AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Just wait,” I seethe. “I’m going to show you guys. You can’t get away with treating your daughter this way and not have it come back to—”
“I’ve paid for two weeks at The Driskill,” my father interrupts. His voice is stern. “After that, you’re on your own.”
My eyes widen. “You’re sending me to a hotel?”
“You can’t stay here,” he said. And that was that.
Chapter Two
Tom
Before
A clear motive is what I was looking for. In hindsight, I realize it is ridiculous. Often, you can’t assign a reason to irrational acts. Oddly enough, she expected me to feel sorry for her. I didn’t. Serves her right, what happened. Minus the blood. That part I do regret. I hate blood. I hate Houston. I hate that I was sent there. Even one day is too much to spend in that trash receptacle they call a city. And I really don’t like hotels, or sidewalks outside of hotels. Or, for that matter, people.
She was just one among many I happened upon that day, head down, oblivious, in a rush. All of them the same in their incessant hurrying from one place to another, so unoriginal. Like insects scurrying about. Like cockroaches when you turn on the light. Don’t mess with them, Aunt Jeannie told me once, and they won’t mess with you. My aunt was a liar. But not about that. I once kicked an ant pile just to see it scatter. It landed me in the ER. Messy business if they catch ya, she said as I spent hours in an oatmeal bath that had long turned cold. Needless to say, I never tried that again. That’s what I was thinking when she bumped me, her iced coffee splattering my crisp, white shirt.
“Jesus. Look what you’ve done,” I huffed, dabbing at the stain. At least I’d thought to have June pack me another. Always better to be safe than sorry. I don’t know what I expected her to say, but an apology would have been nice. When I looked down, ready to meet eye to eye, that’s when I saw she wasn’t standing at all. All I saw was a heap of long legs, wavy blonde hair, and fair skin. I hate the unexpected.
“What I’ve done?” she quipped. “You’re not the one on the ground.”
“Here,” I offered, extending my hand. My eyes drifted down her legs. Five, maybe six-inch heels. Nude. Not the most practical of shoes for one to wear when they aren’t watching where they are going.
She refused the gesture. Part endearing, part amusing, I reveled in the time—time I didn’t have, I might add— that it took her to rise to her feet.
“Easy peasy,” I said.
She countered my mocking by straightening her back, causing her clear blue eyes to meet mine. They hit me right in the gut. So vibrant, so angry. I bet she’s good in bed. The ones who can hide their anger, the self-contained, normally are. You just have to know how to channel it properly.
“I needed that coffee. Every bit of it. And now look—” Her voice came out smooth, direct, like music you can’t help but turn up.
“Maybe you should consider putting the phone down,” I offered, glancing at my watch. I frowned, realizing I wouldn’t have enough time to run back into the hotel, take the elevator to my floor and make the necessary change. I’d be late, and stained shirt or not, that’s a rule I couldn’t break.
“Maybe you should watch where you’re going.” Her voice was rougher this time. Less melodic. “Maybe you should learn to be a gentleman.”
My eyes met hers. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The words were lodged somewhere deep in the recesses of my brain. Always be a gentleman, my father told me once. They can take a lot from you. But never that.
She didn’t try to fill the silence, she simply smoothed her navy dress. That’s when I noticed the blood.
“You’re bleeding,” I said.
Her eyes followed mine. I expected some of her front to falter. She only shrugged. I stared into her pale eyes, awaiting a response, but her expression was blank. I was disappointed this turned me on as much as it did. I reminded myself that I am a happily married man. She smiled then, reminding me that her face is sweet, but not altogether innocent. A deadly combination, to be sure. My phone buzzed in my pocket. “I have to go.”
“Aren’t you going to apologize?” I detected anger in her voice. The sight of blood paralyzes me. Nothing else has that effect. Certainly not her.
“Sorry,” I shifted. “About your knee.” I remind her she bumped into me.
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re an asshole.”
I didn’t have time to argue for my limitations. Instead, I adjusted my suit jacket, turned on my heel and practically bolted in the other direction, the annoyance running through my veins propelling me toward the future. I did not come here for distractions, nor did I have time for them. Stained shirt or not, I would sprint to that meeting if I had to. I was going to crush Watson. Get in, get out, my father always said. Make it so quick they don’t know what hit ‘em. Best not to let ‘em see you coming. That, my son, is the art of war.
“If I never run into you again,” she called out, her voice tinged with rage, “it’ll be too soon.”
Unfortunately for her, too soon came later that evening in the hotel bar. Seated at the bar, I spotted her immediately. It was the hair, half done up in waves, her slim shoulders, tanned and inviting in the backless shirt she wore. She wasn’t a novice. Even I could see that.
I had six minutes and thirty seconds before Sam Watson was due to arrive, if he was on time. Thankfully, I knew he would be. I slid onto the empty barstool, leaving two seats between us. The bartender came over and pulled a napkin from the pocket of his vest. “What can I get you?”
“The lady,” I motioned. “Her drink is nearly empty. How about another? Just water for me.”
