Sure.” She’d smiled at me, so I smiled back. She was a really nice lady, and I was lucky to have found the job. I’d eventually need something better, but for now, this would do.

  Around lunchtime, when the tourists all slowed their shopping to eat, I started in on my task. The ornaments were Hello Kitty, which reminded me of the boots Willow had insisted I wear. Which, in turn, reminded me of how close Liam and I had come to making love in that old woodshed. Only since no love was involved on either of our parts, it wouldn’t have been making love, but just plain old sex. And that was something that even for Liam, I couldn’t do.

  —

  I returned to the apartment a little after eight.

  Sweet Nathan had made packaged mac and cheese, fried sausage and green beans. It wasn’t fancy, but on our shared budget, it was filling and tasted good.

  “Thank you for fixing this,” I said when he ushered me practically straight from the door to the table. The apartment was furnished; otherwise, we’d have been sitting on the floor. “You didn’t have to. It was my night to cook.”

  “I know.” His warm smile made me feel awful inside.

  I knew he wanted more from me. There was only one bed, so we shared it, but in a platonic way. A few times he’d tried kissing me. Once, I’d let him, but like Blaine, Liam had ruined me—only in a completely opposite way. When I’d kissed Liam, I’d felt as if I were flying. As if anything wonderful and holy were not only possible, but probable. Just thinking of him made my throat tighten to the point I was no longer hungry. I forced a bite anyway.

  “Can’t I cook for you just because I want to?”

  “Nathan…”

  “I know, I know.” He covered my hand with his. “But one of these days, when you realize what a dick that guy was, maybe you’ll change your mind.”

  I nodded, hoping more than anything that his words were true. Fearing more than anything they weren’t. “How was work?”

  “Changing the subject?”

  I dropped my fork. It clanged against the plain white plate that had also come with the apartment. “Trying to make pleasant conversation.”

  “Work was work.” He’d gotten a job at a grocery store that was within walking distance. He stocked like he used to at Wal-Mart, but his eight-hour shift began at six a.m. “You give any more thought to those online courses?”

  “Not really. Things are crazy at the store.”

  “Well, I found a community college that has practically free tuition. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life stocking shelves.”

  “Agreed.” I took another bite, but the food tasted like cardboard. I knew I’d lost weight since last seeing Liam, because the thrift-store jeans and T-shirts I’d purchased after leaving were already baggy.

  “Good. Want me to sign you up?” Each day when he got off work, he went to the library to use the computers.

  No. I didn’t want to do anything except lounge in bed and close my eyes and envision Liam. But that was not only a waste of time, but stupid. I was over him. Each day, my memory of him would grow as faint as the Golden Gate’s fog horn, until one day, I ceased thinking of him at all.

  “Jules?” How could Nathan be falling for me when he didn’t even know my name?

  I looked at him, knowing the most important part of diminishing Liam was rebuilding myself. Ella had dreamt of one day becoming a nurse. Who knew what heights Julie might attain? “Yes, please, go ahead and enroll me. I’ll give you all of my ID cards in the morning.”

  Nathan smiled. “Great. I just know everything’s going to be awesome.”

  I hoped it would, but that old knot at the back of my throat stubbornly kept its hold.

  31

  Liam

  On December 17, I stood at my office window, staring out at the rain. The weather had turned as cold as my heart, with wind-driven drops tapping against the glass like tacks. I had two new acquisition mergers to bone up on and about a half-dozen projects on which to sign off, but all I could do was think of Ella, vacillating between wanting to crush her and hold her, never letting her go.

  On a day like this, I worried about her. Was she warm enough? Did she have enough to eat? Was she fucking that Nathan kid, even though she’d been literally incapable of fucking me? The realization that if it hadn’t been for my money, he’d never even have gotten here made me sick.

  Someone knocked on my door.

  I was too deep into my own world to even turn to acknowledge his or her presence.

  “You know where she is.” Carol entered, then closed the door behind her.

  “And?” When Ella’s new landlord ran a background check on Julie Smith, it had been no big deal for my people to locate her. I’d allowed myself one drive past her new building. It wasn’t fancy, but it seemed clean. More importantly, safe. When her new employer filed a W-2 for Julie Smith, I’d allowed myself another visit, this time to the shop where she worked. I hadn’t gone inside. I’d merely stood on the street feeling like a stalker, breathing in the cinnamon-laced air every time a customer passed in or out.

  “Why not just go to her?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  Hardening my jaw, I said, “Because that would be giving her control.”

  What I knew—what only I knew—was that if I ever were to truly win any part of Ella for my own, it would have to be on her terms. She would have to come to me. And so I would wait. Patiently. No matter how many weeks, months or years that might take. Until she realized I had shot myself like a drug into her system and she needed another hit. If I had admitted any of this to Carol or even Owen, they’d have suggested I see a shrink. They’d have believed Ella held all the power for having bewitched me to the point of barely functioning. But they’d have been wrong. The fact that I knew if the two of us were ever going to have a shot, she’d have to come to me put me in the power position. And when she finally did return, I’d be waiting. Wanting. Unsure whether to worship her or be forever wary.

  —

  On December 18 at 5:45 p.m., it took me thirty minutes to find a parking space on the bustling Sausalito street where Ella worked. I had no business being there, which might have been why long after I’d killed the Bentley’s engine, I sat there, listening to Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in C-sharp minor and the rain drumming on the roof.

  What did I hope to accomplish by catching a glimpse of her as she left work for her new home? What made me different from your garden-variety stalker?

  The question made acid rise in my throat. Never losing sight of her shop, I foraged in the center console of the car for my roll of antacids.

  Our formal contract had expired—not that she’d ever followed it. I’d been a fool to have ever thought she would. It was in my world that such formalities mattered. In hers, the only rule she followed was her instinct to run. Was I fooling myself in believing the reason she’d at least stayed in the area was me? Or was it mere practicality keeping her close? A lack of funding and a car?

  She could have ro
bbed me blind at the penthouse—Willow had. She’d pawned upwards of fifty thousand dollars in artwork and antiquities and reportedly hosted nightly parties that had grown increasingly out of control, to the point that her latest had warranted mention in the Chronicle. Olga had asked if I wanted her to phone the police. I’d refused. I needed Willow, sensing that somehow she’d be the key to unlocking the reason why Ella had chosen to leave.

  I was on the verge of starting the engine and driving away when a movement at the front of Ella’s shop caught my eye.

  That Nathan kid popped open an umbrella just as Ella walked out the door. The sudden motion had startled her, but then she’d smiled, linking her arm with his. My stomach seized so violently I could have fucking hurled.

  The crazy in me wanted to leap out of the car, toss her over my shoulder and take her to my beach house, where I would hold her captive until she admitted I was the only man she’d ever wanted. But where was the practicality in that? Not only could I be arrested for kidnapping, but once again, I’d be succumbing to that dark legacy my father had shared. What was it about her that made me feel as if her one look held the power to kick my fragile new foundation out from under me? The man I was today had been purchased. I’d lived this persona long enough that I wanted to believe this was truly me, but it wasn’t. Truth was, I didn’t know who I was. Day by day, minute by minute, she was causing me to unravel. I liked to think the very fact that I hadn’t even rolled down the window to call out to her meant something. That it confirmed my belief that I was the one in control. But was I? How could I possibly be when just looking at her made my hands tremble?

  Would I be flattering myself if I assumed she’d stayed in California for me, in the hope that we might have a second chance? Or had she planted herself in Sausalito for the pure logistics of it being farther away from her ex?

  I wanted her to an unhealthy degree that was on the verge of becoming an obsession—if it wasn’t already. Why? What made her so different from all the rest?