Wherever It Leads(15)

I held my mother all night that night while my father slipped outside to drown his tears in the stiffest liquor he could find.

My phone rings again, startling me. I pick it up. “Hello?” I ask, my voice wearing a slight tremble.

“Ms. Calloway?”

“Yes. This is Brynne.”

“Hello, Brynne. I’m Edie Stark from Fred Segal and I was asked to get in touch with you about your needs for this week.”

“My needs this week?” I place my pencil down on the counter. “I’m sorry, Edie. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Presley comes into the room and gives me a look, clearly seeing my confusion. I shrug and try to figure out what’s going on.

A soft laugh drifts through the phone. “Mr. Abbott said you’d be needing a few things—dresses, swimsuits, some leisure clothes. I just wanted to get a time you were available to swing by the store and—”

“Whoa,” I interject, hopping off my stool. “Let’s back up a second. Fenton told you to call me about things I’d need to go away with him?”

“Well, Ms. Calloway, I’m not sure what you need these things for. That’s between the two of you. He just asked me to arrange for it to be taken care of . . .”

“That cheeky f*cker.”

I glance at Presley. Her jaw is grazing the tile on the floor.

Edie maintains her professionalism and if she’s thrown by my comment, she doesn’t let it show. “I can have a car come pick you up at any time. Just let me know what works for you.”

I’m at a loss for words. Even though I was going to say yes, I haven’t yet. He just assumes I’m going to. That rich, good-looking bastard.

“Edie,” I say, clearing my throat, “Can I reach you at the number on my caller ID?”

“You sure can. Just give me an hour’s notice, please, to arrange for transportation.”

“If it comes to that, I will. Thank you.”

“Talk soon.”

I click the phone off and spin to see Presley’s startled face. “What the hell did he do?”

“Apparently, I have an appointment to go shopping for the week at Fred Segal?”

She yawns, stretching her arms over her head. “I knew I’d like him. That Guy Radar was lasered in on this one. What can I say?”

“I haven’t even told him I’d go!”

“You must have come across as a given. Or he isn’t used to being told no. Either way, it’s really hot, Brynne.”

It is really hot.

Presley pours herself a cup of coffee and takes my place at the bar. “I think you need to call him.”

“Probably,” I murmur. I thought I had it all figured out. The ball was in my court and I was in control. I was happy with that situation. And now he’s twisted it all up and somehow wrested the control back again. “I don’t want to seem like a shoe-in though.”

“I agree. Toss him some conditions. Let him know you aren’t just rolling over . . . yet.”

The look on her face makes me giggle. “Good idea. But if he acts like an *, I’m bailing. I don’t care how hot he is.”

She sips her drink and watches me over the cup, not saying a word. Taking a deep breath, I find his number in my contacts and head into my room, closing the door behind me. I can hear my pulse beating in my ears as I press the call through.

It rings twice before he picks up.

“Abbott.”

“Hi, Fenton. It’s Brynne.”

A chair squeaks in the background. I imagine him leaning back in some oversized leather chair, wearing that smirk of his that I’ve thought about for the last fourteen hours. “Well, good afternoon, Brynne. How are you?”

“Good. I just had a very interesting phone call.”

“Is that so?”

“It is,” I quip. “A lady named Edie called. We had a very enthralling conversation.”

“Those conversations are my favorites. You never know what you can glean from good dialogue.”

Smartass.

“What did she say?” he teases.

“She said you asked her to make arrangements for me to pick up things for this coming week.”

His chuckle resonates through me, bringing my body to life.

“Well, I just got off the phone with her a few minutes ago, so that’s a point for efficiency,” he replies.

“Fenton, I haven’t agreed to go with you.”

“Brynne, you know you’re not going to say no.”

My chest tightens. This is the moment of truth.

“If I go with you,” I say, my voice as stern as I can manage, “I’m not going as an employee.”

“Is that what’s holding you back?”

“Yes.”

The chair squeaks again. “Brynne, I only offered to pay you to accompany me as a means to an end. You said you had to work, so I assumed you needed the paycheck. It was never my intention to disrespect you.”

My throat goes dry. The tone of his voice, so much rawer than I’ve heard it, blindsides me.

“You needed a vacation and I’m going away anyway. Why not go with me?” he asks.

“I barely know you.”

“But do you like me?”