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I blink, taken aback by the sudden shift in topic and tone. “I...” I desperately search for an Amber-like answer.
“We’ve talked about this, Amber,” William continues, sounding faintly annoyed and impatient. “And you can’t keep doing it. Intentionally discarding the most basic security precautions is dangerous for both us.”
Amber must have slipped away from her driver when she arranged to meet me in the coffee shop. It was necessary this morning since William’s driver couldn’t see the two of us together. But evidently it wasn’t the first time it happened.
“Amber?” he prompts. “Where did you go this morning?”
Despite my nervousness over being caught, I’m actually kind of annoyed by the man’s highhanded manner. I don’t have to fake my sharp tone. “I just wanted to get away for a little while. I don’t like living in a fishbowl.”
“You don’t live in a fishbowl. You don’t live in a prison. Don’t be melodramatic. It’s my responsibility to take care of you.”
I don’t answer, mostly because I’m not sure how to answer. I have no way of knowing whether William is genuinely concerned about Amber or whether he’s just trying to control her. He sounds cool and professional—no emotion conveyed in his tone at all.
“Am I getting the silent treatment now?” he asks, after a long pause.
“How do you expect me to react?” I’m more upset than I have any reason to feel, since none of this conversation had anything to do with me personally.
“I expect you to ignore me,” he replies, a slight bitterness evident in his voice, “Like you usually do.”
“I don’t always have to agree with you.” I try for some sort of reconciliation, since it doesn’t seem smart to fight with William on our first conversation, “That doesn’t mean I’m ignoring you. I understand why you always want me to take your car, and I’m trying to accept it. But it’s hard for me to never feel... free.”
William doesn’t answer immediately. Then he says in a slightly milder tone, “I understand that. But I’m high profile enough to attract unwanted attention—including people who aren’t mentally stable—and I don’t want you to be a target because of your connection to me.”
I swallow hard. The truth is, right now, I’ll accept any sort of security measures William wants to put into place. I’ll go around with four armed bodyguards if he wants me to.
It will be a miracle to feel safe again.
All I say is, “Fine.”
Another pause. “Please don’t sneak away again.”
“I said fine.”
“Good.”
“Okay. I’m kind of tired.” I am tired. And I also really want to end this conversation.
“Of course. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Thinking I’ve been too abrupt, I add, “Everything’s all right with you?”
“Of course,” William says, sounding faintly surprised again. “Everything is fine. Have a good night.”
“Good night.”
I hang up the phone. Then release a long groan and pull the covers up over my head.
If it’s so hard to just have a phone conversation with William, I have no idea how I’ll manage to interact with him in person.
That’s still a week away though. I’ll be more used to being Amber by then.
I better be. Because William Worthing is a sharp, intelligent man. If Amber with all her wiles wasn’t able to manipulate him, there’s not much chance that I’ll be able to do it either.
Why the hell am I even doing this? The whole thing is utterly ridiculous. Like a bad soap opera.
But then I close my eyes and let out a breath, reviewing all the locked doors and security personnel in place between me and the rest of the world.
There’s no way Montaigne can reach me in here.
For tonight at least I’m safe.
***
