“Not me. What about you?” she says, her voice filled with anguish. She wraps her arms around me and hugs me hard. She’s scared for me.
Me!
And a moment ago I thought she was leaving.
This is unreal.
“Let’s get back.” I kiss her hair. As we move on, I extend my arm around her shoulders and pull her to my side to protect her. She slips her hand into the belt loop of my jeans, holding me close, her fingers curled around my hip.
This…proximity is new. I could get used to it.
We walk back to her apartment and I keep an eye out for Leila.
I CONTEMPLATE THE RANGE of emotions I’ve experienced since waking as I watch Ana pack a small suitcase. In the alley the other day I tried to articulate how I felt. The best I could do was “unsettled.” And that still describes my psyche right now. Ana is not the mild woman I remember—she’s far more audacious and volatile.
Has she changed so much since she left me? Or have I?
It doesn’t help that there’s a whole new level of disquiet because of Leila. For the first time in a long time, I’m fearful. What if something were to happen to Ana because of my association with Leila? That whole situation is out of my control. And I don’t like it.
Ana, for her part, is solemn and unusually quiet. She folds the balloon into her backpack.
“Charlie Tango’s coming, too?” I tease.
She nods and gives me a tepid smile. She’s either scared or still mad about Elena. Or she’s pissed for being hoisted over my shoulder in the street. Or maybe it’s the twenty-four thousand dollars.
Damn, there’s a great deal to choose from. I wish I knew what she was thinking.
“Ethan is back Tuesday,” she says.
“Ethan?”
“Kate’s brother. He’s staying here until he finds a place in Seattle.”
Ah, the other Kavanagh progeny. The beach bum. I met him at her graduation. He had his hands all over Ana. “Well, it’s good that you’ll be staying with me. Give him more room.”
“I don’t know that he’s got keys. I’ll need to be back then. That’s everything,” she says.
Taking her case, I have a quick look around before we lock up. I note with displeasure that the apartment has no intruder alarm.
THE AUDI IS PARKED out back where Taylor said it would be. I open the passenger door for Ana, but she stays rooted to the ground, staring at me.
“Are you getting in?” I ask, confused.
“I thought I was driving.”
“No. I’ll drive.”
“Something wrong with my driving?” she asks, and there’s that tone again. “Don’t tell me you know what I scored on my driving test. I wouldn’t be surprised, with your stalking tendencies.”
“Get in the car, Anastasia.” My patience is running thin.
Enough. You’re making me crazy. I want you home where you’ll be safe.
“Okay,” she huffs, and climbs in. She doesn’t live far from me, so our ride shouldn’t take long. Normally I would enjoy driving the small Audi. It’s nimble in Seattle’s traffic. But I’m distracted by every pedestrian. One of them could be Leila.
“Were all your submissives brunettes?” Ana asks out of nowhere.
“Yes.” But I don’t really want to discuss this. Our fledgling relationship is moving into dangerous territory.
“I just wondered.” She’s fidgeting with a tassel on her backpack; fidgeting means she’s apprehensive.
Put her at ease, Grey.
“I told you. I prefer brunettes.”
“Mrs. Robinson isn’t a brunette.”
“That’s probably why. She put me off blondes forever.”
“You’re kidding.” Ana’s disbelief is obvious.
“Yes. I’m kidding.” Do we really have to talk about this? My anxiety multiplies. If she keeps digging, I’ll confess my darkest secret.
No. I can never tell her. She’ll leave me.
Without a backward glance.
And I recall watching her walk up the street and into the garage at The Heathman after our first coffee.
She never looked back.
Not once.
If I hadn’t contacted her about the photographer’s show…I wouldn’t be with her now.
Ana’s strong. If she says good-bye, she means it.
“Tell me about her,” Ana interrupts my thoughts.
What now? Is she talking about Elena? Again? “What do you want to know?” More information about Mrs. Lincoln will only worsen her mood.
“Tell me about your business arrangement.”
Well, that’s easy enough. “I’m a silent partner. I’m not particularly interested in the beauty business, but she’s built it into a successful venture. I just invested and helped get her started.”
“Why?”
“I owed it to her.”
“Oh?”
“When I dropped out of Harvard, she loaned me a hundred grand to start my business.”
“You dropped out?”
“It wasn’t my thing. I did two years. Unfortunately, my parents were not so understanding.”
“You’re what?” Grace scowls at me, her expression apoplectic.
“I want to leave. I’m going to start my own company.”
“Doing what?”
“Investments.”
“Christian, what do you know about investments? You need to finish college.”
“Mom, I have a plan. I think I can do this.”
“Look, son, this is a huge step that could affect your entire future.”
“I know, Dad, but I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to live in Cambridge for another two years.”
“Transfer. Come back to Seattle.”
“Mom, it’s not the place.”
“You just haven’t found your niche.”
“My niche is out in the real world. Not in academia. It’s stifling.”
“Have you met someone?” Grace asks.
“No,” I lie smoothly. I knew Elena before I went off to Harvard.
Grace narrows her eyes and the tips of my ears burn.
“We cannot condone this reckless move, son.” Carrick is summoning his full-on pompous-prick dad mode, and I worry he’s going to give me his signature “study hard, work hard, and family first” lecture.
Grace emphasizes her point. “Christian, you’re gambling with the rest of your life.”
“Mom. Dad. It’s done. I’m sorry to disappoint you again. My decision is already made. I’m just informing you.”
“But what about the wasted tuition?” My mother is wringing her hands.
Shit.
“I’ll pay you back.”
“How? And how in heaven’s name are you going to start a business? You need capital.”
“Don’t worry about that, Mom. It’s in hand. And I will pay you back.”
“Christian, darling, it’s not about the money…”
The only lesson I learned at college was how to read a balance sheet, and I found the peace that single sculls brought me.
“You don’t seem to have done too badly dropping out. What was your major?” Ana says, bringing me back to our conversation.