Текст книги "Child Star: Part 3"
Автор книги: J. J. McAvoy
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 8 страниц)
The floodgates of hell were opening up, and all I could do was laugh.
“Noah?” Amelia sounded concerned.
Shaking my head at her, I couldn’t help it. “Amelia, my father is now a wanted man with $265 million of debt over his head. Both he and Bo will be hung out to dry. Who do you think is left holding the shit? I can’t catch a fucking break. It’s always one thing after another.”
Every time I felt like I escaped Chicago, the Southbend, I was being dragged back in. If this weren’t my life, I would have thought it was one shitty movie.
“I’m worth $73 million,” Amelia whispered beside me, squeezing my hand. I looked at her, and she just brightly smiled at me. “Whatever happens, I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure it out—with the help of our trusty manager, that is.”
We both looked to Austin. Frowning, he started to dial.
“I hate you both,” he said, walking toward the kitchen.
Sometimes God fucks up with our families and has to make it up with other people in our lives. Amelia and Austin—they are my family.
Chapter Four
Amelia
I called.
I texted.
I emailed.
I called again.
Still, I could not get in touch with Sheldon, and even if I did, I still wasn’t sure what I could say. Hey, I’m sorry sold you out to the mafia. The mafia? Since when was that still a thing? The longer I stayed with Noah, the more my eyes were forced open, and I wasn’t sure if I liked what I was seeing anymore.
“Are you scared?” Noah asked me softly as his driver and bodyguard, Daniel, drove us to my photo shoot. We were late, much to Austin’s annoyance, which forced him to leave earlier. But it really was the least of our problems.
“I’m not scared,” I finally replied.
“Just like you weren’t scared of that lion when we were kids?” he asked with a smile.
“I was not scared!” I argued like a child, and he just smiled at me. His blue-green eyes focused only on me so intensely, I stopped breathing for a moment. “Shut up,” I muttered, turning away.
Lifting my hand up, he kissed it. “Honestly, I’m afraid.”
“What?” I faced him again.
He nodded. “Growing up, the scariest man in my life was my father, and I would never forget how terrified he was of the Callahans. They’ve been getting away with their double lives for decades. When they want something, they get it,” he whispered. For the first time, I had seen him truly afraid. Even when he told me about Esther, even when he found me covered in her blood, he never once looked afraid. He was always a rock. My rock. And now, I would be his.
“I was scared of the lion,” I admitted, leaning into him.
“It was obvious.”
“Shut up,” I laughed before becoming serious. “I was scared of the lion. I’m not scared of the Callahans or your father or anything. Call me naïve or just stupid, but I honestly believe we’ll be okay. We haven’t gone through all of this just to be hunted by the mafia. Seriously, Noah—the mafia?”
“You’re crazy,” he said, despite the grin on his face.
“You made me this way—oh, wow,” I whispered as this beautiful Spanish-Colonial style mansion seated on acres upon acres of grassy hillside came into view. By the time Daniel pulled up, the gate was already open, and I was sort of annoyed by the crew and setup that covered the front entrance because they blocked most of the flowers and statues that lined the sides.
“I want this house,” I whispered to myself.
“You hate Pelican Point and Orange County,” Noah reminded me, taking off his seat belt. And it was true. Esther wanted me to buy a house here, but I couldn’t deal with a dozen other housewives just like her as neighbors and begged Oliver to help me stop her.
But damn, the house was gorgeous. “I would welcome Pelican Point and Orange County for this house.”
“Then you’ll only have $60 million, and what can I do with that?” Noah joked, winking at me before stepping out of the car.
“Ass,” I coughed.
“Did you just ‘ass’-cough me?” he said far too loudly, causing more than a few people to glance at us.
“You are not funny,” I muttered, elbowing him.
“It was a little funny.”
“Sometimes, I swear you are—”
“Amelia,” a voice said. We both turned to find Austin coming out of the house with a short, older Asian woman, her hair cut into a short bob. In her wrinkled white hands was a black camera. “I’d like you to meet—”
“Hanako Sugiyama,” I finished for him, stepping forward. “Ma’am, it’s so amazing to meet you. I love your photography.”
“’Ma’am’?” She tilted her head. “Do I look like a ‘ma’am’ to you?”
You sound like one.
“Be nice, Hanako,” Noah grinned, leaning in for a hug and kissing both of her cheeks. She made a face at him and smacked his arms.
“Don’t even get me started with you. You promised to do the Somerfall spread and backed out last minute.”
“It was three years ago, and I had the flu—”
“Don’t care, and don’t care,” she snapped at him. The fact that Noah towered over her and she was the intimidating one was just too funny. “I actually know how you can make it up to me.”
“How—”
“You’ll join the shoot—for free.”
Austin stepped up. “Hanako, this Amelia’s shoot.”
Her dark black eyes shifted over to me, and I raised my hands up. “I don’t mind.”
“Then it’s settled.” She nodded to herself happily and walked back into the house.
“Hanako!” Austin called after her before turning back to me. “Really?”
I shrugged. “What? I don’t mind—”
“Not what he’s annoyed about,” Noah replied, pulling out a cigarette. “He’s pissed I’m doing the shoot for free.”
Austin opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but then stopped, glaring at Noah before heading back into the house.
“Who’s going to give him gray hair now?” I said, following him inside. Two double staircases sat under a large crystal chandler. My heels clicked against the marble floor as I walked to the center of the foyer. There on the ground was a cursive ‘G.’
“Still want this house?” Noah said when he walked up beside me.
“That might be a problem.”
There, coming down the stairs, had to be the most handsome man I’d ever seen, aside from Noah. He was dressed in a light gray fitted suit and a light blue shirt with no tie and the top buttons undone. His brown hair was messy, and his green eyes were identical to those of the little boy in his arms, who was equally well-dressed in a bow tie and khakis. The man walked down the stairs with a wicked smirk on his lips as he looked us over.
“You see, my wife is really attached to this house,” he said, shifting the boy up in his arms. The boy rested his head on his father’s shoulder and waved at me.
“Hi!” I waved back, leaning closer. “Your mommy has good taste.”
“Say hi, Ethan.” The man tried to get his son to show more of his face, but the boy only clung more tightly to his neck. “Excuse him. He’s shy.”
“No, he’s so cute. How old is he?”
“Three—”
“And half,” the boy cut in, holding out his fingers to explain.
His father rolled his eyes. “Excuse me—three and a half.”
“Ms. London,” a voice called. I turned away from them and toward the photography assistant who was waiting with three other people behind her. “We need to get you prepped for the shoot.”
I nodded and faced the man in front of me again. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr…”
“Liam is fine.”
“Liam,” I repeated, leaning back down to wave at his son. “It was a pleasure to meet you both. Bye, Ethan.”
“Bye-bye,” Ethan replied softly.
He is too cute.
I looked to Noah, who just nodded for me to go without him. Confused, I didn’t push him, but headed toward the prep area.
“Noah Sloan and Liam Callahan … it should be a sin for them to be in the same room at the same time,” one woman whispered.
I froze mid-step. Everything slowed down, and I could clearly hear each beat of my heart. Noticing I wasn’t following them, one of the women turned back to me wide-eyed. She muttered something to the woman who had spoken before and then turned to face me.
“Ms. London, I’m sorry. She can be careless—”
“Liam Callahan?” I asked her.
Confused, she nodded, looking back behind me. “Yes, the Callahans gracefully allowed us to shoot in their mansion. This morning, the other venue backed out at the last minute. We are so lucky; there have never been any photo-shoots done here before.”
I didn’t want to turn back around, but when I did, they were already walking somewhere.
“Is something wrong, Ms. London?”
Everything. Everything was wrong with this.
Noah
“Your woman’s cute.” Liam glanced back over to Amelia as she spoke to the staff. “A little naïve, but cute. Must be very different from the women in the Southbend.”
“I haven’t been back there since I was a teenager. I wouldn’t know what the women are or aren’t like.”
Liam raised an eyebrow. “You only get one lie with me. Do you really want it to be that one?”
I said nothing. He had stepped down those stairs like the devil himself, and his son in his hands did nothing to hide that fact. It proved that even the devil loves his kid. I didn’t say anything while he spoke to Amelia, hoping he wouldn’t involve her in this, and luckily, he played dumb as well.
“Let’s talk, Mr. Sloan,” he stated, giving me no room to argue. He walked around me toward the east side of mansion, going behind one of the staircases. I noticed there were no photos in the house, nothing that made it looked lived in. If it weren’t for the noise of the crew setting up for the shoot, the house would have been eerily quiet. Finally, he stopped at a pair of brown French doors leading into a study overlooking the pool and all of Santa Ana.
“Please have a seat while I try to figure out this damn thing,” he muttered, crouching down in front of small wooden desk set. He pulled out the chair seating his son before opening a drawer and pulling out some blocks for him. When his son started to play he stood up straighter, turning to me. “There we go. Sorry about that—the struggle of being a working father. You know how it is.”
“I don’t have any children,” I replied, taking a seat in front of his desk.
“Right,” he said, pulling out a bottle of brandy. “The baby whose hospital bills you paid for—she’s your brother’s child correct?”
“Yes,” I answered when he offered me glass. “I’m good.”
He didn’t drop his hand. “When an Irishman hands you a drink, you take it.”
“I’m Scottish.”
The corner of his mouth turned up, and he downed the glass himself. “You pulled yourself out of the slums, you’ve made something of yourself, and you’ve got balls. I like you, Noah … but your family is another case altogether. Scottish, Irish—it doesn’t matter. You’re from the Southbend, so I’m sure you know who I am. You know the rules, and your father broke them. Custom says that I kill you, your brother, his family, and then him, because you and I both know he doesn’t have the money to pay me back.”
“I’ve never been one for custom,” I replied, leaning back into the chair, “but then again, neither are you. After all, you are here instead of out on a murder spree.”
“Not because I don’t want be,” he snapped, glaring into me. “You father lost over $200 million dollars, my fucking money, and now he’s in the wind along with your idiot brother. The only person I can get my hands on at the moment is you. That’s an annoyance in and of itself because you’re a movie star, which means people would actually give a damn if you went missing. And I could waste my time thinking of an elaborate way to get to you, but for what? You only serve as your father’s ATM. I want Frank. I wanted him yesterday, and so you, Noah Sloan, will bring him to me before my annoyance turns to full-blown anger.”
“I thought the Callahan network was vast and undeniable? You say you want him, and in enough time, someone somewhere will find him—”
“But I don’t want someone, somewhere. I want it to be you.” He frowned, stood up, and walked over to the windows. “I may not kill you, but you and your family will take a beating just like any other family that gets in my way. Your father will die because you turned him in to me. If you fail, well … you don’t want to fail. Not if you want to see a future with Ms. London.”
“Threaten her, touch her—in any way, shape, or form—and I swear to God, I don’t care what your last name is, I will come for you.”
“I’m terrified. No, really, I am,” Liam snickered, not even bothering to glance back at me. “But I’m not the man you should be threatening. Not only is it useless, but I’m also not your enemy. I’m just a businessman protecting his interest. It was your father who used you and her as collateral. So my question to you is, who are you more loyal to: her, or Frank?”
“Dada! Dada!” Ethan cried out, smashing the blocks on his table. I had forgotten about his presence.
“Looks like our meeting’s over. I’m sure you can show yourself out. Enjoy your photo shoot.” He walked over to his son, a smile on his face as he grabbed Ethan’s sides, tickling him. How in the hell he could talk about wiping out someone’s family one minute and be so caring about his own was haunting.
Closing the doors behind me, I took a deep breath. The only upside of all of this was when I found Frank, it would literally be the last time we met.
Who am I more loyal to? It wasn’t even a question.
I retraced my steps back to the front, where Austin stood waiting for me. He looked me over once, and I nodded, letting him know I was fine.
“Liam Callahan,” he said.
“In the flesh,” I replied. I needed a fucking smoke. “He even brought his son along.”
“The venue was changed at the last minute. I didn’t have time to check,” Austin said.
“That’s what he wanted.” Everything he was doing was to prove a point. Having the ability to change Amelia’s shooting location, bring me to him, displaying his kid in of us—his message was clear. He wasn’t even the least bit worried about me. I couldn’t touch him, but he could fuck with me in the blink of an eye.
“He wants you to sell out your father,” Austin said, not even trying to pose it as a question. But what else could Liam Callahan want with me?
“Mr. Sloan, we’re ready for you.” The same photography assistant who had called Amelia earlier appeared in front of us again.
“I’m heading back to Chicago after this,” I told Austin as I walked toward the assistant.
“Thank you so much for agreeing to do this shoot, Mr. Sloan. Everyone is obsessed with you, too.”
That was the problem.
“Beautiful, Amelia,” I heard Hanako say. We walked past the large pool, and Amelia leaned against the pool wall dressed in a strapless red swimsuit, glowering into the camera sensually, her pink lips parted slightly.
While whole world was watching me, I was always stuck watching her.
Amelia
When he came out, dressed only in his black boxer briefs since they hadn’t prepared anything for him, I let go of the breath I was holding. I had told Austin to immediately find out who it was we were talking to, but I wasn’t sure if that made any difference whatsoever.
“Jump in with her,” Hanako directed.
Noah nodded, but instead of slipping into the pool slowly, he backed away.
“Noah, don’t you—”
Too late. He ran for it, and I prepared myself for the wave of water that would surely mess up what the stylist had done to my hair. In the background, I heard the cameras click away as the wave hit me.
“Agh!” I screamed when his hands grabbed my legs, pulling me under with him. Bubbles all around us, he kissed me, and instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, his arms wrapping around my waist.
We stayed under there until our lungs forced us back to the surface. As I gasped for air and wiped the water from my eyes to glare at him, I couldn’t talk because of that damn grin of his.
“There are easier ways to tell me you are okay,” I whispered.
“But are there better ways?” He lifted my chin, leaning into me again.
“Hold it,” Hanako yelled at us, and he froze, remembering that we were working and that this wasn’t our pool.
“Okay, Noah. Lift her up out of the water for me, and Amelia, can you look down at him?” Following her directions, I was able to stare into his eyes. Despite his smile and the love I knew he had for me, though, I could still see the pain in his eyes. We were just trying to live—why was it so messy?
This was the only simple moment of my life—when he was holding me.
“I love you.” They were the only three words I could think to say. It was my promise. I would love him no matter what.
Chapter Five
Noah
Chicago.
“They tell me you are wicked, and I believe them. They tell me you are crooked, and I answer: Yes. Gunmen kill and go free to kill again. Flinging magnetic curses, fierce as a dog, cunning as a savage pitted against the wilderness. Stormy, husky, brawling, the City of the Big Shoulders,” I whispered, blowing smoke out the crack of the window and staring up at the buildings above me as they passed by in a blur of blue and gray. No matter what, there was always a gray glow over the city.
“Who was that from?” Amelia asked.
I glanced down at her as she rested her head on my shoulder.
“Why couldn’t I have come up with that?” I questioned, and she didn’t answer. Apparently I wasn’t poetic. “Carl Sandburg. But I butchered it.”
It was one of my favorite poems because it was the only one that adequately described what it was like to be from this city. The love/hate relationship we all had, the relief we felt to leave, and the relief we felt to come back. It was always trying to kill us, and we were always fighting to live anyway. If you could survive here, you could survive anywhere. That was the lesson I had learned.
“Amelia, we’re here,” Austin said when the car came to a stop.
She didn’t move.
“Amelia.”
Sighing, she sat up, her face whipping back to me. She grabbed my face, hers only inches from me.
“I don’t understand everything. I know you’re about to do something. I don’t care what it is. Just be safe, you hear me?”
Damn, I loved her. “Loud and clear.”
Nodding, she grabbed her purse, sliding out of the car. I didn’t want to bring her at all, but she wasn’t having it, and so the best I could do was make her promise to stay in a hotel while I head back “home.”
“Daniel, you’ll be staying with her,” I said to him, and without arguing, he got out of the car as well.
Austin and I exited on the same side of the car. He left the passenger door open and went around to the driver’s side. Luckily, since we had lied about where we were going to be on Twitter this morning, the press wasn’t here, though that would change the moment someone found out.
Plus, we had chosen an old black Honda, something that wouldn’t stick out much to drive in.
“How much did you bring?” I asked him when I sat down.
Pulling away from the hotel, he nodded at the briefcase by my feet. “Thirty large.”
“We don’t need that much—”
“They know who you are, Noah. They aren’t going to talk for less.”
Rubbing the side of my head, I tried to ignore the headache coming on.
“You good? You haven’t had an attack in three months. Is it the new meds—?”
“I’m not on the meds,” I replied.
“Goddamn it, Noah!”
“I’m fine.”
“Last time you said that, you needed rehab,” he muttered, shaking his head at me.
Sighing, I reached into the glove compartment, taking out the pill bottle.
“How did you know they were there?”
I glanced over to him, popping one in my mouth. “You’re kidding me right? Your brain only has one setting—”
“You mean keeping your ass alive and out of trouble.”
“Exactly.” I grinned, leaning against the seat. “You wouldn’t keep my pills anywhere I couldn’t reach if you weren’t around.”
“So this would be a good time for me to ask for a raise?” he mocked.
“A raise to what? Between Amelia and me, you’re probably one of the highest paid goddamn managers in the business.”
“But I’m not the highest, am I?”
I stared at him for a moment, and he looked over to me.
“What?” he asked.
I shrugged, facing forward once again. “Nothing. Just wondering how much it cost for your soul.”
“Let the bidding start at—”
“Just drive!” I ordered, trying not to laugh.
Despite his love for money, I knew Austin had his reasons.
There was line through Chicago, and you only realized it when you crossed over to the side where skyscrapers were replaced with condemned brick buildings, the windows boarded up and the walls covered in graffiti. Women, dressed in outfits that I’m sure belonged to their daughters or worse, in the garbage, stood blatantly on one corner. Teenagers huddled together on another like no one could see the packets being exchanged.
“Welcome home,” Austin said.
“Let’s get this over with,” I muttered, taking off my seat belt as we reached the bar. The sign read ‘Breakers,’ the ‘e’ and ‘s’ no longer lit. It used be the home of the Bone Breakers motorcycle club, but after a series of hard times, prison rides, and in-fights, it was just where grown men came to drink and piss away what was left of their lives. It was already 8 p.m., which meant that every man in the neighborhood over the age of twenty-five would be here.
A familiar smell of stale beer, cigarettes, sweat, and cheap perfume hung in the air when I stepped into the bar. The televisions replayed old Cubs games, though you would never know by the way were watching them. Twenty-five years—that’s how long you had to make it out, or you ended up like these sorry bastards.
“What the fuck, man?” the waitress snapped at me when I took the pitcher of beer out of her hands before she could make it to the table.
Holding it out in front of me, I let it go, allowing it to shatter all over the ground. And if it wasn’t so goddamn sad, I would have laughed at how quickly their heads turned back to me.
“I’m looking for Frank,” I said out loud.
“Good for fucking you! Ain’t no reason—”
“The next round for all you is on me,” I cut off the drunkard behind the bar, earning a round of cheers.
“I know you,” said an older man with a black bandana and a white beard that would put Santa Claus to shame. He stood up.
Jesus fucking Christ. Could you be any more of a stereotype right now?
“You’re Frank’s boy—”
“Not boy,” I cut him off. “If any one of you have any useful information about where my old man is, you’ll be rewarded for it—cash money. I’ll wait.”
I walked over to the corner table and kicked up my feet.
“Hey,” said the same waitress, the scowl on her face gone, and her breasts hanging further out of her shirt. She came up to me with a smile plastered all over her face. “Can I get you—?”
“Do you know where Frank Sloan is?” I asked.
“No—”
“Then I got nothing for you. But better luck next time,” I cut her off.
Just like magic, her face bunched up, the scowl returning in full force as she flipped me off and muttered something under her breath.
I could see them whispering among themselves. A few of them were even sizing me up.
Please don’t make this hard.
When I saw one of them grin and reach for what was either a brass knuckle or a knife in his pocket, I got up and walked over to the bar. There were two men working behind it—correction: one man and a boy. He had to be in his early twenties, but from the way he stood, he looked like a teenager stuck in a locker.
Leaning in, I smiled and said, “One Belhaven. And you’re going to need more ice.”
“What?” he questioned. The older man beside him just nodded.
“Pretty boy,” a voice said. I turned back to face the three idiots behind me with knives. “How about you give us the cash, and we let you make it home in one piece?”
The old man put the beer right beside me. Reaching over, I grabbed it and twisted the top off, my eyes never meeting theirs.
“Did you think this over?” I questioned before drinking.
“You think we fuckin’ playin’ with ya?” the second idiot shouted, spit landing on his own beard. “We’ll end you right here.”
“The money. Where it at?”
Sighing, I put my beer down and answered, “Next to your mother’s balls, ya bas.”
“You fuck—” The moment the first charged, knife out, I grabbed his arm, kneeing him in the stomach and slamming his face onto the bar when the second came up to me. I took the knife and stabbed him in the shoulder, and he went down quickly, leaving me standing face to face with idiot number three. Before he could blink, I had a .44 in his face, his eyes wide. For a split second, I saw him relax, which meant one thing.
Facing back, I fired once into the kneecap of the first idiot who didn’t know when to stay down, before pointing it back in front me.
“Would you like to rethink this decision now?”
He dropped the knife, backing away before making a run for it. Moving back over to the bar, I grabbed my beer, moved back to my table, and once again kicked up my feet.
Southbend had to be one of the few places were you could shoot a man in the knee and no one would bat an eye, let alone tell a soul. That, on top of the fact that Austin was blocking out all of the phones made it insanely easy for me to be here. Hell, some of them even looked bored. I didn’t blame them, but again, I would wait. Someone knew something.
Amelia
There has to be more I can do, I thought, stepping out of my heels and walking to the window.
I felt ornamental. I wanted to do something—truthfully, I wanted to be the badass. It was selfish, really, but I was annoyed that Noah had taken Austin with him. That he was the logical choice. But then again, what could I do other than make a bigger mess out of things?
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
“Mayko, hey,” I said into the phone, moving to take a seat on the couch.
“Hey, Amelia. I’m sorry to bother you. I know you’re super busy—”
“No, it’s fine, Mayko. What’s wrong?” She didn’t sound like her normal free self.
“I’ve been trying to contact mom …”
Shit.
We—Noah, Austin, and I—weren’t going to bring her up until New Year’s. Until then, I was just supposed to—
“Amelia?”
“Huh? I’m sorry, Mayko, I haven’t heard from her in a while. Is everything okay?” I questioned, playing with the chain around my neck.
“Yeah. I mean … no,” she sighed into the phone. “I know she’s flakey, but she was supposed to be getting an honorary award from W.E.W.A.—you know, Women Empowering Women Association. She made this huge deal about Antigone and I being there, and we get there an hour early, and she isn’t here yet. We tried calling all of her phones, and we even called her house in Miami, and she isn’t picking up. I’m getting a bad feeling.”
“Mayko, breathe.” Goddamn it. I had forgotten all about her award. She had talked about it earlier in the year, but like I’d learned to do with most things Esther said, I had tuned it out. “She most likely fell in love again and ran off to some island—like last time.”
“But—”
“What’s most important is apologizing to the W.E.W.A. Do you have their number? I could call in myself on her behalf or maybe promise to come next year?”
“Amelia, I’m so shitty with these kind of things,” she whined, reminding me again that she was only nineteen. “You think you can hop on a jet to Chicago?”
“It’s in Chicago? I’m here.”
“What? I thought you and Noah said you’d be in New York.”
“Long story. Send me the address, okay?”
She let out a sigh of relief. “God, you are a lifesaver.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m going to have to think of a speech … or you guys could come up on stage with me—”
“What was that Amelia? Sorry, they’re asking us for help with … with some stuff … see you soon! Love you. Bye!”
Dial tone.
I stared at the phone for a second before falling back to the couch. Even from beyond the grave, Esther still knew how to make it about her during the worst possible fucking times.
Buzz.
The text read, “37th Williams Ave. Crown Rose Hotel.”
Come on, Amelia.
I pushed myself off the couch and moved to my suitcase, pulling out a simple black knee-length fitted cocktail dress and my makeup bag, heading over to the bathroom. I didn’t have time to doll up more than throwing on some red lipstick and reapplying eyeliner. I pinned my hair into a side bun updo and took off all but one of my bracelets and rings.
“Daniel?” I said into the phone when I entered living room with my heels.
“Yes, ma’am,” his dull, deep voice resounded.
“I needed to be at the Crown Rose Hotel right now. Do you think you can get me another car?”
“Mr. Sloan said to make sure—”
“I’ll repeat myself. I need to be at the Crown Rose Hotel.”
Silence.
“Daniel?”
“I’ll get one now.”
“Thank you. I will be down in a few.” Hanging up, I sat down, applying lotion to my feet and legs before stepping back into the only pair of tan heels I had brought. Noah wanted to leave before I could really pack. I was lucky I even had a dress.
Thank you, Prada, I thought, closing the door behind me.
On the elevator, I thought about texting Noah, or at the very least Austin, but I had no idea what the hell could be going on with them. And right now, I needed to focus on honoring Esther, the woman I couldn’t even bear to call my mother anymore, for the Women Empowering Women Association.
The irony.
“Ms. London,” Daniel said, nodding as he waited in front of the hotel. Standing behind me, he led me out. To my relief, no press were here yet. I shivered as the wind blew right through me and all but jumped into the Escalade.
“We will be there in ten minutes,” he said.
“It’s that close?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Nodding, I watched the hotel fade into the background behind us. Watching the buildings around us change, I remembered the poem Noah had recited earlier. This was his home, and I knew hardly anything about it or the people around him.
“Daniel, how did you start working for Noah?”
“Austin found me.”
Of course, Austin the fucking puppet master.
“Yeah, but where? I’m sure you didn’t just fall out of the sky.”
For the first time, I saw him express an emotion aside from his usual serious face. His brown eyes met mine in the mirror.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
That got my interest.
“Try me,” I sat up.
“Pet store.”
What? “I’m sorry, what?”
He nodded. “I was working in a pet store when Austin came in searching for fish food for his German Blue Ram and Flowerhorn Cichlid. He offered me a job when he saw me train the pit bulls.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out except a quick giggle. I tried to stifle it, but it turned into a full laugh.
“I’m sorry,” I said, laughing even louder. He wasn’t ex-Secret Service, military—hell, he wasn’t even a bouncer. He worked with pets. “It really isn’t that funny, but I can’t stop laughing.”
