Glass Towers, Shattered (Glass Towers Trilogy) (24 page)

As Harrison pulls away from her he says, “Don’t forget
that we have ring shopping in an hour. Why don’t we let Miss Austen get back to her work.”

“Oh Harrison, I have not forgotten about shopping for my ring!
I am so excited ” She turns to me and looks me up and down. “I guess I may not need my office decorated after all, since I am to be mistress of one of the most beautiful homes in all of Montreal.” She sighs with an exaggeration comparable to a bad soap opera actress.

I muster up a smile
, “Sounds nice. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to complete.” I head down the side corridor to find the bathroom, as I am fairly certain that I am going to be sick.

After several hours of hanging pictures, arranging vases, and rearranging furniture, we
are finally done. I am surprised and extremely relieved that we are done two days early. I am so thankful that I managed to hire an amazing team of laborers, who powered through the whole thing. It didn’t hurt that I bribed them with a bonus, if they stayed late and finished the install today. 

Harrison and
Marion left hours ago to shop for her engagement ring. I was having horrible monthly cramps that came on like a flash flood, so I was hiding out in the bathroom when they left. I am sure that it made her mad that she didn’t get to gloat in front of me again today.  Thank you Mother Nature for stepping in and saving me.  For the first time ever, I am grateful for cramps.

I
am just finishing with Harrison’s office and turning out the light, when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I look at it and see a text from Harrison.

7:39 PM

Harrison Towers

Thank you for being so calm about today. You looked sexy, by the way.

7:39 PM

Me

I was anything but calm. I hate her and I don’t want to see her again. We are done with the work. Did you buy her a ring?

7:40 PM

Harrison Towers

With any luck, you won’t have to. She found a ring. I haven’t technically bought it just paid a deposit. Have to keep up appearances. For now.

Shit! He bought her a ring. I guess he had to, but it just makes me insane. What a waste of money and time!

7:41 PM

Me

Just wonderful Harrison. I don’t want to hear any more.

7:42 PM

Harrison Towers

Sorry. I miss you. I will call you tomorrow, before I leave to Montreal.

7:43 PM

Me

Yeah, I miss you too. I love you.

7:43 PM

Harrison Towers

And, I love you.

Oh, gah! I am so in love with this man. I just hate the situation that I am in. I go from an amazing weekend with him to watching Marion draping herself all over him. I know that I am supposed to have faith and trust him, but there is still no guarantee that he will be able to absolve himself of the blackmail in time to get out marrying the witch.

I put my phone in my jacket pocket.
I turn to leave and there is Marion, standing by the elevator, with her arms crossed scowling at me. I jump with a start and look behind me to find that nobody else on my team is around. They must have already gone home.

“Miss Austen, I was hoping I would find you still here
.” She says in a syrupy tone. I am immensely uncomfortable. I put my purse on my shoulder and head toward the elevator, where she is standing.

“I’m finished and just getting ready to leave.
If you’ll excuse me...”

“Not so fast.”
She glares at me and grabs my arm. “We need to talk.”  She hisses.

I yank my arm away from her and push the
elevator’s down button. “I am not aware of anything that we need to discuss, especially since my work here is done.”

“Oh
, don’t play naïve, Miss Austen. I know that you and Harrison used to be lovers. Since he and I are to be married, I want to make sure that you understand your place.”

I start to speak
, but she holds up her finger and wags it back and forth. “Let me finish. Since your work is done here, I advise you to lose Harrison’s number and move on with your life. I will not abide by anyone interfering with my wedding. Besides, Harrison only views you as a fling, so don’t embarrass yourself by sticking your nose where it certainly does not belong.”

I want to punch her.
The elevator door has open and closed as she continues to block my way. I know better than to let her have it, so I look her straight in the eye. “I am not interested in you or your fiancé, Miss Devereaux. Now, please get out of my way and stop embarrassing yourself. I am sure your fiancé would not find this appealing.”

With that
, I board the elevator and hit the down button. She starts to say something, but the door shuts in her face, my finger firmly planted on the button that closes the door. Yes! I love it! However, I am trembling like a leaf as the elevator descends. By the time I get out to the parking lot, I am crying like a baby. The tears are flowing freely. Shit! I totally forgot that Albert is here. He is at my car waiting for me.

It occurs to me that he has been loitering around all day.
I walk straight to the car and hand him the keys. “Please drive me home.” He nods and we head back to Simone’s in silence. Once back at her house, I am relieved to have the peace and quiet of an empty home. I need to collect my thoughts. I look in the cupboards for something to eat, and I find a couple cans of soup. I heat up the soup and eat alone, as Albert claims to have eaten while waiting for me today.

After I take Henry for a walk with Albert following behind, I take a quick soak in the tub and
go to bed early. I am so damned tired from the weekend and today, that I barely remember my head hitting the pillow.

It’s Wednesday morning and I’ve awoken with the feeling that I have a new lease on life. Harrison left yesterday evening to Montreal. Marion is still here, handling a pile of winery paperwork at the offices located in Hood River. I am relieved that they are not under the same roof, or even in the same country. I know that Harrison would never do anything with her, but that would not stop her from trying.

Since I
finished the Towers job earlier than planned, I was able to spend the majority of Tuesday looking at condos with my agent.  We found nothing that excited me. My agent was clearly peeved when I told her to keep looking. I have also decided to lease something, instead of buying. I am still not certain of my future and what it may hold.  For now, making a big decision like purchasing a condo, is out of the question. I know that Simone will let me stay here as long as I need, but what I really need right now is my own space. When I returned from condo hunting, Albert and I went to the grocery store finally and stocked the house with food. Albert pushed the cart for me; sometimes a bodyguard is helpful. 

This morning I
am going for a run with Henry and Albert. Well actually, Albert is too lazy to run, so he follows me in the car. Whatever works, as long as I get to work out I won’t complain. I have an appointment to meet the detective today to go over some questions that he has about the timeline of my mysterious experiences.

After I take my shower and get ready
, I head out to the kitchen and make myself some coffee. I can feel a headache looming. I glance at the clock on the microwave and realize that I barely have time to get to the station on time. I remove the coffee decanter and shove my mug under the stream. Once there is enough in my mug to ward off the migraine, I replace the decanter and take a quick swig out of my mug.  I scald the roof of my mouth. Shit! A headache would have been better than a scorched mouth.

I grab a water bottle and we head out.
I leave Henry in the house to hold down the fort and set the alarm as we leave.

An hour and half later
, we arrive back at the house. We enter and find everything just as we had left it, except for one thing. The house appears the same, but
I
have changed over the course of the last hour and a half.  My confidence in Harrison has waned. Once again, I am confused.

After I gave the envelope with the note
, pictures, and the cuff link to the detective, we discussed the phone log. The detective pulled out the pictures from the first break in. He brought to my attention two pictures in particular. Both were pictures of me at the beach, walking my parents dog, Stormy. Upon closer inspection, one of the pictures is actually of me talking to Harrison, who is standing about 100 feet away with a surfboard in his hands. I had to look at the picture several times before I realized what the detective wanted me to see. I must have explained to the detective ten times that I did not know Harrison when those pictures were taken. It was the day after I signed my divorce papers. I remember it well. Stormy got away from me and ran off, while I stood there gawking at the bronze god emerging from the chilly Pacific Ocean. You don’t see that often in Oregon. I could not believe that I had never thought to remind Harrison of our first chance meeting. I wonder if he would remember it. The rest of the pictures were from a few months ago. That was why the detective was confused. He thought I had misinformed him when we originally went through the pictures at my condo.

Now, I am questioning everything.  I believe Harrison should be also.  I call him to discuss the situation but I have to leave a voicemail as usual. 
It is disconcerting to know that I was being stalked that far back in time. I had not officially met Harrison until the Tour of Luxury Homes.

I sit at the island in the kitchen and wait for the microwave to finish heating my coffee.
I did not manage to get enough coffee in me to ward off the headache before I met with the detective. Now, my head is totally throbbing.

My phone rings in my purse a
s the microwave starts its incessant beeping. I pop open the door as I answer my phone without noticing who is calling me.

“Hello?”

“
Bonjour Ma Belle
.”

My heart stops beating.
It’s Harrison’s sexy voice. He is speaking to me in French. Damn, my all-too-eager loins start to tingle. Down girl, I quickly chastise myself. Now is certainly not the time.

“Hi Harrison.”

“Oh, don’t we sound cranky.”

“I’m not cranky
. I just have a bad headache, and I am back from my meeting with the detective today.”

“Oh?
And how did that go?”

“Well
, that is why I called you and left the message. Two of the pictures that were plastered in my condo were of me….and you….from almost a year and a half ago.”

He makes a click with his tongue,
“How is that possible, Danielle? We just met this past summer.”

“Well
, that was what I was thinking originally. But, when I looked at the pictures closer, I realized that actually the first time I ever laid eyes on you, was at the beach.”

“What?”
He sounds as confused as I am. “What beach? When?”

“The picture is of me with my parent
’s dog at the beach, and you are in the background with your surfboard, partially wearing a wet suit. I remember the day vividly because it was the day after I had signed my divorce papers.”

“Well, that certainly does not jar any memories for me.
I think I would have remembered meeting you, Danielle. Are you certain it is me in the picture?”

“Harrison, I am not a complete idiot.
Of course, I am certain it is you! If you don’t believe me, then why don’t you go down to the department and have the detective show you the pictures?! Oh, that’s right, you are not here to handle any of this. I have to do it. In fact, I have had to handle an awful lot on my own. And all for what? A chance to sneak around with a man who is engaged to someone else?”

“Wait!”
He shouts into the phone. “Stop this nonsense. I know that you are upset about the situation we are in. You have every right to be. But, believe me when I tell you that I don’t honestly remember meeting you on the beach. When I actually get a chance to go surfing, I am in my own zone. I am not there to meet people, conduct business or pose for a camera. I am there for me. So, if there is a picture of you and me on the beach, then I must have been delirious because I do not remember such an occasion.”

The tears of frustration start to flow.
It seems that crying is all I do these days. I am glad my period will be over in a few days. I am sure the excess hormones are contributing to my overwrought emotions.

“Harrison, I never said we actually met
, but we did interact. My parent’s dog got away from me and was trampling someone’s picnic. You came on shore and pointed out my dog’s errant ways. When I turned back to thank you, you had returned to the surf. Anyway, I am not going to argue those points with you. If you don’t remember that exchange, then whatever. The picture is what it is. And, it is significant because we had not yet officially met. So, why was I in the photo? That is the point. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get going. I have to finish preparations for the professor’s install tomorrow.”