“It turns out I was Miranda’s mark. She and her real boyfriend stole my car, my watch, my wallet, my phone, and my guitar. She knew my PIN—I once stupidly gave her my ATM card to grab some cash while I waited in the car—so before I came to, they’d gotten what money they could, not to mention I had the three hundred dollars I’d been paid for the gig inside my wallet. They used my credit card for gas and a shit ton of mini mart food by the amount charged. Then they drove to my condo and cleaned it out with some help. My security cameras caught two guys with them, their faces hidden by baseball hats, and they had a truck.”
“You’re lucky they didn’t steal you.” My heart hammers at the thought.
“Yeah.”
“I assume they were arrested?”
“No. I didn’t want the police involved.”
“What? Why?”
“I didn’t want my family to know what had happened. If they knew they’d worry about me or worse, put security on me. I didn’t want or need a shadow. And I wanted to forget it had ever happened. I was humiliated.”
“I’m so sorry.” I squeeze his arm. “Nobody knows about this?” I ask incredulously.
“West is the only person who knows. I walked back to the pub and called him from a landline. He came right away. At that point, I had no idea the extent of Miranda’s deceit. West drove me home and that’s when we pieced everything together.”
“You didn’t go to the hospital?” I fight the involuntary urge to feel for a bump on the back of his head. I know this took place years ago, but it’s happening to me right now.
“I did. West insisted. It’s easier to keep a trip to the ER on the down low than it is a police report. I had a concussion, but my faith in people hurt a hell of a lot more. I couldn’t believe Miranda had completely tricked me into believing she was a good person and loved me. West and I did some digging around and it turned out Miranda wasn’t even her real name. She also wasn’t enrolled in school. We drove to her apartment and on the way there I realized I’d never been inside the building. She always slept at my place.”
I scrunch up my nose, knowing where this was going.
“Yeah, she didn’t live there. The landlord had no idea who she was.”
“I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
He shrugs. “Thanks. I fell into a pretty deep depression after that. West helped me clean up what was left inside my condo, bought me new furniture, and besides going to class, I stayed holed up in there for months. Which brings me to the point of telling you all this. West got me through it. He made sure I didn’t die in my sleep from a head injury. He helped me cancel my credit cards and close my bank account. He drove me to the DMV to get a new license. He brought me groceries when I ran out of food and refused to shop for myself. And he told me I wasn’t an idiot. That Miranda had fooled him, too.
“He kept me from losing my mind and hating all women. One day he came over with his sister. She was a year older than us and I’d always had a crush on her. Little did I know, she had a crush on me, too. We never would have dated without West’s blessing. If things didn’t work out between us, then what, you know? But he knew I was safe in her hands after what had happened with Miranda and he wanted that for me. He knew how much I liked being in a relationship. He also knew Tracy was safe with me. West butting into my dating life is what got me to forgive myself, trust a woman again, and move on with someone new.”
“You guys broke up, though, and you and West are still friends.”
“Yeah. Tracy and I dated for about a year and then realized we were better off as friends. No hard feelings. She’s still close to her brother and I still have my best friend. For everything he did, I owe him, Alejandra, and I always will.”
I blink in understanding. Some friends are like family.
“And occasionally I let what happened cloud my judgment. Again, I’m sorry for accusing you like I did.”
“It’s okay.”
“You’ll keep all this to yourself?” That he feels the need to question my confidence hurts a little. I’m very trustworthy.
“Of course,” I assure him, honored he shared something so personal with me. “Did you ever hear from Miranda again or find out anything else about her? I hate that she got away with what she did to you.”
“Actually, I did. A couple of years later there was a high-profile robbery here in LA and guess who got caught? Turns out she was part of a theft ring that had been on law enforcement’s radar for several years. She’s in prison now, serving time for conspiracy to murder, too.”
“Oh my God.”
“Yeah.” He lets out a breath. “How are you feeling? Want to head below deck for something to eat?”
“Sure. I think I can handle some crackers.”
“Let’s do it.”
The rest of the boat ride is uneventful. We hang out with other passengers and slip away for fresh air and a view of the horizon when I start to feel green around the gills.
Back on land, it takes me a while to feel back to normal again.
Not because of any lingering nausea.
But because so much happened today. With West. With Drew.
Especially Drew.
Being with him today has me more out of sorts than ever, and I’m not sure if my usual approach to life is enough anymore.
Chapter Twelve
A Jump on the Wild Side
Alejandra
The next morning I’m sitting in my usual spot on the couch reading a book when the hotel phone rings. To my disappointment, Drew wasn’t here when I woke up, so I get to my feet and walk to the kitchen to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Alejandra?”
“Yes, this is she.”
“It’s Rosemary. How are you?”
“Oh, hi! I’m good. How are you?”
“I’ll be better if you say you’re free for the day.”
The request takes me by surprise. Sundays are usually my day off, but I planned to work on another grant application today and then visit the senior center since I wasn’t there yesterday. The staff can handle things without me, and my boss told me she didn’t want to see my face again until tomorrow, but it’s hard for me to be away two days in a row.
“Alejandra?” Rosemary’s warm, strong voice cuts into my deliberation.
“Sorry. Umm, sure, I’m free. What can I help you with?”
“Fantastic. I’ll be by to pick you up in thirty. Dress in comfortable pants and closed-toe shoes and bring a jacket. You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
“No,” I say, imagining an amusement park in our future. I love roller coasters. The taller the better. The only thing I can’t do is the rides that spin.
“Excellent. What’s your cell number? I’ll text you when I’m in front of the hotel.”
I rattle off my number with a grin on my face. She is so incredibly vibrant for a woman who will be eighty next month.
After we hang up, I quickly shower, dress as instructed, adding my black and white STRAIGHT OUTTA THE SENIOR CENTER T-shirt then leave a note for Drew on the kitchen counter telling him I’m out with his grandmother. As I head downstairs, a special kind of joy I haven’t felt in a long time fills my chest. I’m excited to spend today with Rosemary. I miss days spent with my abuela very much.
On my way through the lobby, I run my hand over the Baccarat vase filled with gorgeous white flowers. If I hadn’t made the gutsy move of pretending to steal it, I wouldn’t be where I am right now. One day I’ll tell Drew what I was really doing that morning. Speaking of Mr. Hotel Owner, I catch sight of him in my periphery just as my phone chirps with a text. He’s speaking to someone behind the registration desk with a serious expression on his handsome face. He is beyond good-looking in his dark suit and white shirt, open at the collar. His hair is neatly combed; sexy stubble continues to surround his mouth and cover his jawline. A sigh unconsciously slips through my lips.
With a nice visual of Drew tucked in the back of my mind, I
step outside the hotel to find Rosemary waiting for me in a fancy black SUV. The valet opens the back passenger door and I slide inside.
“Good morning,” I say.
“Good morning.” She eyes my shirt. “I’ll need an explanation on that as we drive.”
“You got it.” I’m happy to tell her about my job. “Can I ask where we’re headed?”
The car pulls away from the curb. The soft sound of classical music plays through the speakers. “That’s one of the things I really like about you, Alejandra. You joined me without asking about what we were doing. That tells me you’re here for my company and I appreciate that.”
“I am definitely here because of you. In fact, I really like being with people of your age group. You could even say I’m more comfortable with seventy-somethings than I am with twenty-somethings.”
“Hence the T-shirt.”
“Hence the T-shirt,” I echo. “I work at the Davis Senior Center as their activities director.”
“How wonderful. Tell me about it.”
I do. I tell her about our programs and our seniors and I invite her to visit anytime. Conversation flows easily back and forth after that on too many topics to recount. She is funny and opinionated and sharp-witted. Finally, I get back to my question from an hour ago. “What are we doing today?”
“We’re going bungee jumping,” she says calmly.
I, on the other hand, immediately fight for breath.
She’s almost eighty years old! How does the idea of jumping off a tall structure connected to nothing but a large elastic cord not scare the crap out of her?
Like it does me. I grip the door handle and contemplate flinging myself out of the moving vehicle, but that would be impossible since I’m pretty sure an invisible elephant is sitting on my chest.
“Breathe,” Rosemary says, putting her delicate hand on my arm. “Deep breath in—” she inhales slowly and looks to me to do the same “—slow breath out.”
I don’t feel even marginally better on the exhalation, but it was nice of her to try.
“If you don’t want to jump, you don’t have to,” she says. “You can be a spectator, but I’m told there are two bungee jumping platforms so we can jump at the same time, if that makes you feel better.”
She is amazing, attempting to put me at ease while she is gung ho to do something I bet very few seniors do. I’m reminded of what Drew said to me, about her hurting herself, and his worry about Rosemary worms its way into my thoughts. “Drew is going—”
“To be sorry he didn’t come. I gave him a chance; he blew it.” She sits taller. “I’m glad, too, because I don’t need anyone fussing over me. Just think about the look on his face when we tell him what we did.”
“Aren’t you even a little afraid?”
“Fear is something we invent and so I refuse to let it exist. Want to know what I do instead?”
“Yes, please.”
“I say to myself, ‘What would Thor do?’ and we both know Thor would jump in with both feet, so that takes care of that.”
I chuckle. And those five little words ring in my ears. Jump in with both feet. This would be the biggest adventure of my life and be considered a walk on the wild side. Take that, Gabriela.
“You’re picturing Chris Hemsworth now, aren’t you?” Rosemary asks.
“Yes.”
“So, if we die today at least it’s with that hottie on our minds.”
“Rosemary,” I admonish. “No one is dying today.”
“Atta, girl.”
We arrive at a campground in the Angeles National Forest. There are several other cars parked in the lot and a group is gathering at a Forest Service gate. Rosemary is stylish as can be in a pair of jeans, hiking boots, and a green cashmere cardigan. The sun is shining in a clear sky, but the air is much cooler up here in the mountains. Our driver, Carl, carries a large backpack and joins us. From his size and easy way with Rosemary, I gather he works for her in many different capacities.
We hike a couple of miles to a historic arch bridge that’s as beautiful as it is scary. An ice-blue lake glistens one hundred feet below. (Our guide gave us the history of the bridge and all of the particulars.) My heart gallops as I stare at the notable structure. It continues to beat heavily against my rib cage through Jump School, where we learn everything we need to know and are given a ‘jump menu.’ As if I’d do anything but a regular jump, thank you very much. My heart is careening out of control by the time I’m standing on the edge of the platform, safety gear on and triple checked. I feel like a nervous Nelly, not an adrenaline junkie. The teeth chattering is a major giveaway. But despite all this, I’m doing it. I’m going to jump, even if it kills me. It’s not going to kill me. I promised Rosemary. And speaking of Rosemary, I look over at her on the other platform. She looks over at me. I’d return her smile, but my face is frozen in fear. What would Thor do, Alejandra?
Thor would smile and jump his ass off, so that’s what I do.
What we do—jumping simultaneously.
Rosemary shouts, “Yippee ki yay!”
I shout, “Holy shit!”
In the blink of an eye, gravity pulls me down. Adrenaline, excitement, anxiety, and terror rush through me as I free-fall. The feeling of weightlessness only lasts a few seconds, though, and then I bounce up and down a couple of times and boom! I’m done. I survived. Aleluya! Nunca lo volvere a hacer. Hallelujah. I am never ever doing that again.
A small boat drifts underneath my dangling legs and a staff person pulls Rosemary, and then me, down. The experience was super quick, but my body won’t stop shaking. I also can’t keep the smile off my face, proud of myself for what I just did.
“That was incredible!” I high-five Rosemary.
“It was,” she agrees. Her short dyed-blond hair is windblown. Her cheeks are pink. But her temperament is serene as ever. The woman is remarkable. “I’m glad you jumped with me.”
“Me, too.” I give her a hug, grateful she lets me hold tight for as long as I need.
A guide leads us back to the campground where Carl is waiting with a full picnic lunch. My nerves finally settle while we eat and laugh over the digital photos taken of each of us when we jumped. Rosemary’s expression is one of complete composure, while my face is filled with terror. We’re talking slasher-film-level horror. It’s embarrassingly funny, and I don’t care. It’s proof I jumped. Proof I’ve lived on the wild side. Spread my wings.
I can’t wait to tell Drew.
“Chloe is going to love this,” Rosemary says, her fingers busy on her phone. We were each emailed our photo, so I’m guessing she’s in the process of posting hers to social media. “In addition to being my granddaughter-in-law, she’s my social media manager.” Rosemary’s fingers stop for a moment. She looks up in consideration. A grin follows, and she resumes her task. “Hashtag YOLO.”
“You only live once,” I say.
“Exactly.”
On the drive home, she talks animatedly about her family and I learn more about Drew’s brothers and their significant others. Ethan’s girlfriend has a daughter, Rylee, whom Rosemary is quite taken with. She shows me a picture Ethan texted her yesterday of Rylee at Wrigley Field for a Chicago Cubs game. She’s in the visiting team’s dugout with Finn, dressed in full Landsharks attire, and grinning.
The closeness between the Auprince family is almost tangible. It reminds me of what it was like when my grandparents were still alive. When me, Gabby, and Diego would happily spend all day at home watching telenovelas, playing cards, reading books, and sharing meals. As I stare out the car window, lost in thought, I can smell my abuela’s asopao. She made the delicious Puerto Rican stew every Sunday.
I miss those days more than ever when around close-knit families.
And I long to one day have my own.
By the time Carl pulls up to The Surfeit to drop me off it’s almost five o’clock. “Thank you so much for today,” I tell Rosemary. “I’ll always remember it.”
“It was my pleasure. And I will, too.”
I give her a hug goodbye.
“Alejandra?”
I pause before stepping out of the SUV to look over my shoulder. “Yes?”
“How about we hang glide next?”
“You talking a tandem glide where we’re hooked in with an instructor?”
She blinks. “Hooked with a hottie sounds right up my alley.”
I laugh. “You’re too much.”
“So I’ve been told. I’ll look into it. You in?”
“I’m in.” Even though I have no idea if I’ll still be in contact with Drew and his family when the time comes. It’s selfish, agreeing so readily, but all I can think is I want more of this. More adventures with Rosemary. More feeling like I belong, that there’s a place for me among this devoted family.
My relationship with Drew may have started out on the wrong foot, but we’ve righted it now. There’s a tingling under my skin whenever I’m around him. His smile makes me forget what day it is. It’s Drew’s smell and touch and taste emblazoned in my memory while Matthew’s has faded.
I take the elevator up to the penthouse. Alone in the small space with my overactive imagination, I may not be ready to give up on Matthew entirely, but one thing is crystal clear.
It’s getting harder and harder to keep feelings out of my attachment to Drew.
Chapter Thirteen
Sexy Sorry
Drew
I can count on one hand the things that matter most to me in this world. My family. My friends. The Surfeit. As a kid, I worshipped the ground my brothers walked on. I still do, to a certain extent. (Don’t tell them I said that or I will never hear the end of it.) I’ve also revered my parents, even during my teens and early twenties when the last thing I wanted was to be around them.
Then there’s my grandmother.
Mémère is remarkable, exceptional, incomparable. She’s also nosy, trouble-making, clever, and too perceptive for her own good.
We love her unconditionally and would be lost without her, and I pray to God she’s got another twenty years in front of her.
Hot Shot (American Royalty Book 3) Page 13
