Chapter 24

Dawn

I left the hospital in one of Jeannine’s maxi dresses and borrowed sandals. I snuck out before visiting hours because I didn’t want to face anyone. It still hurt to breathe when I overexerted myself, so I called an Uber from my hospital room to take me to my bank. I had five thousand dollars thanks to the last few weeks of sales. I was glad I made a deposit the night of the fire. It saved me from having that go up in smoke along with the rest of my things. I couldn’t bring myself to go down to the store and see the damages. The insurance check would come in handy, but I knew it could be months before it got to me.

So instead of a quarter of a million dollars, I had five thousand. I asked the driver to take me to the library next to use their computers to see what that could buy me. I should buy a car. I could sleep in it and I could drive it far, far away from Haven. I could get a cheap apartment and hope that I could find a job to make rent. My phone was lost in the fire too, which was probably a good thing. I didn’t want to talk to anyone anyway.

I couldn’t take my father’s overbearing nature and his smug “I told you so” attitude.

I couldn’t deal with Jeannine’s chirpy, syrupy roommates.

I couldn’t bear Rory’s rejection.

I decided to go to Job Lot, my favorite discount store. For two hundred dollars, I got a suitcase and a week’s worth of really cheap clothes. Finally, I asked the beleaguered Uber driver to take me to the train station. For three hundred dollars, I bought a ticket to California. Why? Because it was the farthest place by the water I could go and still get there by train.

Worried about someone stealing from me while I slept, I carried my money in the front of my panties. I missed the diamond necklace around my neck. I had been wearing it when they took me out of the burning building. It was either stolen in the hospital, or Rory took it back, but it wasn’t with my things when I left. It was probably just as well; I wouldn’t have been able to bear hocking it for cash, and if I wore it, I’d probably get mugged.

I spent the three days on the train, eating, wandering, and looking at the scenery. It was pretty, and the closer I got to California, my melancholy turned into excitement. I was on an adventure. I didn’t have to open up my shop at 10 a.m. sharp. I didn’t have to deal with irate customers. And I didn’t have to sleep on a lumpy futon and hide. Of course, the reclining seat on the train wasn’t much better, but best of all? No one was here to judge me.

When I got off the train in Los Angeles, it was damned hot. But the sun felt good. I realized that I was going to have to get a phone, if only to search the Internet and call for rides. I took a cab to a strip mall that sold prepaid smartphones. I was able to cancel my old plan for this new one.

“Do you want to keep the same phone number?” said the salesperson.

Did I?

“No,” I said. It was time for a fresh start. I would reach out to people once I was settled. But for right now, I was enjoying not having anyone’s expectations on me.

“You’ve got several voicemails. Do you want to listen to them before I delete them?”

I took a deep breathe. “Yes, thanks.”

My mother.

My father.

Jeannine freaking out.

Stephanie freaking out.

Rory hadn’t called. Why did I do that to myself? I forced a smile. “Thanks. You can delete them now.”

“Keep the pictures?”

I hesitated. “Yes, please.” I could torture myself with them later before deleting them.

I excused myself to go to the ladies’ room and took a few hundred out of my pants, then put it in my wallet in my purse.

“This is going to take about an hour. Do you want to grab something to eat and then come back?”

“Sure. Is there an Internet café around here?”

“Two stores down,” he said, jerking his thumb.

“I’ll see you in an hour.”

I bought myself a large café mocha and a cinnamon bun the size of my head and started looking for cheap hotels or rentals. I didn’t have much of a plan, but while I was on the train I had a lot of time to think. I figured I’d find a boutique that would hire me so I could float a bit while my self-confidence came back. I hesitated about checking my email, but I couldn’t stay away.

My in-box was overflowing. I deleted all the junk mail and was surprised at how many of the Haven townies sent a note saying how sorry they were my shop burned down. My family also sent freak-out emails. And there was one from Rory. The subject line said “Call me,” and there was nothing in the body of the email.

“No,” I said. He made it clear that I wasn’t wanted, and while that wasn’t okay right now, it was going to have to be. If I heard his voice, I would probably burst into tears, and that would damage my hard-earned serenity.

I wound up typing a short email to Jeannine, telling her that I was going away for a while to get my head on straight and that I would call her with the details once I was settled. I asked about the cat and then sent it before I could ask about Rory.

After I polished off the cinnamon bun, I headed back to pick up my phone. My first call was to a cab to take me to a Travelodge. I paid in cash up front for a week, and while it wasn’t The Ritz-Carlton, it was clean. While I pored over the want ads, I found a tattoo parlor was looking for a front desk person. Calling another cab, I headed over there. Traffic was a nightmare. I was glad I wasn’t driving.

The owner and I hit it off and he told me I could start tomorrow. He also gave me directions to a fantastic sushi restaurant and I splurged, treating myself to some sashimi and cucumber rolls. I took another cab to the closest beach. It was crowded, even at this time in the afternoon. Sitting in the sand, I watched the waves go in and out. Even if this just turned out to be a vacation, seeing the water felt healing. What was that Garth Brooks song? Something about two piña coladas, and heartaches were cured by the sea.

It didn’t cure my heartache, but after a few hours I was beginning to feel like myself again. Sometimes things happen for a reason. I had been stuck in Haven trying to prove myself, when no one was looking for me to do that. I missed the store and I missed my customers. Most of all I missed the potential.

I could have pulled it off. If it wasn’t for Hans and his pyromaniacal tendencies, I could have had the best sales month of my career. I would have had a new place, new merchandise, and be on much more solid footing. Instead, it felt like my father won. Jack won. My landlord and the selectmen won.

It galled me that I lost through no fault of my own.

“It’s not fair,” I told the ocean. But it didn’t care.

I wanted to be back at the hotel before sunset, so I reluctantly brushed the sand off my ass and called another cab to take me back to the hotel. It wasn’t easy and I thought I’d have to call for an Uber, but I eventually got there. The air-conditioned lobby felt like heaven and I was looking forward to a shower. It wouldn’t be like showering on Rory’s yacht, but it also wouldn’t be like showering at the YMCA either.

A man in a trench coat stood up from one of the couches and walked over to me. I inwardly groaned. I hoped he wasn’t a flasher. But as he moved to intercept me on my path to the elevators, I whirled on him aggressively.

“What?” I snarled, loud enough that the desk clerk looked up.

He was a big bastard, with a broken nose and piercing dark eyes. “Whoa,” he said, holding up two hands. “I have a message from Mr. Parker for you.”

“What?” I blinked up at him. Rory sent a goon after me? Did he think I stole the necklace he gave me? I touched my throat.

He handed me a note card. It said, Don’t you fucking move. I’m on my way.

I had to read it twice. “This isn’t his handwriting,” I said accusingly.

“No, it’s mine. He dictated it from his plane.”

I must have heard him wrong. “You mean from the airport?”

“No, he was in the air. His personal jet just came into New York this morning from Vegas.”

Of course, he had a jet.

“Who are you and how did you find me?”

“I’m Stash Petrov.” He held out his hand. “I’m a private investigator.”

I shook his hand, feeling as if I was in a daze. “He hired a PI to find me?”

“I’m on retainer.” Stash shrugged. “If you’d like to check out of here, I can take you to Mr. Parker’s hotel.”

“Does he own that too?”

“Is the right answer yes?” he asked.

“Never mind, I’ll stay here. I’m paid through the week.”

Stash looked around the hotel. “I hope you didn’t pay much.”

“Is Rory really on the way here?”

He checked his phone. “He landed in LAX an hour ago. He should be here in an hour or so depending on traffic.”

“I’m going to go to my room and . . .” Freak out. “Freshen up. I’m in room 304.”

“I know.”

“Of course you do. Would you send him up when he gets here?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Stash took a seat in the lobby facing the door. I had a wild thought that if I tried to escape he’d follow me. “How did you find me?” I had to ask.

“You love Uber. We tracked down the driver that took you from the hospital and dropped you off at the train station. We accessed the cameras to find you and see what train you got on. We lost you briefly in Los Angeles, but I got a ping when you changed over your phone and then again when you accessed your mail. You threw me for a loop when you called a cab from the phone store, but the Internet café worker remembered you. We pulled up your search and I was able to track down what hotel you were staying at by calling and asking for your room.”

“That’s pretty impressive.”

“All in a day’s work.” He tipped an imaginary hat at me.

I went upstairs took the world’s quickest shower. Afterward, I flopped down on the bed. I read Rory’s words over and over again. He sounded pissed. What did he have to be pissed about? He broke up with me. I was still stewing when there was a heavy knock on my door. Peeking through the hole, I confirmed it was him. He was definitely pissed. But my heart was thumping with excitement rather than fear or anger. Opening the door, I was about to invite him in when he pushed me into the room and slammed the door with his foot.

“What?” I managed to get out before he yanked me into his arms and crashed his mouth down on mine in a bruising kiss. I fought back with my tongue ring until I realized that I was enjoying this way too much. He was crushing me, and I didn’t care. Oh what the hell. I gave into the heated kiss, resisting the urge to tear his shirt off.

Rory had no compunctions: the buttons on my cheap blouse bounced off the floor when he ripped it open. When he flipped my bra up, I launched myself on him. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I locked them around his torso. He staggered for a moment, sending us both onto the bed. We stripped each other, not caring what tore or was ruined, and then we were rolling around on the bed.

Rory did spare a glance at the envelope full of hundreds in my pants, but there was no time for explanations. He grabbed his own pants for a condom pack and came back to me.

As soon as the condom was on, he pushed inside me. No sweet murmurs, no checking if I was ready—boy was I. Rory slammed into me and fucked me with such force the bed springs protested. The headboard hammered the wall so hard the picture fell off the wall, narrowly missing our heads.

I tried to remember I was mad at him, but it was hard when his teeth were at my throat and his fingers were pinching my nipples. His hard cock drove into me until I joined the cacophony of sounds by moaning his name over and over again.

He came first with a shuddering growl that barely sounded human. I followed seconds later, watching the fierce lust turn into languorous pleasure. He was still fucking me while I held on to his shoulder gasping in contentment.

“Don’t . . . you . . . ever . . . fucking . . . do . . . that . . . again.” He accented each word with a hard thrust.

I trembled. “What? Come so hard I go blind?”

“Heh, no, that’s fine. I mean leave without a word. What the fuck were you thinking?”

I shoved him off me, ready for the fight now that my body had been satisfied. “You made it clear you were done with me. I had nothing left so I took off.”

“Are you out of your mind? I love you, you fucking idiot!” he shouted at me.

“I love you too, asshole. That’s why when you said I couldn’t stay with you on the yacht I figured you were too pissed about me lying to you. So that meant we were through!” I shouted back.

“I am pissed you lied. But I didn’t want to railroad you into living with me after only dating for a few months. I wanted you to get a fucking apartment and rebuild your fucking store.” His voice was only slightly less loud than a shout.

“I don’t have a fucking store. It burned the fuck down by your asshole crab puff friend.”

“I bought Larry out. They’re my fucking stores now. And I’m rebuilding yours with a legal apartment above it.”

“You . . .” I ran out of words. “You what?”

He flopped back onto the bed, removing the condom. “You’re exhausting and this mattress offends me.”

Slugging him in the arm, I confirmed what I thought I heard. “You’re rebuilding the shop with an apartment above the store?”

“Yes. For you. You crazy bitch.”

I launched myself into his arms. “I can’t believe this.”

He grunted and cuddled me closer. “I thought I lost you. You fucking disappeared. If it wasn’t for Stash, I think I would have lost my mind.”

Sighing, I snuggled into him. “I needed some space. My whole world had shattered. I needed to just get away.”

“You couldn’t have picked a nicer hotel?”

“Some of us aren’t billionaires, you stuck-up snob. This was all I could afford and I’ve paid for the week, so I’m staying here. Oh, I also got a job. I’m a receptionist for a tattoo parlor.”

“Or,” he said, “we can stay at the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills like civilized people and you’ll let me buy you a new wardrobe and a fucking Fendi purse.”

“Why would I do that?” I asked, leaning up on an elbow.

“Because, Ms. Independent, I will go down on you until you can’t remember your own name.”

“Deal.”