Текст книги "Behind Your Back"

Автор книги: Chelsea M. Cameron

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

 

Twenty-One

 

Saturday afternoon, I pick Saige up at her place. I can’t visit Lizzy this week, but I called her and let her know. She sounded sad, but she said it was fine. That she loved me anyway. Thank God someone did.

“Are you moving in with me?” I joke as Saige skips down the stairs with a garment bag over her arm and a huge bag full of who knows what.

“Hey, it takes a lot to get me ready to see my folks. My mother notices everything and if my makeup isn’t up to her standards, I’m going to get a lecture. My goal is to get out of there with only one, which is pushing it.”

She throws the stuff in the backseat and gets in the front, giving me a quick kiss.

“Your parents don’t approve of you?” I ask. I’m interested to hear her side of that story.

She snorts a little as I pull out onto the street.

“You could say that. I’m not exactly what they had in mind when they decided to have children. And then they only had me, so it’s not like they got one to be their golden child and another to screw things up.” I knew that as well.

“Why didn’t they have more?” Why am I asking this? It doesn’t matter. But I want to know more about her anyway. It’s like a compulsion I can’t stop.

“They tried. It didn’t work out.” She turns and looks out the window and I can tell there’s more to that story, but if she can respect my boundaries and not talk about my family, I can respect hers.

“Hmm,” I say, to let her know I’m listening. She turns on the radio and we pretend to fight over which station to choose. We’re still undecided when I pull up in front of the apartment and park.

“Wow. Swanky,” she says, looking out the window and up at the glossy building. It’s everything new and modern and chrome and steel and glass. Cold and unemotional. I got to pick this one and Cash absolutely hates it. He wanted a brownstone in a different part of the city, but we all vetoed that choice.

“Thanks. It works for what I need it for.” I get out and help her with her stuff. The bag she’s brought is much heavier than I thought it would be.

“Do you have bricks in here?” I joke as we walk up the steps and I swipe a card to get into the building. In addition to this place being cold and unemotional, it’s also high tech, which is another reason we picked it. You need a key card to get in and you need a key card to unlock your door and if you don’t have that, then a fingerprint.

“Brrr,” she says as the cold air blasts us. It’s always cold in here, which just adds to the whole persona of the building.

We head for the elevator and I take her up to the fourteenth floor.

“This isn’t what I expected,” she says, looking around as we step out of the elevator.

“What did you expect?” I say.

She shrugs.

“I don’t know. Something warmer. More homey. Maybe with a ratty couch you had from college or something. More of a bachelor pad than… this.” She motions down the black marbled hallway.

“Come on,” I say and we go to “my” door. I swipe my card and the door unlocks. I came here yesterday to make sure it was clean up to my standards and to put some food in the fridge and the pantry.

“Wow,” Saige says, coming in after me. “Yeah, this is definitely not what I thought of.” The best word to describe the place is sparse. Barely any furniture and what there is, is black and grey. No personal pictures and only a few photographs on the wall. I made sure to put up some Ansel Adams so there is a little bit of Sylas. The kitchen is all stainless steel and granite and the bedroom is also done in silver and black.

Saige walks across the living room to look out the enormous window that looks out over the city.

“Great view, though,” she says, speaking to me over her shoulder.

“That’s what sold me on the place. The view.” I’m not exactly talking about what’s outside the windows. She’s casual again, with just a pair of jeans, a loose top and her hair twisted into a knot on the very top of her head. Her face is free of makeup for now and her eyes are so unbelievably green they don’t look real.

“So is there anything I should know about?”

“Huh?” She’s been busy staring at the view and I’ve been busy staring at her.

“About going to your parents’ house. Is there anything I should know? I don’t want to commit a faux pas if I can help it, and I definitely don’t want to get lectured.”

She laughs and comes back over to me.

“You’ll be fine. Just be yourself. I’ve never seen you ruffled under any circumstances. My mother is usually so focused on telling me how much I’m disappointing her that she probably won’t even notice you. They were on their very best public behavior at the benefit.” I had the feeling. People are so much different when they are in their own homes and there isn’t an audience.

“Well, just let me know if I’m doing something wrong.”

“Will do,” she says, picking up her bags. “Bathroom?”

I point in the right direction and she marches off. I go to the bedroom and pull out my suit for the evening, along with my shirt, tie and undergarments. There’s a knock at the door as I’m pulling my shirt over my head. I’d shaved and showered before picking Saige up, so all I need to do is get dressed basically.

“Yeah?” Saige pokes her head in.

“What are you wearing?” I motion to the bed. She comes in and inspects the outfit.

“Okay. I just didn’t want to clash with you. I brought three dresses.”

“No wonder your bag is so heavy,” I say, shaking my head at her.

“Hey, it’s much more work being a girl. You have no idea.” My mother used to take such care with her makeup. It was mesmerizing to watch her slowly slick on her lipstick, making sure it was absolutely perfect.

“Can I see the choices? Since you’re allowed to see my outfit,” I say and she goes to get the candidates. She moves my suit over and sets each dress out beside it, like they’re a couple without people inside them.

The choices are a nude dress, a black one and a grey one with black panels on the sides.

“I usually wear black because it pisses my mom off. If she had it her way, I’d be dressed in any color but that.”

“Well, how about a compromise? The grey has black in it.” She nods.

“That’s what I was thinking. Okay, thank you. Oh, another question. Hair up or down?” I like it either way, but I’m sure he mother would want it up in a respectable bun.

“Down. Definitely down,” I say and she presses up on her toes to give me a kiss.

“Did you ever take dance?” I blurt out.

“I did ballet for a few years. On pointe and everything.” She pops herself up on just her toes like it’s absolutely nothing to defy gravity that way. Her arms go up and she poses. She has a dancer’s body.

“Why do you ask?” she says, coming down and pointing one foot out in front of her.

“Just wondering.” I shrug it off and she picks up the black and grey dress.

“I’ll be back.” She skips off and I go back to getting dressed.

Saige doesn’t take as long as I thought she would to get ready. When she finally walks out of the bathroom she’s transformed. Her eye makeup is a little more reserved than normal, but her lips are, and always will be, red.

“You like?” she says, twirling on her toes with her arms above her head.

“You look quite respectable to me.”

“And that will still not be enough for my mother. But you look really nice,” she says, tugging on my red silk tie.

“I thought I’d be a little daring tonight,” I say. She pulls me down and I think she’s going to kiss me, but she pulls back at the last second.

“Lipstick,” she says, pointing to her lips. “After the dinner, we can mess it up. But not before.” I agree, but I really don’t want to. I want to march her back to the bedroom and say fuck her parents and stay here. But I’ll get her later, so I have that at least to look forward to.

I just have to get through the next few hours.

It’s amazing what you can find online if you look hard enough. When I’d first taken on Mr. Beaumont, Cash had found pictures of the interior and exterior of their house. They’d bought it six years ago and the pictures from the real estate listing were still lurking around in the back room of the internet.

The place is impressive, as it should be. It was built with dirty, bloody money.

Saige makes a face as I pull into the circular driveway.

“I hate coming here.”

“Why?”

“Because this house is just so… Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. I mean, I know it’s technically my family’s house, but it just seems like a bit much, don’t you think?” I agree with her more than she can possibly know.

“Well, your father has worked hard for his money and I guess he decides how he spends it.” She frowns a little as I turn the car off. I stopped on the way to get some flowers for her mother, white lilies at Saige’s suggestion, and I grab them out of the backseat before going around to help Saige.

“You ready?” she says, straightening my tie.

“Absolutely.” I smile at her and we walk toward the front door.

I ring the doorbell and a maid answers it. She’s not in a full uniform, but it’s easy to tell what her job is.

“Hello, Martha,” Saige says, giving the woman a warm smile.

“Good evening, Miss Saige, Mr. Brand. Please come in.” She steps back and even though I’ve seen pictures of the foyer, it’s still a visual punch.

Opulence. Excess. Money dripping from every surface.

“It’s a bit much,” Saige says in my ear as Martha leads the way to what I assume is going to be a sitting room.

Saige’s parents are clearly very into gold and warm colors because they’re splashed everywhere. It’s like they’re trying to say “We’re rich, just look at our house!” It’s… definitely too much. And it makes me sick.

Martha leads us past an enormous set of stairs and into a large sitting room filled with what look like extremely uncomfortable chairs and couches. There’s a fireplace at each end and the windows reach all the way to the ceiling.

“We’re here,” Saige calls and her parents turn around. They’re at the other end of the room. Her mother hands her father a drink from a little cart as he sits in front of the fireplace on one of the gold-upholstered chairs. He stands when he hears Saige’s voice.

“It’s nice to see you again so soon, Quinn,” he says, setting his drink down and holding his hand out. I shake it and then present the flowers to her mother.

She offers her appreciation, but the ice in her smile doesn’t melt. This woman is cold, cold, cold. Saige is nothing like either of her parents.

“Can I get either of you a drink?” she says, sweeping her hand toward the cart.

“Jack on the rocks if you have it,” I say. It might not be the fanciest drink, but I need it right now.

“Saige?” Bridgette says, turning to her daughter as she uses a set of gold tongs to drop ice cubes in a glass for me.

“The same,” she says with a little smile. Her mother shoots her a glare and she sighs.

“Fine. Glass of pinot.” Her mother nods, as if that was the response she wanted all along.

“So, Quinn,” Beaumont says to me as Bridgette hands me my drink and I take a bracing sip. “You seem to be very interested in my daughter.” The reminder of his threat is unspoken, but I get the message loud and clear.

“Yes, sir. She’s a very special woman.” Saige beams up at me.

“Leave him alone, Daddy. He’s a good guy.” We all take our drinks and sit, me on the couch with Saige and her parents on the other facing us. I feel the weight of both their stares and in this environment, it’s intimidating.

“How is school going, Saige?” Bridgette says, uttering the word “school” like it’s dirty, or tastes bad in her mouth.

“It’s going really well, actually. I had an intense week, but now it’s going to calm down. And one of my professors thinks he can get me an internship at a gallery.” Saige’s hand creeps toward me and I take it in mine. She gives me a little squeeze.

Her mother looks at her as if she’s just announced she’s dropping out of school and has decided to dance naked for cash. Such strange people with strange values. If I didn’t hate them already, I’d be well on my way.

“Work for free?” Bridgette says. Her father is just watching us. Me and Saige, and especially me. Nothing escapes this man’s notice and while his wife is focused on their daughter’s life, he’s got his eye on me.

“Yes, that’s what an internship is, Mom,” Saige says. “But I don’t know if I’m going to have time to do it.” That seems to mollify her mother a little.

“How’s work for you, Quinn?” Beaumont asks.

“It’s going very well, thanks for asking. It’s not easy managing money that isn’t mine. If I make a mistake, I’m in deep trouble.” I add the last part with a smile and a little laugh.

“That is a lot of responsibility,” he says, sipping his drink. I sip mine and our eyes lock.

“It is, but I take my job very seriously. I’m more careful with my clients’ money than I am with my own.” He nods in my direction.

“Good. That’s good.” The topic shifts back to Saige and the heat is off me for the time being. Martha comes and announces dinner and it’s a voyage to the other side of the house where the formal dining room is. I can’t believe they don’t see the ridiculousness of four people sitting at a table made for twenty.

The food is “rich people food” as Saige said. Small bites on large plates. It’s all delicious of course, but I’m sure we’re both going to have to eat again when we get back to the apartment.

“Now what about your family, Quinn?” Bridgette asks. Shit. Saige grips my hand under the table.

“Well, I don’t really talk about them. It’s kind of a sore topic.” There’s not a better way I can put it than that.

“Well then we won’t ask you about it,” Beaumont says, coming in and putting an end to the conversation. His wife shoots him a look, but he pretends not to see it.

“Thank you. It’s just not something I like to talk about.” Saige squeezes my hand again.

We make it through the rest of the dinner and into dessert (assorted truffles) without Saige’s mother criticizing her.

“Dear, I wish you’d worn that cute cream dress I bought you last week. It would look just darling on you.” I nearly choke on my truffle and have to take a few deep breaths before I swallow. The way she talks is so pretentious and just… I can’t stand it. I want to get out of here as fast as I can, but that’s not really an option. I need Saige to give me a tour of the house and that’s only going to happen after we’ve gotten through this insufferable dinner.

We make it to coffee and her father is the one who suggests Saige take me on a tour.

“You don’t have to,” she says in my ear.

“No, show me. I want to see your room,” I say as I help her up from the table.

“You’re not fucking me in this house. So get that idea out of your head right now.” That hadn’t really occurred to me before she said it, but now it’s given my cock ideas and we need to get away from her parents before they see those ideas in my pants.

“Thank you for the meal, it was lovely,” I say and Bridgette says she’ll pas the compliments along to the chef. Surprisingly, I haven’t been interrogated or questioned as much as I thought I would be. Maybe because it’s my first dinner here and they want to lull me into a false sense of security. That has to be it. Well, next time I come here I’ll be placing bugs everywhere to do surveillance. I smile to myself thinking about it. Thinking about taking them down. Demolishing this cushy life they’ve built for themselves. And then I think of Saige.

I know she has a trust fund that pays for everything and I have no intentions to touch that. She is not her parents. She’ll be left alone. I at least owe her that. And I don’t see her ever turning into them, either. Living in a house like this, doing whatever she can to get more money to fill up the empty places in her soul that can’t be filled.

Saige isn’t empty. She doesn’t need that validation. She’ll be absolutely fine.

“How are you holding up?” she asks me when we’re out of earshot of her parents.

“Fine. They’re not quite as bad as you made them out to be,” I say with a grin.

“Yeah, you think that now. Okay, so I guess I should give you the grand tour.” We walk through the downstairs first, including the living room we had drinks in, and a study that looks as if it’s unused. It’s filled to the brim with leather-bound books.

“I’m pretty sure no one has ever read these. They’re just for show,” Saige says, brushing her hand across one row of spines. “I mean, I’ve read a few, but these are all books people say they read, but never actually do.” I know what she means.

As she shows me the house, I’m taking note of windows, views and any surveillance already in place. So far I’m not seeing any, but I make note of the security system on the wall beside the front door. Cash could crack it in his sleep. So that’s one positive.

“And that’s my dad’s office,” Saige says, waving her hand at a door along one of the hallways on the first floor. I don’t ask to go in, but I don’t need to. Now I know where it’s located in the house so I can find it next time. And wouldn’t you know, it’s right next to a downstairs powder room. Thank you, Beaumont, for making my job disgustingly easy.

We ascend the stairs and Saige shows me more rooms no one uses. Most she doesn’t even bother to take me into.

“And this is my room,” she says, opening the last door on at the end of a hallway.

I nearly burst out laughing as we walk in.

“Let me guess, your mother decorated it,” I say.

“You got that right.” The room matches the rest of the house, but it’s girly and frilly and so un-Saige it’s obvious her mother has no idea who she is. Or she is determined that if she decorates her room a certain way, Saige will morph into the daughter she wants.

“I was never allowed to change it,” she says, climbing onto the fluffy bed with a white canopy over it. This is a little girl’s princess room. Not a room for a grown woman. No one over the age of six should live in this room.

She flops back on the mound of pillows and pats the spot next to her. The bed is so large that if we wanted to add another person, they would fit no problem.

Saige and I lay side-by-side, staring up at the white canopy.

“They want me to move back here. Quit school and be their dutiful daughter.” I can imagine.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“I know what I want. I’m already doing it. I spent a few years where I couldn’t make up my mind, but it was because of them. Because I felt so strangled when I was growing up. When I got my first taste of freedom I went nuts and wanted to do everything. I like to think I’ve settled down a little since then.” She turns her head to the side and I do as well. Our noses are nearly touching.

“It’s too bad they can’t see how amazing you are,” I say.

“Well, as long as someone thinks I’m amazing, that’s all that matters.” She smiles and presses her face forward. I think she only means to give me a peck of gratitude, but our mouths have other ideas.

Once I get a taste of her, I need more. She has to grab my chin and force my face away.

“No. We can’t. That’s not what I brought you up here for.” She rolls off the bed and then crouches down. I turn onto my stomach and scoot so I can see what she’s doing.

“I might not be able to decorate my room how I wanted, but that didn’t stop me from being a little rebellious.” She takes a box out from under her bed and drops it on the white frilly comforter. It’s simple and black, like a footlocker, only smaller. She holds up a finger for me to wait and then goes into her closet and emerges with a key.

“I knew the maids would find this, but they could never find the key, so my mom could never snoop. I hid things under the floorboards in our last house, but that didn’t work here.” The flooring is laminate and covered in plush rugs.

She fiddles with the key and then pops the top. The box is filled with pictures and jewelry and even a few clothes. I pick one photograph off the top and look at it. It’s Saige when she was a teenager and there’s a hoop through her septum, with little balls on the ends of it. It’s… sexy. Very, very sexy on her.

“Oh yeah,” she says, taking the picture from me. “I was sixteen when I did that. I wanted to get my nose done, but there was no way to hide it really. That one I could just flip up. Never got caught either.” She pulls out a little box and shows me the jewelry.

“I’d almost forgotten about it. I wonder if I still have the hole.” She unscrews one of the little balls and proceeds to try to thread the thing through her nose. She winces a few times, but gets it through.

Fuck.

“You like?” she says, smiling at me.

“Like is an understatement. Why don’t you wear it anymore?” She shrugs and takes it out, unscrewing the other ball back on. She holds it out in her palm.

“Put it in your pocket. Maybe I’ll start wearing it again.” And doesn’t that just turn me on even more than I already am. If she’s not careful, I’m going to have to fuck her here, even if her parents are downstairs.

She pulls out some of the other things, talking about rebellions both big and small.

“It was mostly stupid stuff. Typical. I never did anything really bad. And I was very good at not getting caught,” she says with a smirk.

“I have no doubt you were.” I’d tell her about my own youthful indiscretions, but I have to be Quinn. Not Sylas.

“Anyway, I just wanted you to know that even though they’re my parents, I’m nothing like them. I don’t want the same things they want.” It’s like she read my mind from my earlier thoughts.

I reach out and stroke her cheek.

“I know. You’re everything they’re not.” She can’t know how true this is.

“Why thank you,” she says, leaning her face into my hand. We stay like that for a moment and then she seems to shake herself.

“Okay, we can’t stay up here for too long or Mom will send Martha to check something and she won’t knock before she barges in. She’s Mom’s eyes and ears.” I have no doubt about that.

She puts the things back in the box, except for the ring that’s now safely in pocket and locks it before putting the key back in her secret hiding place in her closet. I wish there were some way to come back here and steal the box so I could have all the time I want to with it. I want to crawl inside her life. I can’t deny it anymore. I want her body, but I want everything else too. I want her past. Even if I’m going to leave. It doesn’t stop me from wanting.

She moves toward the door, but I don’t get up from the bed. I just want to stay here for a few more minutes.

“You coming?” she asks, hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah,” I say, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and standing.

When we make our way back downstairs we find Bridgette and Beaumont arguing softly. They cut it out the second they see us coming down the stairs and put on fake smiles.

“Well, I think we’re going to get going,” Saige says. “Thanks for dinner, Mom.” She leans forward and gives her mother a kiss on one cheek and then the other.

“Thank you, Mrs. Beaumont, it was lovely,” I say.

“You’re very welcome, it was wonderful to see you again.” Her tone leaves a little bit to be desired in the “wonderful” department. Saige is saying goodbye to her father with a hug. It’s clear the two are much closer than Saige and her mother. I shake Beaumont’s hand and he squeezes just a little too hard. I let him do it and hide my wince.

Finally, I’m out the door with Saige and glad for it.

“You survived,” she says, putting her arm around my waist.

“I did. And it wasn’t even that bad. You had me very worried there, Saige.”

She pushes her hip into me and I almost stumble. She just laughs.

“I’m going to get you for that.” I swing her around in front of me. We’re right in front of the house and I’m sure her parents are watching. Fuck it.

“Oh yeah?” she says, looking up at me, her face full of defiance.

“I’m going to get you so good.” I slide my hands down her back and grab both her ass cheeks, making her jump.

“Then let’s go back to your place.” I back her up until she’s pressed against my car. I’d love to work her over right in the driveway. It would really stick it to Beaumont, but I know that wouldn’t go over very well.

So instead I reach around her and open the door, shoving her playfully into the front seat. She protests, but it’s a cute sound and she’s not serious.

I wait until she’s all the way in and shut the door. Something moves in my peripheral vision and I see a face at one of the gigantic windows watching me. Beaumont. His eyes are hard, but he smiles as he holds a drink in the air, like he’s toasting me. I just nod and get in the car.