She grinned. “I know you do. I didn’t want to leave you. You wouldn’t have left me. That’s what sisters do.”
I pressed my lips together. Sisters. The term made my chest hurt. We were sisters. We were. Just like Marcus and Lyle were my brothers. Did it matter that our fathers weren’t the same?
“Okay, then. Climb back in.” I patted the mattress of my large king-sized bed. “It’s not even three. Why don’t we try to get some more sleep?”
“If you promise not to try to kick me again,” she said with a gleam in her gray eyes.
“Oh, no. Did I kick you?”
“Don’t worry about it. That must have been some monster. You know some people have problems with night terrors after taking sleep medicine. I’m sorry, sis. I was trying to help.”
I reached out and touched her arm. My trembling was nearly gone. “It was only a dream.” Was I reassuring her or myself?
She turned off the light near the bed and the room fell silent. After a few minutes, Val asked, “Vik?”
“Yes?”
“Who’s horizontal-friend?”
I turned toward her voice. The darkened scene reminded me of a simpler time, the years we’d spent sharing a room. “Why?”
“I get it if you don’t want to tell me. I was just wondering why you’d call out for Travis in your dream and not him, or even Stewart.”
I shrugged. “I remember in my dream telling myself that Stewart was dead. Even in my dream, I knew he couldn’t help me.”
“But you called out for Travis, the guy you used to say gave you the creeps?” Her voice grew higher. “Is he horizontal-friend?”
“No! God no.”
Val’s laugh filled the room. “Okay, I was just wondering. Is he married?”
I tried to keep up. “Travis, no, he isn’t married.”
“No,” Val corrected, “Horizontal-friend?”
I shook my head in the dark, thinking about Brody. “No, he’s not.”
“Good.”
“Why good?” I asked.
“Because I don’t want you having another one of these nightmares and being all alone.”
“Maybe this is something I need to explore with your counselor. Good night, Val.”
“Night, sis.”
Would Brody understand? How could I explain to him what I was imagining? He’d read the contract, but I’d never given him the particulars. He knew there were other men. He knew it was Stewart’s idea of fun, but he didn’t know any more. What would he think of me if he knew? But then I wondered if I really cared. He was the one spouting things about being the only man in my life. Right now, I didn’t care about having a man in my life. I mean, the sex was hot—it was. However, after all the bombshells I’d had dropped in the past few days I didn’t want a man. I wanted a life: a normal life. A wishful smile came to my face.
Could I ever have a normal life? Just Brody and I, away from Miami, away from the warehouse and Stewart’s deals. Away from Marilyn and Carlisle? I’d never allowed myself to entertain such an idea, but now I did. Could that be my new goal?
The question that arose was what would I be willing to do to achieve it?
As sleep threatened, I knew my answer: anything.
MY NIGHTMARE FROM the night before gave me new resolve. I wasn’t going back to the warehouse. There was no way in hell I could do it. Somehow knowing that if I returned it would be without Stewart made the whole situation seem somehow viler.
Early that next morning, I texted Brody:
“DO YOU KNOW OF ANYONE NAMED CARLISLE?”
The next thing I did was call Craven and Knowles. With each ring, I contemplated my options. Until I knew exactly what I was up against, I couldn’t truly form my plan. The answering of my call refocused my attention.
“Craven and Knowles, this is Trish. May I help you?”
“Trish, this is Mrs. Harrington. I need to speak with Parker as soon as possible. Tell him to call me.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll inform Maggie—”
“No, Trish, I’m not interested in his assistant. If I were I’d ask for her. On second thought, tell Parker that if Craven and Knowles plan to be part of the Harrington future, he’ll be at my apartment at ten this morning. I’ll be waiting.”
“Mrs. Harrington, I’m sure he has appointments.”
“Then he can cancel them. Good day.” I hung up.
Settling into Stewart’s chair I opened Parker’s folder, the pages burning my fingers. I hated every word as I scanned Parker’s contract. No longer was I a naïve eighteen-year-old. Now, I understood the meaning of the words. The innuendos were no longer mysterious but daunting. A knock on the door pulled me away from the torturous words on the page and back to the glass office overlooking the rough seas. I glanced at the clock: only a little before nine.
I didn’t think it would be Parker without an announcement from Lisa or Kristina. “Come in,” I responded cautiously.
The door opened and the familiar, dark gaze looked my way. “Mrs. Harrington, are you feeling better?”
I sat taller. “Yes, Travis. It was wrong of Val to bother you in the middle of the night.”
He came forward and eyed one of the chairs. I nodded as he sat. “No, it wasn’t wrong. It’s my job to make sure you’re all right.”
“Fine, it’s your job. You can protect me from real things, not nightmares.”
I pressed my lips together. Sisters. The term made my chest hurt. We were sisters. We were. Just like Marcus and Lyle were my brothers. Did it matter that our fathers weren’t the same?
“Okay, then. Climb back in.” I patted the mattress of my large king-sized bed. “It’s not even three. Why don’t we try to get some more sleep?”
“If you promise not to try to kick me again,” she said with a gleam in her gray eyes.
“Oh, no. Did I kick you?”
“Don’t worry about it. That must have been some monster. You know some people have problems with night terrors after taking sleep medicine. I’m sorry, sis. I was trying to help.”
I reached out and touched her arm. My trembling was nearly gone. “It was only a dream.” Was I reassuring her or myself?
She turned off the light near the bed and the room fell silent. After a few minutes, Val asked, “Vik?”
“Yes?”
“Who’s horizontal-friend?”
I turned toward her voice. The darkened scene reminded me of a simpler time, the years we’d spent sharing a room. “Why?”
“I get it if you don’t want to tell me. I was just wondering why you’d call out for Travis in your dream and not him, or even Stewart.”
I shrugged. “I remember in my dream telling myself that Stewart was dead. Even in my dream, I knew he couldn’t help me.”
“But you called out for Travis, the guy you used to say gave you the creeps?” Her voice grew higher. “Is he horizontal-friend?”
“No! God no.”
Val’s laugh filled the room. “Okay, I was just wondering. Is he married?”
I tried to keep up. “Travis, no, he isn’t married.”
“No,” Val corrected, “Horizontal-friend?”
I shook my head in the dark, thinking about Brody. “No, he’s not.”
“Good.”
“Why good?” I asked.
“Because I don’t want you having another one of these nightmares and being all alone.”
“Maybe this is something I need to explore with your counselor. Good night, Val.”
“Night, sis.”
Would Brody understand? How could I explain to him what I was imagining? He’d read the contract, but I’d never given him the particulars. He knew there were other men. He knew it was Stewart’s idea of fun, but he didn’t know any more. What would he think of me if he knew? But then I wondered if I really cared. He was the one spouting things about being the only man in my life. Right now, I didn’t care about having a man in my life. I mean, the sex was hot—it was. However, after all the bombshells I’d had dropped in the past few days I didn’t want a man. I wanted a life: a normal life. A wishful smile came to my face.
Could I ever have a normal life? Just Brody and I, away from Miami, away from the warehouse and Stewart’s deals. Away from Marilyn and Carlisle? I’d never allowed myself to entertain such an idea, but now I did. Could that be my new goal?
The question that arose was what would I be willing to do to achieve it?
As sleep threatened, I knew my answer: anything.
MY NIGHTMARE FROM the night before gave me new resolve. I wasn’t going back to the warehouse. There was no way in hell I could do it. Somehow knowing that if I returned it would be without Stewart made the whole situation seem somehow viler.
Early that next morning, I texted Brody:
“DO YOU KNOW OF ANYONE NAMED CARLISLE?”
The next thing I did was call Craven and Knowles. With each ring, I contemplated my options. Until I knew exactly what I was up against, I couldn’t truly form my plan. The answering of my call refocused my attention.
“Craven and Knowles, this is Trish. May I help you?”
“Trish, this is Mrs. Harrington. I need to speak with Parker as soon as possible. Tell him to call me.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll inform Maggie—”
“No, Trish, I’m not interested in his assistant. If I were I’d ask for her. On second thought, tell Parker that if Craven and Knowles plan to be part of the Harrington future, he’ll be at my apartment at ten this morning. I’ll be waiting.”
“Mrs. Harrington, I’m sure he has appointments.”
“Then he can cancel them. Good day.” I hung up.
Settling into Stewart’s chair I opened Parker’s folder, the pages burning my fingers. I hated every word as I scanned Parker’s contract. No longer was I a naïve eighteen-year-old. Now, I understood the meaning of the words. The innuendos were no longer mysterious but daunting. A knock on the door pulled me away from the torturous words on the page and back to the glass office overlooking the rough seas. I glanced at the clock: only a little before nine.
I didn’t think it would be Parker without an announcement from Lisa or Kristina. “Come in,” I responded cautiously.
The door opened and the familiar, dark gaze looked my way. “Mrs. Harrington, are you feeling better?”
I sat taller. “Yes, Travis. It was wrong of Val to bother you in the middle of the night.”
He came forward and eyed one of the chairs. I nodded as he sat. “No, it wasn’t wrong. It’s my job to make sure you’re all right.”
“Fine, it’s your job. You can protect me from real things, not nightmares.”
