Chapter Thirty-Three
Dominic
There’s a sudden commotion in the bedroom. I abandon my coffee and run toward the sound of screaming and retching.
They’re coming from two different sources. The screaming’s coming from Elizabeth’s phone on the floor. The retching is from the bathroom.
Elizabeth is in there, her hands on the toilet as she heaves. Her entire body is shaking and shuddering so hard, I start to feel alarmed.
I place a hand on her back. “Easy, easy. What’s wrong?” She doesn’t answer. There’s still a cacophony of screaming and yelling coming from her phone, so I go over and pick it up. “This is Dominic King. What’s the problem?”
“Oh my God, oh my God, it’s a dog.”
“A dog?” I repeat stupidly.
“A puppy.”
The video jerks around. I can’t make out what I’m seeing precisely, but I can see there’s a box… “Someone sent you a puppy?” I ask, completely lost.
“Vacuum-sealed!” This is a new voice, gravelly and hysterical. “That’s why we couldn’t smell anything.”
I shove the back of my free hand over my mouth, feeling sick.
“It was addressed to Elizabeth.”
The screen finally stops moving, and I can make out what they saw. The puppy… It can’t be more than a week old. Some sick fuck vacuum-sealed the animal and spray-painted BITCH in hot pink on the bag.
“Don’t touch anything. Call the police, wait for them arrive. Let them handle it.” Most people in a panic tend to feel lost unless given specific instructions.
“Okay, okay.”
I hang up. Anger and nausea churn through me. A woman as beautiful and high-profile as Elizabeth will have her share of stalkers and creeps. But I never suspected this.
Jesus. A puppy.
I return to the bathroom. “Elizabeth.” I rub her back.
“I need some space,” she says, her voice rough. She’s finally stopped throwing up, but her hands are still shaking.
“Of course.”
Even as I say that, I hate she’s not turning to me for help and comfort. And I don’t even know why. It’s such a fucking perverse thing for me to be upset about, after wanting to tear her world apart. I tell myself it’s one thing to want to expose her for what she is, and something else to threaten and terrorize her like this.
I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her through the open door. After a while she stands up, her legs shaky. She splashes cold water on her face, then methodically blots it dry. Afterward, she brushes her teeth and gargles with mouthwash.
Her hands resting at the edge of the vanity, she stares at her reflection as though gathering herself before a battle. Somehow, her attempts to be strong and stand on her own cause my heart to pinch more than it would if she tried to lean on me.
Fuck it.
I get to my feet and cross the short distance. I put my right arm around her shoulders. This close, I can sense the tremors still running through her.
“You don’t have to stand alone.”
She stays stiff, her body rigid in an effort to remain upright.
I continue to keep my arm around her. Her gaze grows unsteady, and slowly she closes her eyes, leaning into me. I tighten my hold, longing to lend her my strength.
Gradually, the tremors subside. Opening her eyes, she covers my hand on her shoulder with hers. Her fingers wrap around mine, then she slowly pulls my hand down and lets it go.
“Thank you. But I’m all right now,” she says quietly.
I search her face, noting the pallor. “You don’t have to be strong, not when I’m—”
“I’m not trying to be anything.” She swallows, then lifts her eyes to mine. “It’s already late. I need to get ready.”
She walks away, and the absence of physical contact leaves me feeling bereft and slightly lost, as though I needed her to comfort me after seeing that terrible package.
While I watch, she puts on a set of nude lace underwear, a royal-blue silk dress and a pair of jaunty silver sandals. Then she grabs a bag of cosmetics and returns to the vanity. With deft touches, she applies makeup, covering up every sign of fatigue and worry, all the horrors she must’ve felt. Once she’s finished, I can’t tell anything is wrong.
“There’s going to be more partying,” Elizabeth says while packing everything back into her suitcase. “Ming Ming always celebrates her birthday over two days. You should get ready. Unless I’m mistaken, Zhao isn’t leaving for China until tonight.”
“You’re rejoining the party?” That’s got to be a bad idea.
“No. I’m flying back to L.A.”
I hate the idea of her returning to the city because I know she plans to go into the office. Besides, I can’t bear the fact that whatever sociopath sent her that box might be waiting.
“You should stay. There’s nothing you can do in L.A.”
“I’ve been away long enough, and we’re very busy this time of the year. I’ve already introduced you to the other major players you need, so…”
“Have you considered the idea that it might be safer in Kauai?”
She gives me a soft smile. But her eyes aren’t smiling. “This kind of stuff is par for the course. I’ll be fine.”
Par for the course? “Give me a few hours, and I’ll fly you back.”
“That won’t be necessary. There are plenty of commercial flights.”
“I insist. I’ve come here as your date. I’m responsible for your safety.”
She hesitates for a moment, but finally nods. “All right. Thanks.”
There’s a minute tremor underneath that last word. And I know I made the right decision.
While I put on a T-shirt and denim shorts, Elizabeth texts Ming Ming. We go downstairs to the lobby and spot her sipping a huge coffee, her small body virtually engulfed in a gigantic couch. Although the light is muted inside, she’s wearing a pair of dark sunglasses. The yellow of her sundress accentuates the sallowness of her complexion.
“I shouldn’t have drunk so much,” Ming Ming moans.
Elizabeth sits next to her and gives her a small smile. “You say that every birthday. But next year you’re going to do it again.”
Ming Ming starts to laugh, then winces, groaning softly. “It’s unfair how disgustingly healthy you look. I know you had enough vodka to fill a pool.” She cranes her neck to look at me. “Hi, Dominic. Can you sit down? It hurts to move my neck.”
I take the armchair next to Elizabeth. “Have you had any aspirin?”
Ming Ming makes a vague affirmative noise. “Half a bottle or so. Hard to say. But they take forever to work.” She takes another sip of her coffee. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”
“I need to leave today.”
Ming Ming sits up straight, then immediately regrets it. She puts a hand to her head. After a moment she says, “Why? We haven’t spent much time together yet.”
“Something came up,” Elizabeth says warmly. “But to make up for this, if you visit me in L.A., I’ll let you stay at Ryder’s Hollywood mansion.”
“Ooh. I know I shouldn’t be saying this because he’s your brother—and married and all—but he’s so hot.” Ming Ming winces again. “If my head didn’t hurt so much, I’d get up and hug you.”
Elizabeth laughs, then leans close to Ming Ming and whispers something I can’t quite hear. Ming Ming’s forehead creases as she listens, then she says, “He isn’t even really my guest. So don’t worry.”
Finally, a genuine smile crosses Elizabeth’s lips. “That’s good to hear. I’ll call you when I’m back in L.A.”
Elizabeth stands, and I do the same, placing a hand at the small of her back.
As we start to walk away, Ming Ming says, “Give your brother a kiss from me.”
Elizabeth looks at her friend over a shoulder. “Which one?” she says in a teasing voice.
“The best-looking one, of course.”