She hadn’t spoken to me all night, but she had come. I just wished I knew what that meant.
There were a few other people I knew vaguely there, several of whom I had only talked to on the phone. Almost all of them had been kind, friendly even.
The only two who hadn’t been…well, let’s just say it hadn’t exactly been a surprise.
Joshua hadn’t been friendly or unfriendly. There was no doubt he was mostly there to play at being Penelope’s arm candy and occasionally try to cop a feel. She’d smacked him three times by the time the meal had ended.
I wondered if she had any idea that throughout the meal, Dominic had been amusing himself by stroking me...in a far more intimate manner and place. My silk panties were soaked, my body wired.
“Well, this went over better than I’d—”
Fawna’s words ended abruptly when a crash came from the living room.
It was followed by a low, feminine sob and the three of us rushed out. Penelope was sitting on the floor behind the couch, clutching at the front of her shirt. Joshua was sprawled flat on his back next to her, a hand over his eye.
Dominic was rubbing his fist, looking furious as he glared down at Joshua as if deciding the best way to eviscerate him.
Penelope’s eyes landed on me. Dominic wasn’t looking at her so he couldn’t have possibly seen the way her eyes narrowed slightly, or the way her lips curled.
But I did.
So did Molly. I thought Fawna saw it as well, but the three of us stayed silent, waiting to see what would happen next.
A moment later, Penelope got to her feet and rushed to Dominic, flinging herself at him and sobbing against his chest.
***
Twenty minutes later, he looked at me over her bent head. She was still crying, into a handkerchief now. He’d pulled it out of his pocket and given it to her and Fawna had guided her over to a chair while Dominic called for building security. Every time he tried to go more than a couple feet from her, she’d start making these little hurt noises until he was close again.
Molly and I leaned against the wall, watching the whole tableau.
“She’s good,” Molly said softly.
I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. “Very.”
Then I felt bad. Dominic had seen what had happened and had given us the short version.
Joshua had been tossing back the bourbon all night and had gotten so plastered, he’d barely been able to walk to the door. At some point, he’d decided that Penelope had teased him long enough. He’d made a pass at her again, grabbing at her breasts, and when she’d pushed him away, he hadn’t gone. Penelope had ended up crushed between him and the couch. Her shirt was ripped at the sleeve and Joshua would probably feel like he’d been hit by a mack truck.
Through sobs, she’d announced that she didn’t want to press charges, going pale at the very idea. Dominic had instructed security to get Joshua into a cab, but not before he’d made it clear to the dazed young man that if he ever saw his face again, he’d end up in the hospital rather than the police station.
Everybody else had trickled out except for Molly, Fawna and me. And our damsel in distress. A few more minutes passed before Penelope’s sniffles eased.
“I’ll have a car brought around.” Dominic patted her shoulder. “We’ll get you home.”
She started to reach for him, then let her hand fall away. “Would you…” She darted a glance at me and for the first time, she managed a weak smile. “Oh, never mind. I couldn’t ask. Really.”
Oh, brother. Who was she kidding?
Dominic stared straight ahead, his expression unreadable.
“How about I ride home with you, Penelope?” Fawna asked.
I could have hugged her.
“Oh, no.” Penelope stared at her, wide-eyed. “You have to get home to your little grandson. I heard you talking about how you worry so. With a teenaged girl watching him, you must be so stressed about that.”
Dominic dipped his head and I could all but see the strain building inside him. “I’ll take care of it, Fawna.”
“But—”
He shot her a look and shook his head. “It’s in the opposite direction of where you’re heading and you already have a good forty-five minute drive.”
His gaze came to me.
I saw the apology there and managed a smile I didn’t feel. I was better than Penelope Rittenour and I was going to prove it by being the bigger person.
No matter how much I hated her at that moment.
Chapter 8
Aleena
I woke with the headache from hell and a feeling of dread hanging over me.
It could have been from the wine.
It could have been from the fact that I hadn’t gone to bed until nearly two a.m., staying up and waiting for Dominic.
It could have been from a million things.
I decided not to think about any of them. Stumbling into workout clothes, I jammed sunglasses onto my face and left the penthouse. It was quiet. Either Dominic was still asleep or he was out doing what I was doing, running off the excesses of a late night, too much food and too much wine.
I’d only recently started running, but I’d grown to like it, appreciating the way it burned calories and revved up my heart. I’d always been too self-conscious to run back home because of my figure. Here, I didn’t care. Out on the street, no one looked at me like a freak. It was a great way to clear my head as well. Today, I was trying to pound the headache out of my head with every slap of my feet on the concrete.
I took the route toward the park and spent almost an hour pounding the pavement. By the time I was on my way home, the headache had retreated to almost tolerable levels. So even though my muscles felt like spaghetti, I considered it a win as I rounded the corner that took me back to the penthouse.
I was almost inside when a shadow fell across my path.
I froze.
Joshua stood there.
“Get away from me,” I snapped. I really wasn’t in the mood.
One of the doormen moved toward us and I held up a hand. I didn’t need help. I could deal with this asshole on my own. Dominic wasn’t the only one with a mean right hook.
Joshua dipped his head. “Ma’am…I…um.” He looked around. “Look, I’m sorry about last night.”
“You should be apologizing to Penelope.” I crossed my arms over my chest. As much as I disliked her, no woman deserved to be treated like that. No person.
“I did.” He looked away again. “Well, I tried anyway.” Abruptly, he shoved an envelope at me. “You should see this. You’re a nice girl, or you seem like it. You shouldn’t be treated like this.”
I stared at the envelope and that wicked curl of dread got worse. I felt like a lump had settled in my stomach.
“What…” I stopped and cleared my throat as my voice threatened to crack. “What is this?”
He just continued to hold it out until I had no choice but to take it.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I was just…I wanted to apologize. To her. And that’s when I saw them.”
He took off without further explanation, disappearing down the sidewalk at a quick clip.
***
My gut was raw.
Bent over the toilet, I wretched for what felt like the millionth time. I wanted to curl up into a ball and die, but I couldn’t do that because I needed to pack my stuff. I needed to get the hell out of here.
But all I could do was sit there.
Slowly, feeling like I’d aged a thousand years in the past few minutes, I forced myself away from the commode and sat with my back against the wall. Staring at nothing, I willed myself to find the energy to move.
I had to move.
I didn’t know where Dominic was, but I didn’t want to be here, on the floor, stinking of sweat and vomit when he came in.
I didn’t want to be surrounded by pictures, by the evidence of how gullible I’d been.
Tears burned my eyes.
I was a
fool
.
I was an idiot.
A naïve, foolish idiot.
And I loved him.
I loved him so much it hurt.
Even now.
If he came in and talked to me, I didn’t know what would happen. Would I let him talk me into staying? Could he talk me into it? I just knew that I lost my head when I was with him. I didn’t think clearly, and that’s what had made me vulnerable to...I couldn’t give him the opportunity to convince me to stay, the chance to humiliate me.
I forced myself upright. Flushing the toilet, I went through the motions of washing my hands, my face. I brushed my teeth and threw the toothbrush away. My mouth still felt nasty so I took a swig of mouthwash. I didn’t feel better, but I was back in control of myself. I almost left the pictures on the floor, but in the end, I scooped them up and dumped them on my bed.
I didn’t plan on ever sleeping there again.
I didn’t know where I was going, or what I would do, but I did know I was leaving here.
Packing would take too long.
I didn’t even pack everything, just enough to fill two suitcases. That would get me through a couple of weeks, I knew. I’d learned how to pack light and travel easy, thanks to going back and forth to the Hamptons so often.
The thought of the house and all that had happened there brought a fresh lance of pain through my heart and I wanted to bend over, clutch at my chest, scream from the misery of it. But I didn’t.
I just kept packing.
I didn’t know how long it had taken, from the time I’d entered the penthouse to when I finally picked up my bag and walked out. I left the keys behind me, a bit of finality, because I didn’t plan on coming back. And I didn’t need the temptation they would offer. I had to make a clean break.
The doorman was one of the men I didn’t know well and still in a dull state of shock, I didn’t think to avoid him, just told him I needed a cab. He stared at me, clearly concerned and asked if he could call Dominic.
“No!” I practically shouted the word as panic flooded me.
He held out a hand, almost looking panicked himself. “It’s okay, Miss Aleena. I’ll get you a cab, of course.”
He immediately stepped to the curb and raised his hand. I watched, but didn’t really pay attention as a cab pulled up. If I’d been less out of it, I’d have thought something of how long he spoke to the driver before opening the back door for me, but my brain wasn’t working at its best, focused only on getting away.
I gave the driver Molly’s address as I climbed into the back seat, and once the door was shut, I curled in on myself and cried.
Chapter 9
Dominic
“There’s nothing.”
The small diner where Kowalski and I sat was bland and nondescript, perfect for this kind of meeting. He’d called me directly since I’d forgotten to give him Aleena’s information. He’d agreed that if I was trying to keep this low profile, it was best that I not be seen meeting with a man that any number of people would likely make as a cop.
He wasn’t a cop now.
But he had been. And he told me,
once a cop, always a cop
.
I’d had a lot of experience with officers of the law when I’d been a rebellious teenager and I knew that most people could’ve picked him out of a room as being in law enforcement.
It was the eyes.
They saw everything.
Running my tongue across my teeth, I considered his words, but didn’t respond right away. There could be several ways to take what he’d told me. Either he had nothing to tell me, no updates, or there was nothing he could unearth…if it was that, then I was pissed. He’d said himself that he was the last resort.
I took a sip of my coffee. It was surprisingly good. The diner he’d selected was a hole in the wall, the kind of place I wouldn’t have chosen to save my life. Which just meant I didn’t always know as much as I like to think I did. The bill had already been put on the table. The coffee cost less than three dollars. I’d paid four times that for coffee that tasted like shit. I made a mental note to make sure I told Aleena about it.
Putting down the cheap, excellent coffee, I tried not to sound accusatory. “What do you mean nothing?”
“Just that.” He flipped open the file he’d brought with him. “As of yet, I have nothing to tell you. I’ve done a surface check with the legit adoption agencies. Now, if your adoption was closed, that makes it more problematic. You have to know the right tricks.” He paused and gave me a small, closed-lip smile. “I know the right tricks. I’ve got some feelers out. There were a few pops, some names that came up, but none of them felt right. A couple of the boys that match your description—blond male, blue eyes—have already come up and I’ve ID’d them.” A shadow flickered through his eyes. “One died before his first birthday. Another passed away from leukemia when he was twelve. Others, I’m working on. We’re lucky that only a handful of boys with your description were born in the New York area.” He paused and added, “You’re sure you were born in New York State?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “That’s one of the few things my adoptive mother told me.”
My phone buzzed. I looked down, checked the number, then set the phone aside. I didn’t know it, but if it was important, they’d leave a message.
“I’ll continue looking into open adoptions, but I’m going to start checking the closed adoptions, talking to some of the people I know who handled the private ones.” Kowalski paused and said, “This will take time.”
“I’ve waited this long.” I was frustrated, but not discouraged.
He nodded. “It would help if I could talk to somebody who was there when you were brought home. Any employees, family friends…” He left the sentence hanging.
Grimly, I stared at him and then slowly, I said, “You can try talking to my adopted father, but I doubt he’ll be willing to talk at all.” I felt half-dead inside as I added, “He barely sees me as his son anymore. He won’t go out of his way to help me.”
My phone buzzed again. It was the same number. Who the hell kept calling me?
Kowalski glanced at it. “If it’s urgent, I’m fine to wait.”
I shook my head. “This takes priority.”
“Of course.” He reached into his jacket and withdrew a pen and paper. “Your father’s information?”
I had to flip through my phone to find it and a text came through at the same time.
This is Geoffrey Carter from Regent. I apologize for disturbing you, but we keep your number on hand in cases of urgent matters and I need to speak with you regarding Aleena Davison. Please call me at your earliest convenience.