“Skye, wait!” His yell has me walking faster to try to chase away the feelings of despair I have. I will not cry. I will not cry.
Five
I keep my brisk pace up on Hollywood Blvd. until I reach North La Brea, and take a quick left, the signs and shops all a blur as I try to outrun my stupid heart.
My thoughts are racing. Preston Hart…even thinking his name has a devastating effect on me. We were friends since pre-school. He was my best friend, my lover, my heart, but he left without a word.
I left the desert once he was gone, I had to. Without him there my father would have killed me, if not physically then emotionally. Was this meeting by chance, or did he come looking for me? I mentally shake myself. Stop it, Skye, you can’t afford to let him break you again.
The clawing in my belly is starting to hurt. Telling myself being hungry is a state of mind can only last so long, my nerves will soon make the feeling go away soon. Why couldn’t I have just stayed with Preston, he seems to be doing rather well for himself. But deep down I know the Preston I just saw isn’t the boy I fell in love with. That boy would have never left me.
The need to flee the area makes my chest tighten even more, the last thing I need is to have a panic attack on the streets of Hollywood. Foregoing the soup kitchen, I walk five or six blocks, stopping at the bus station and digging out the last of my change from my pocket. Right now, I’m the poor one and it seems he’s the one with the money. I try not to dwell on how the time has changed us so much.
The Metro bus is running to my advantage this time…late. Stepping on the bus and putting in my last dollar fifty in change, I know what this means.
At this time of night there is a line of people getting on the bus, everyone is getting out of work and wanting to get out of the city. Public transportation is always an assault on all my senses, the press of the bodies around me and the stench of cologne mixed with body odor. The sweat of the working class is sickening. I can picture the look of contempt on my mother’s face at the thought of using this means of getting around, a small half smile plays upon my lips.
I turn to the sea of faces, it looks like finding a seat isn’t in the cards tonight. I have the choice between two spots. Taking the one with the easiest exit off the bus, I hold onto the pole as the bus takes off.
I keep my eyes on the route we’re taking away from Hollywood and into Beverly Hills, heading down Wilshire Blvd. I’ve been in this part of Beverly Hills more times than I can count. There’s a distinct class difference here, it’s a very wealthy part of town. Where I’ve been on the poor side of town, I’ve seen people surviving on a couple of hundred dollars a month. Here people wouldn’t dream of spending less than that on a pair of jeans.
In the last five years I’ve been out on my own, I’ve never once had to resort to using my family name to find somewhere to rest, but finally it has come to me going back and using my connections. I’m upset with myself that I’m going to do it, but it’s mine, it’s time to claim it. My father was right when he told me I would never amount to anything without him, that I’d need him to get anywhere in life. Time to show him he’s nothing without me.
I powerwalk the last few blocks, feeling both relief and defeat as I get nearer to an end to my discomfort. It’s time to put the past five years where they belong, in the past. Finally, I come to a stop at the corner of Rodeo and Wilshire. The lights of the Four Seasons bring back so many childhood memories. I feel a pang of sadness because not many of them are good. But the first time I came here at night as a child, I was in awe. It was lit up just like this. It looked larger than life, it still does actually.
The light changes showing me the walk signal, the sparkle of the hotel beckoning me over. The window displays show off the latest and greatest shoes and clothes from the exclusive stores inside and they always catch my eye. The first thing I see are the shoes, they are something that I would have bought without a second thought when I was a kept rich girl. It sickens me now, how I used to spend.
I keep walking past the hotel entrance. I just can’t bring myself to walk in.
A flash of white in the window catches my eye. There’s a petite waitress, her hair pulled back into a sleek bun. She has a warm smile that lights up her whole face, completely out of the ordinary in a town filled with Botox and silicone.
I see the plate she sets down and groan at the thought of tasting the steak. It’s what I used to order, filet mignon with three cheese-mashed potatoes. My stomach growls and cramps, this hunger has me in physical pain. The meal holds my attention as she cracks some fresh pepper on the steak. I imagine it’s cooked the way I like it, medium rare.
So entranced with watching the meal that the small voice startles me, I turn my head around and find that I’m looking down at the waitress that I just saw in the window. I’m five four; she must be about five foot. She’s curvy with a sweet face that you automatically want to trust. She has a welcoming smile on her face and stands up a bit straighter, clearing her throat.
“Excuse me, Miss? Uh, hi, my name is Marie.” She looks back over her shoulder at the restaurant then back at me.
“Uhhh, hi.” Great, I think to myself. She has come out to run me off, a guest must have said something. “Please tell me no one was complaining about me standing here.”
Her eyes go wide. “Oh, no. It’s not that at all.”
Seems my stomach wants to have conversations with anyone that will listen tonight. As if on cue it makes a loud grumble.
She tilts her head then says, “Oh, good, you’re hungry. I was afraid to ask you.”
I’m at a loss for words which in itself is amazing.
She takes over, not waiting for a response, gently reaching out and touching my hand. I flinch.
“I won’t hurt you,” she says and reaches out again and pulls me by my wrist, and I follow her into the restaurant. I’m so confused, that I am just following her, although, this is better than going to the front desk and using my father’s name.
As we walk across the patio and through the glass doors into the restaurant, I’m conscious of my less than stellar appearance. I’m a lot thinner than I used to be, almost stick thin, and my clothes are a bit raggedy. She guides me into a secluded booth. Sliding in the seat, my mouth waters at the sight of the steak sitting on the table. My eyes transfixed on the plate of food, I’m so confused. “I, er… thank you,” I mutter. It’s all I can muster after the night I’ve had.
She clears her throat and I look up at her. She looks nervous all of a sudden and that’s when I hear his baritone voice. “Yes. Thank you, Marie.”
My eyes immediately snap to the face across the table. Holy shit, it’s Preston! Marie’s voice breaks the silence as I glare at him. “This is Preston, he asked me to invite you in.”
I can feel my face filling with rage, a red flush covering me. My heart is pounding in my ears keeping me from hearing what he’s just told her. She glances at me, nods her head and rushes off.
As he watches her walk away, I stand and start moving out of the booth, but those dark chocolate eyes turn to me. “Sit,” he commands in a low voice. So startled by the command, I instantly sit. Placing both hands on the table I frown at him. He gets up slowly and comes to my side of the table, tenderly touching my hand. The shock that goes through me has me jerking my hand back. I can see the perplexed look on his face as he sits himself firmly next to me in the booth, blocking my way out.
Preston pulls his plate over to this side of the table and starts to cut his food up. Unaware of what I’m doing I lean toward the food, watching his skillful hands working. The meat is cooked to perfection, juicy and rare. As he lifts his fork, I notice a platinum Rolex decorating his wrist. How in the hell did he afford that? I wonder if he is on the up and up or shady as hell like my father.
He turns his attention to me. “Relax, want a bite?” he asks with a charming grin.
“No,” I say and then press my lips together in a firm line.
“Liar
,” he whispers and takes the succulent bite into his mouth. He chews slowly, his strong jaw moving with intent, exaggerating his enjoyment for my benefit.
I let out an un-ladylike snort and mumble, “Donkey.”
He raises a brow and gives me a crooked grin, then turns back to his plate of food. “You never used to be this angry.”
I’m almost tempted to pinch under his arm. “Yeah well, I’m a product of my environment.”
Marie returns, stopping him from responding. She sets down a plate of food in front of me. I look down at the same meal he has. She asks Preston, “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“No, thank you, Marie, that will be all.” He’s always had impeccable manners, his mother raised him well. She gives me a soft smile and leaves us to eat.
I watch as she walks away. “Eat,” he says softly so my attention is drawn back to him.
Turning to face Preston in the booth, I have a standoffish tilt to my chin. “Quit telling me what to do,” I somehow manage to say calmly, not letting him know how eager I am to eat. Hell, the food is the only thing keeping me here. I will just ignore the fact that he’s also blocking me in.
He barks out a laugh and points at my plate. “From the noise your stomach is making I think it agrees with me.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, he takes a forkful of potatoes while I study him. His suit is a charcoal gray, tailored perfectly. A moment of sorrow passes through me as I think about how far he’s come. I bet his mama is so proud of him. I need to sock those old feelings away.
He’s stopped moving, I pull my eyes away from his large hands and look up. A confident smile is playing about his full lips, and I recall how they felt on my skin in an unexpected flush of arousal. I continue to examine all of him when I pause, captured by his gaze.
I blush, knowing he was watching me drink him in.
“You done?”
“Done what?”
“Done appraising my charms.” He has a tilt playing on his lips.
I don’t bother answering him. I just nod my head indicating that yes, I’m done.
“Good, now eat.”
I don’t recall him being this demanding. Instead of following his order, I reach over and grab the white wine, giving him a smug look. “Cheers!” I bring the glass to my lips and the crisp taste of apples hits my palate followed by a hint of peach. Mmm, Pinot Grigio, one of my favorites. I’ve been hungry for so long that the finer things like wine hadn’t even crossed my mind, but oh how I’ve missed the crisp taste. I tip the glass up with all intentions of finishing it, but just as the first gulp goes down, the glass is lifted away from my mouth and out of my hands. “Hey!”
Again, he laughs and cuts up the steak calmly, then pushes the plate in front of me. He then passes me a fork that I automatically take. I don’t start eating but I press my lips together to keep myself from telling him to go fuck himself. All the hurt I felt when he left is overwhelming me right now.
His clipped words break the silence. “Where did all this rage come from, Skye?”
“It’s always been there. I just don’t keep it restrained anymore. Anyway, where did all this bossiness come from, Preston?”
“It’s always been there. I just don’t keep it restrained anymore,” he returns, giving me a sarcastic smile
“Look at me, Detka, I know you’re fighting me. It’s ok.”
That name, his name for me, had the ability to bring me to my knees. Then I remember, and a bitter laugh comes out. “What the fuck do you know? You left.”
His eyes slightly narrow and his jaw is set in a firm line. “More than you think. Don’t forget how well I know you.”
“Correction, how well you used to know me,” I can’t help but quip.
You can feel the tension in the air as I gear up to push him firmly away. Marie’s perfectly timed appearance stops the internal battle I am having. “How was everything?”
“Can I get you any dessert, or perhaps a coffee?”
Preston gives her a polite, “No, thank you,” while I finally find my voice.
I’ve never been one to shy away from food and the pastry chef here used to do an amazing job. “Yes, I’ll have the Peruvian warm chocolate soufflé please.”
She smiles. “Certainly.” She turns and is off like a bubble of energy.
Preston’s eyebrows raise. “You really think your stomach can handle that?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
He turns to me with concern on his face. “I don’t think the dessert is a good idea. The way your stomach was making a racket, I think that will be overkill.”
“I want it, are you telling me no?” I challenge him.
“No, I am telling you it isn’t a good idea because it will make you sick. It’s very rich. When was the last time you ate heavy like this?”
I know he’s right, but I am stubborn. “I’ll be ok, it’s just a bit of sugar.” I ignore his second question, it’s been years.
“You’re so stubborn, you know I’m right.” He shakes his head. “I won’t sit here and watch you make yourself sick”
I point to the door. “You can always see yourself out, no one is asking you to stay.” I know it’s rude of me since he invited me to eat, but I can’t stop myself.
He clenches his jaw. “I happen to be staying here. If you find yourself in need of a bed or bathroom...”
I scoot back in the booth, so my back is now touching the wall. “Is that it? You fed the poor street girl, so now she has to pay up?” I can’t keep the venom out of my tone.
He gives me an astonished look. “Absolutely not! I’m worried about you. I just want to know you’ll be ok, that’s all.”
I just roll my eyes at him, no one is ever worried about me. I watch him pull out something from an inner jacket pocket and set it before me, it’s his hotel key.
“Here, don’t be a fool, Skye. The room number is on the key, use it if you need to, no strings attached.” With that he places his hands on the table and pushes his way out of the booth standing and adjusting his suit. He stops Marie on his way out.
I pick up his room key and run my fingers across it, my options are pretty simple. On one hand I can name-drop and my father will foot the bill for it all. On the other hand, I can use Preston for a meal and a place to sleep. I notice the room, the presidential suite? I drop the key on the table and rub my temples, already knowing I am going to go there after I am done. I only hope he can keep the smug look off his face.
After I scarf down the dessert my stomach cramps. I clutch the key and leave the comfort of the booth, my belly overfull.
The opulent lobby never fails to amaze me, so elegant but at the same time these halls are filled with bad memories. The tiled floors are so glossy I can see my reflection in them. For a moment I see myself as I was as a girl with my parents, my mother holding my hand as we walk through, my little shoes clicking with each step. My other arm was in a cast from one of my father’s lessons, our trip was supposed to make up for the ‘accident’. Shaking my head, I bring myself out of the pain of the past and continue on. Passing the front desk, I recognize someone who is in my father’s pocket. He looks at me and gives me a slimey smile and crooks a finger at me to come closer like he’s been expecting me to show up. I’m sure the minute I am out of sight he will be picking up the phone to call my father. I keep walking past and flip him the bird, stepping into the elevator.
Six
I could kick myself. I found her. I found her! That private agent, Jeb, I hired kept sending me on a goose chase. Every lead he passed on was a dead-end. Five years of dead-ends and I was about to give up.
And what’s the first thing I do? I leave her in the restaurant. Crap, it was only blind luck that got her here to this hotel and I freaking leave her. I walk through the lobby of the hotel mumbling idiot under my breath. I promised myself if I ever found her I’d never let her out of my sight again, but here I am walking away.
It was by chance that I saw her. Thank
goodness I did. Jeb had narrowed the search on the Hollywood area, but there were very few potential leads. I wasn’t even in town to search. I had business, but once it was over, I couldn’t resist the old habit to comb the streets for just a little while. It was fate that took me to that particular street and it was just in time from the looks of things.
The strength and stiffness in her stance with that jackass on the street suggested she still had some fight left in her, but I’d say she was close to the edge. It was quite shocking to see her in that situation. All the times I imagined finding her as I drove the streets, I never thought it would be like that. Or rather, I hoped it wouldn’t.
I knew it was her from the top of the street. I’ll never forget how lush she is…or was. Her curvaceous body is always on my mind. She’s thinned out the years she’s been away, but I’d know her anywhere. I can’t help but think about how well we used to fit together, how she feels beneath me. Her eyes glazed with pleasure, her full lips parted with a sigh. Her curls could wrap around my hand and fingers like a lover’s caress.
And now, after all these years without her, searching for her, I leave her. Walking away was hard, I just couldn’t sit there and watch her make herself sick.
I’ll never forget the devastation I felt when Bob, her father, told me with a smug smile that she ran away when he told her I was gone. I thought for certain he was hiding her somewhere. I promised myself I would never give up looking, and now I’ve given her another way to run. What am I doing?
I slide the key card into the door to the presidential suite. They couldn’t accommodate me in my usual suite and I could have taken a regular room, but the manager insisted on this room. I do try to enjoy the finer things that were always out of my reach. I grew up with nothing after all.
This kind of luxury should never be taken for granted. But this is too much, and now Skye is going to think I’m a flashy asshole if she comes up here.
Divine Hart Page 5
