RISE - Part Two (The RISE Series Book 2) (7 page)

"Do you speak with him? The musician?"

I try not to let my defenses kick in too quickly. It's an innocent question. "I don't. I saw him in New York last week. We spoke briefly then."

She nods. The simple gesture soothes the uncertainty I feel. I'm hopeful that my answer was enough to satiate her curiosity about Ansel.

I was wrong.

"I'd like to speak with him." She gestures towards my smartphone, which is resting on my lap. "Can I get his number from you?"

I want to believe that she's asking out of pure curiosity.  After all, she was the one who clued Landon in to who Ansel was. "Why do you need his number?"

She turns towards me again. "My youngest son is a musician too. I'm going to visit him this weekend. I'd like to connect the two of them."

I've only heard whispers about Asher Foster. I know, from the information I read online, that he worked in the corporate world until recently. I also know, from many of the articles written about him on gossip websites, that he's battled addiction for most of his adult life.

"I don't have Ansel's number. I can give you his manager's name if that helps."

Her eyes brighten with the suggestion. "I'd appreciate that, Tess. I'll do anything in my power to help my son."

––––––––

"Y
ou can run that business of yours from here." My father points to the carpeted floor of his condo. "I know you can do it if you set your mind to it."

I smile at the suggestion. Whenever I see my father in person I wish we lived closer to one another. He's spent most of the last hour telling me how incredibly proud he is of me. He even went so far as to tell me he called my mother to thank her for helping him raise such a wonderful daughter.

I usually tell my dad everything. I don't do that because he demands the details of my life. I do it because I have faith in my relationship with him. I know he trusts my judgment and I have little doubt that if I need straight-from-the-hip advice that my dad will be the person to give it to me.

"My life is in New York." I tap my fingers on my father's hand. "I'm building my company and I'm making a lot of new friends."

I instantly see the doubt in my dad's eyes. "You can't trust everyone you meet, Tess. You mentioned a new fellow you were dating, what's he like?"

"He's gorgeous." I cover my mouth with my hand to shield the smile I know is on my face.

He leans back in the kitchen chair he's sitting in causing the wood to creak. "He's gorgeous? That's all you've got?"

I laugh out loud at his response. I love when he teases me. It means he's happy and relaxed.

For much of my childhood, my father was busy with work. His job selling insurance to people and companies was time consuming and stressful but he did his best to leave his work at the door when he got home from his long business trips. We never met any of his sales team because he wanted to keep his job completely separate from his family life.

I never once felt as though I wasn't a priority in his life. Otis Marlow may have been one of the best salesmen on the east coast at the time, but he didn't boast about it. He saved enough to retire early so that he can travel to see me and my siblings, and his two grandchildren, whenever the urge strikes him. He's happier now than I've ever seen him. When he made the move to California it was unexpected but it's done him a world of good.

"He's a really great guy, dad."

"Does he have a steady job?" My father pulls at the edge of the Los Angeles Times. He reads the paper from cover-to-cover each day. He's proud of that fact. It's helped to fill in his time since he stopped working. "Good jobs are hard to come by these days."

"He has an amazing job. I need you to trust in me."

His brow arches. "I trust you, sweetheart. I don't automatically trust the men you date."

I can't help but smile at the broad grin on his face. "Come to New York soon to meet him. You'll see what a good man he is. "

"I'm actually going to take you up on that offer." He points to the calendar that's hanging on the wall. "As soon as you're done with the lingerie job, I'll come."

"I'll be back here before then." I reach to grab his hand. "Maybe if the timing is right, I can bring my new friend to meet you."

His fingers grab tight to mine. "Until then you watch yourself. Promise me you're going to do that or I'll hire a bodyguard to follow you around."

I shake my head playfully. "I don't need anyone to babysit me. I can take care of myself."

***

"I
heard you were in L.A."

I might have to reconsider that offer of a bodyguard. I've just stepped out of the future home of the Liore boutique and right into the arms of Ansel Rinaldi.

I push back wanting to distance myself from him. "How did you find me?"

"I have my ways."

He may think that's flirtatious or mysterious but it's creepy to me. "Are you stalking me, Ansel?"

"Stalking you?" He glides his hand over the top of his head. "Why would I stalk you?"

I glance down the street in search of my father's car. I'd texted him just a few minutes ago to see if he wanted to meet me for lunch now that my meetings are done. I know that it's going to take him at least twenty-five minutes to get from his place to the spot I'm standing.

"How did you know I'd be here?" I push my finger against the white t-shirt that is covering his broad chest. "I want to know."

"I talked to your brother last night," he admits sheepishly. "I called him and he told me your dad said you were visiting him because you were working on a job at this place."

I don't turn as he motions towards the storefront. "You still talk to Clinton?"

"I talk to him almost every day."

I curse under my breath. I knew the two of them were close at one time, but I assumed when Clinton moved away from Boston that his friendship with Ansel would fade away. I've spoken to my brother at least a dozen times in the past month and not once has he mentioned that he still is in touch with my ex.

"I'm meeting my dad, Ansel," I say hurriedly as I rub my knuckles. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

His face softens with my words. I know they must sting him but anything the two of us shared isn't there anymore. It's a waste of my time and his to try and pretend that there's something left between us.

"Tess," he begins as his head darts to each side. "I think we should talk about things. We never really talked about what happened."

I know he's not referring to the break up. He wants to delve back into the moments following the most painful experience of my life. "I told you that I never wanted to talk about that again."

He closes his eyes as his head falls back. "I lost something that day too, Tess. You've never wanted to admit that."

I feel rage brewing that I'm not certain I'll have the willpower to control. I want to lash out at him. Not with my fists but with my words. He had let me down in the worst possible way when I needed him more than anything. He'd whispered words of love and devotion to me as I sobbed into the phone and then hours later as I waited for his plane to touch down at LaGuardia airport; he'd called to tell me that he had to attend a party in Aspen. It would kill his career if he didn't, he said. It killed any lingering feelings I had for him when he chose his friends over me.

"Don't you dare talk about that day," I spit the words out clearly. "Never bring it up again."

His bottom lip quivers slightly and I can't help but wonder for the briefest of moments if he's going to cry. He doesn't. He only pulls in a heavy breath. "You know that I love you, Tess. You know that nothing will ever change that fact. You're going to come back to me. Mark my words."

I'm so tempted to spit in his face that I feel the saliva gathering on my tongue. I swallow hard, look past him to where a crowd of women has gathered less than twenty feet from us and in utter silence, I turn and walk away.

––––––––

"T
ell me about Los Angeles." His voice is calm and soothing.

I didn't come to his apartment to talk about that. I came to comfort him and to hear about what happened when his brother found out that their father was still alive.

"We can talk about that later." I look at his face. I can't read anything from his expression. He looks rested and his beard is neatly trimmed. I'd bet money on the fact that he's had a haircut since the last time I saw him too. Something has definitely shifted in Landon's life. "How did it go with your brother?"

"With Dane?" He looks down at my face. "It went better than I thought it would. He was upset, but he handled it surprisingly well."

That's not giving me much to go on. "Did he go see your father?"

"He did. We all did. The three of us saw him on Saturday afternoon."

I finally feel as though my fishing expedition is paying off. "That must have been difficult."

"It was cathartic in a sense. We all got to speak our minds; my dad included. The guards actually had to step in a couple of times when my mother got on her feet."

I've yet to meet Landon's mother, Anja, but I know from what Gianna shared with me on the flight to L.A. that's she's got a strong spirit and always puts her sons' happiness before her own. As she retold me countless stories about the days following Landon's father's drowning, I'd bitten my tongue, almost literally.

I had wanted to tell her that Frederick was alive and that the sadness that crept into her voice whenever she said his name wasn't warranted. That man's plan to fake his own death had touched countless lives and each one of those people deserved to know the truth.

"Gianna was talking about your dad on the flight." I know this may not be the best time to bring this up but I doubt that they can keep Frederick's presence a secret forever. "Are you going to tell her and Gabriel soon?"

"What did she say about him?"

I feel slightly annoyed that he skimmed over my question in favor of his own. "Not a lot. She mostly talked about when he drowned."

"About the day he drowned?"

I stare at his face wondering why the pointed details of something that happened so long ago matter at this point. It's been years since that day on the water when the boat Landon and his father were in capsized and it's been weeks since he resurfaced from the dead.

"She talked about the days after the accident," I clarify. "It upset her a lot. I'm sure that has to do with the fact that her sons took part in the rescue."

He runs his hand over the base of his neck, pulling at the edge of the sweater he's wearing. "She helped my mother through those first days. I'll always be grateful to her for that."

"She seems very kind," I say based on my limited knowledge of the woman. Personally I think she's nosier than she is kind, but I haven't spent enough time with her to form a concrete opinion on her strengths and weaknesses.

"Is she still in California?"

I shrug my shoulder as I reach past him towards a bottle of water he placed on the table. I open the plastic cap and take a drink. "I think she's still there. I don't know. She went to see her son."

He takes the bottle from me and finishes the contents. "My mom was asking about her. She wants to see her before she heads back to Boston."

I take a moment to absorb what he just said. I was hoping that when he asked me to stop by that Anja would still be here. I'd realized as soon as he pulled me into his arms, grabbed my ass through my jeans and kissed me that his mother wasn't in his apartment. I just assumed that she'd gone back to Boston to nurse her emotional wounds.

"Where is your mom?" I ask without reservation. "Is she out?"

"She's staying at Dane's place." He taps his shoe against the floor. "She wanted to be close to him and his fiancé."

"Will I get to meet her before she goes home?" I try not to let any excitement fall into my tone. I'm anxious to meet her and Dane.

"Not this trip." He pushes himself to his feet. "Maybe next time, Tess."

––––––––

"W
hen did you get back from your trip?" Lilly hands me a small pink cardboard box. "I've missed you a lot."

I smile at the confession. I've missed her too. We texted almost non-stop when I was on the west coast but it wasn't the same as seeing my best friend. "I got home yesterday."

"Did you see Landon?"

I know she's not asking because she wants to gauge his importance in my life next to her. That's not what Lilly is about. It's the romantic part of her rising to the surface again. She wants me to tell her that he swept me into his arms when I landed at the airport and then he kissed me in the taxi on the ride to his place before he devoured my body all night.

In reality, I had hoped that he would offer to meet me when my plane landed, but the offer never came. Instead, I took a taxi home, showered and then when I finally did hear from him, I went to his apartment and after our Gianna centered conversation, I excused myself under the guise of an apology about being jet-lagged.

I didn't lie about being exhausted but I didn't go home after I left his place. I went to a diner and as I finished every last bite of a cheeseburger and fries I thought about Frederick Beckett and why since that night in the elevator it's seemed that his oldest son has done everything in his power to keep the news of his father's return a secret.

It might be as innocent as Landon says it his. Perhaps the police are keeping it under wraps because it's aiding in their investigation or maybe there's more to it than that and Landon is trying to protect me.

"Open the box, Tess."

I look down at my hands at the small cardboard box. "You got me a present? I didn't expect you to get me something."

I sigh heavily in relief knowing that I choose two beautiful handmade bracelets for Lilly and Haven at a market in downtown Los Angeles. I admit that I did it after Lilly texted me about how excited she was about the gift I was bringing back for her.

I open the box carefully, pulling the lid off before placing it on my desk. I look down and notice a simple white card folded in two. "What is this?"