Authors: Elizabeth Lee
* * *
Making the three hour drive to her dad's place while listening to her describe it hardly prepared me for what I see when we pull up to the gate that encircles the private residential area. Two brick half-walls surround the entryway with a guard's station separating entrance and exit lanes, wrought iron stretches down as far as I can see on both sides, and the place is landscaped like a tropical resort. The window lets out a squeal as I roll it down to greet the guard. A white-haired man wearing a navy blue uniform steps out of the booth and leans down to get a look inside the vehicle.
“
Can I help you?” He eyes the Ford and me sitting behind the steering wheel—making a mental note of the rust on my door frame and the earrings Whitney insisted I leave in. “Need directions?” Of course he thinks I am lost. Why would a guy like me, driving a beat up old pick-up truck, be pulling into a place like this?
“
Hey, Grady.” Whitney leans over my lap and smiles up at the old man.
A questioning smile creeps over his face. “Well, hello, Miss Whitney. Didn't know you were in there. I didn't recognize your
friend's
vehicle.” He is obviously waiting for Whitney to tell him who I am and why she is with me.
“
I kidnapped her and I'm returning her for the ransom.” I can’t help the smartass comment from coming out of my mouth. The old man's face is worth the jab in the ribs Whit gives me.
“
He's joking,” she giggles. “We're here for Jessica's party.”
“
Right,” he nods, and I can see him trying to decide if I am actually a criminal. Whitney gives him a not so subtle gesture and points at the gate. He clicks the remote in his hand to open the gate in front of us. “Well, have a good time.” He gives Whitney another smile before she sits back up. When her eyes can't see his face, he gives me a suspicious stare before returning to his post. If this is any indication of how the day is going to play out, I am in for a load of fun.
“
He seemed nice,” I joke as I pull down the smoothly paved road and enter this alternative universe.
“
It's his job to open the gate, not worry about who I bring in,” she states. “He gets paid to click a button. That's it. Please try and refrain from the kidnapping comments,” she teases. So far Whit is on top of her game. I can see she is serious about not letting her father get to her today. I grab her hand with mine as she tells me the route to take. I can see the pitched roof of her father's home from a few blocks away. It has to be the biggest house in the compound. An exceptionally large white brick home with an expansive paved circle drive is our destination.
“
Jesus,” I say under my breath as I drive in behind a row of BMWs, Audis, and Lexuses. “This place is something.” Like something out of a movie. I've never in my life seen a house this big in person. “Maybe I should become a lawyer,” I add as we exit the truck and make our way to the enormous set of double doors leading into the house.
“
No.” She shakes her head. “This house is just my dad's way of overcompensating for being an asshole.” She laughs until the front door is opened by a petite blonde dressed in a flashy pink dress who can’t be more than ten years older than I am. “Hi.” Whitney straightens up and steps forward to give the woman a loving hug. “Cole, this is Jessica, my stepmom.” She moves back to introduce us. “Jess, this is Cole Pritchett.”
“
It's nice to meet you,” I say, cautiously shaking her hand, wondering what Whitney's dad has told her about me. She places her delicate, manicured hand in mine and gives me the once-over before her pink-stained lips smile.
“
Well, now I see what the fuss is all about,” she chuckles, turning her attention back to Whitney.
“
I know, right?” Whitney laughs as her cheeks turn red.
Jessica lets go of my hand and moves aside for us to enter. Whitney snakes her arm through mine as we walk into the foyer, complete with a double staircase and twenty-foot ceilings.
“What was that about?” I lean in and whisper.
“
Apparently, all the mother figures in my life think you're cute,” she giggles. I give her an impressed nod and a grin.
“
Nice to know I'm good arm candy,” I tease.
“
That you are,” she agrees as we follow Jessica through the mansion to the back of the house and through a set of French doors. The party is being held in the backyard. A hundred or so people dressed in their Sunday best with flutes of champagne in their hands circle around a swimming pool with dozens of fresh flowers floating on top of the water. A small band has set up in a gazebo, playing a selection of classical music that makes me wish I brought a pair of earplugs or at least my headphones. Whitney downloaded a bunch of songs on my iPod and even Trace Corbin sounds better than this shit.
“
Your father's been waiting for you,” Jessica says, turning back to Whitney to point out where he is standing. She excuses herself to go mingle with the rest of the Real Housewives of my nightmares. At least I am dressed appropriately enough. I should have worn my ripped jeans. These clowns wouldn't have known what hit them.
“
Perfect.” Whitney purses her lips and takes a determine step toward him. I keep by her side, just how I promised, and when we reach the cluster of what I assume are all his lawyer friends, their chatter dies.
“
Hello, Dad.” Whitney forces a smile as the crowd separates. What happens almost stops my beating heart.
“
Glad you could make it, Whitney,” he says warmly, wrapping his arm around his daughter and smiling. When he releases his grasp on her, Robert Vandaveer stretches his hand out to mine. “Cole, nice to see you again. I want to apologize for the way I behaved the other night.” I am stunned that he got right to it, and I can tell by the look on Whitney's face she is equally as surprised. I shake his hand.
“
Thank you,” I answer him, knowing that he was only apologizing to make himself look good in his daughter's eyes. I take it though because the smile on her face is worth it.
“
Yes, thank you.” Whitney embraces her father again. “I'm glad that you admit you were wrong and agree with my decisions about my life.”
“
I accept your decisions, Whitney,” he corrects her. “We’ll see about the agreeing part,” he chuckles. There is the over-protective dad I met before. “It was wrong for me to judge you.” He looks at me. “My wife actually reminded me that we did our best to raise Whitney right and that we have to trust she will make the right choices.”
It might not have been exactly what Whitney was hoping for, but we should take it as a victory. At least he is backing off.
“I will,” she notes. I am just glad that she is actually speaking. The last time she was around him she bit her tongue the entire time.
“
Is there a chance I could steal you for a moment, Cole?” he asks. “I need some help moving a statue Jessica is raffling off tonight and I know you're familiar with manual labor.” Whitney shakes her head, and I can tell she really wants to say something about his jab at my job choice. She hasn't told her father that I am starting my own company yet. I think she knows that opening that can of worms is going to lead to the conversation about her moving to Georgia, and she is still taking baby steps when it comes to him.
“
Absolutely.” I stop her from talking. “I'm sure you white collar guys need a little help when it comes to actual work. Sitting at a desk all day does little for core strength,” I fire back. Two can play this game. Sugar-coated civility is right up my alley.
He laughs. “Perfect. We will be right back,” he says to Whitney as he directs me toward the house. I give Whitney a wink as we walk away, hoping to erase the worried look on her face, but something about the way she is concerned with her father and me walking away together makes me wonder if I’m about to be thrown to the sharks.
Chapter 27 – Whitney
“Whitney,” a familiar voice called out, forcing me to pull my eyes from Cole and my father as they walk away. I can’t believe how quickly my dad offered his apology to Cole. I figured he would, but I thought he'd drag it out as long as possible. It was very uncharacteristic of him and it left me with a cloud of doubt looming over Jessica's summer party. I don't think I've ever heard him say the words “I'm sorry.” Surely he has an ulterior motive, but figuring out what it is will have to wait because right now I have to deal with this.
“
I was hoping you'd be here.” I turn as my nose is flooded with the Armani cologne I gave him for Christmas. He slips his arm around my waist and pulls me toward him.
Wesley
.
“
Let go of me.” I wiggle out of his hold and take a step back.
“
Don't be like that,” he chuckles, pretending that I am not shooting daggers at him.
“
What do you want?” I grab a flute of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter.
“
I want to apologize for the last time we saw each other,” he tries to convey with sincerity. I don't buy it and he knows it. As I am downing my drink, he steps up and wraps his arm around my waist again. I try to get out of his hold. No such luck. Instead he grabs the glass from my hand and sets it down on a table next to us. I attempt once again to separate us by placing my free hand on his chest, but he is stronger than I am. He takes my hand off of his chest and starts swaying to the music that is playing. To the rest of the bystanders, we look like a happy couple partaking in an afternoon waltz. Others begin to join in around us, assuming that we've reached the dancing segment of the festivities.
“
Don't cause a scene, Whit,” he warns, his hand biting into my waist and holding me still. “You wouldn't want to ruin Jessica's party, now would you?”
“
Not at all.” I bite back the urge to spit in his face and let him lead me around the makeshift dance floor. With my lips firmly pressed up in a smile, I asked, “What do you want? I'm sure you already know that I'm here with Cole.”
“
I do,” he laughs. “Thanks to your father's help, he won't be bothering us.”
Of course! My father is helping Wes get me alone. It was all a lie. How stupid am I to think my dad was actually being sincere in his apology? He probably had security escort him off the property by now.
“Unbelievable!” I try to squirm from Wesley's grip. “Let go of me,” I demand.
“
Relax,” he whispers as he nods to the couples moving around us. “I'd be more than happy to let you go if you just agree that you've been acting like a crazy person. Can't you see that this is where you belong?” With his fingers digging into my hip, it feels like he is going to puncture the fabric of my dress and draw blood. “I know you still love me,” he breathes on my neck. “You just need a little convincing.” I can feel my skin crawl as he presses his lips against it.
“
I was crazy to ever think I wanted to be with you.” I shove him as hard as I can. He stumbles backward, nearly taking out another set of dancers as his arm slips from behind my back. “I'm only going to tell you this one more time. Stay the hell away from me,” I shout, alerting everyone to the fact that something is going on.
“
She's feisty.” He grabs my wrist and tugs me toward him, acting as if we are just playing around. A few faces smile and laugh, ignoring the fact that he is actually hurting my arm as he tries to pull me through the crowd.
“
I'm not going anywhere—” My argument is cut short when I see a fist fly through the air and connect directly with Wesley's face as he turns back to warn me that I am causing a scene. His hand immediately releases my wrist as he drops to his knees and covers his nose. Blood has already pooled on the ground below him and soaked the front of the linen shirt he is wearing as he cries out in pain.
“
I warned you to stay the hell away from her,” Cole shouts above the music as he wraps his arm around my waist. I let my head fall against his chest to avoid having to look at Wesley, who is shoving away a waiter who offered him a towel.
“
Are you okay?” Cole asks as he pulls my face up in his hands and stares down at me—his brown eyes telling me he regrets ever leaving my side. He presses his lips to my forehead as he sighs, knowing that Wesley never would have tried anything if he hadn't gone with my father. Little does he know it was all a hoax for Wes to get me alone.
“
I'm fine,” I assure him as I quickly realize that we are standing in a crowd full of awestruck people. The music has stopped along with the dancing and chatter. All eyes are on us and I know that we need to go. Before I can relay the message to Cole, Wesley charges at him, dropping his shoulder to catch Cole in the stomach, nearly knocking him to the ground and taking me along with him. Somehow I manage to stay standing, even in heels. I recover my composure just in time to see every ounce of control stripped away from Cole's face.
“
A broken nose wasn't enough?” Cole asks, almost smiling as he regains his footing and drives his fist into Wes's ribs. One, two, three consecutive blows. Even over each grunt of agony that Wes exhales—and the subsequent gasps of disbelief coming from the audience—I can hear the sounds of cracking bone. Cole lets up enough to allow Wes to shove him back. Maybe it is the look on my face that alerts him that Wes has had enough, or maybe Cole is trying to show some restraint. Each of the guys is now standing a few arms’ lengths away from one another and staring into each other’s eyes with full blown hatred.