The Girl in the Mirror (Sand & Fog #3) (23 page)

Oh crap, I forgot about this.

CP:
Can you come to the house, please?

Changing directions, I head up the front steps and ring the bell. Minutes pass without the door being answered and when it finally opens, I tense. Chrissie has answered it herself and doesn’t look happy.

Oh no, not good, Jake.

“Thank you for coming up,” she says politely, gesturing me in and closing the door behind me. “I’m glad I caught you before you left for the night. I’d planned to do this early, but I’ve had me a day.”

She makes a playful laugh, and I smile instead of trying to say something since it isn’t possible to talk while looking at her, even if I didn’t know I’d slept with her daughter.

She moves through the house without glancing back at me. I’ve never been inside the main house before. It’s not what I expect. It has a cozy and comfy charm, welcoming and not intimidating, more like Chrissie and less like Alan.

She enters the kitchen, pauses at the island, and turns back to wait for me, pointing at a barstool across from her.

“You’re off work, right?” she asks.

I nod and sit as directed.

From a cabinet she pulls out a bottle, then goes to another for two glasses.

“You’re probably wondering why I wanted to speak to you,” she says, focusing on filling the glasses with short pours of scotch. She lifts her face, locking me in her blue stare. “You do drink, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her tinkling laughter fills the air as she shoves a glass across the marble counter to me. “No, Jacob. I’m Chrissie. I’m not the Queen of England. You don’t have to call me ma’am.”

She swallows down her laughter, but her eyes are sparkling.

I take the drink even though I don’t want it because it feels like someone’s turned up the heat in the room and the warning is flashing through my veins that this discussion isn’t going to go in any direction I can anticipate.

Her cheeks pink prettily as she hides her smile behind the rim of her glass. For a while, she studies me, then she settles on the stool on her side of the kitchen.

Her eyes widen and she plants her elbows on the counter with her chin in her palms. “You’re probably wondering what this is about,” she says seriously. “It’s nothing terrible. I realized we hadn’t talked before and I thought we should before you leave for New York with Krystal. How do you feel about that?”

I resist the urge to loosen my collar. “Which? Us talking or me going to New York with Krystal?”

Her amusement erupts with fresh gales. “I’m flexible. Why don’t you tell me both? This is about me getting to know you and”—her brows shoot up on her forehead, widening her eyes to the fullest—“you getting to know us better.”

I fumble for a response. “I plan to do my job to the best of my abilities as instructed.”

“That’s good to know. But that’s not really an answer to anything.” She makes a nonsensical expression that has the opposite effect. My already taut muscles grow tauter. “I wasn’t enthusiastic on the idea of you.”

Idea of me?

What the hell does that mean?

“You see—” Then she lapses into silence again, stretching my nerves tighter as she takes a painfully slow sip from her drink. “A bodyguard for Krystal was Alan’s idea. He worries a lot, and is pretty much paranoid and careful about everything. In case you haven’t figured that out by the number of you he has employed here. Ridiculous. I’ve always thought that, but you have to compromise in marriage, and this was a small thing to let Alan have his way.”

By how she’s staring at me I can tell she doesn’t know anything about the security concerns at the house. The daily threat list every guard gets every morning. The number of breaches and the real dangers to them that on occasion mix with the nuisance fans.

I sit back, stunned.

Alan doesn’t tell this woman anything.

No wonder she’s so freaking happy all the time.

“We fought about you from the moment Krystal decide to attend Juilliard,” she continues. “Alan is a protective man. Too much of that father thing with his daughters at times. He considers things that are never going to happen. He doesn’t want Krystal in New York alone because he thinks the problems in Western Europe are coming here sooner not later. He’s wrong, but that’s what he thinks.”

I stare stonily forward and pass on commenting, though I can tell she expects some kind of reply.

“I’m the one who picked you,” she says, smiling. “Do you know why?”

I shake my head. God, is this ever going to be over and make sense? I want to get out of here.

“I picked you not in spite of your service record, but because of it. You did the right thing even though it cost you a lot. I respect you for that. And you have a sister.”

She pushes up from her chair and starts rinsing her glass at the sink. That doesn’t help to clarify why she wanted this chat with me or where it’s going.

“You see,” she murmurs without looking at me, “a month ago Alan said something to change my mind about Krystal having a bodyguard in Manhattan. He said, ‘Chrissie, don’t think of him as a bodyguard. Think of him as a professional big brother, love. Krystal isn’t a savvy girl. She’s just like you were at eighteen.’”

Shutting off the water, she pauses there and laughs, then comes back to her seat.

“That got me. I agreed with Alan we should do this. So I went through the employment files and I picked you. And so we understand each other, you’re not a bodyguard, because she doesn’t need one and it would be absurd to hire her one. You’re there as insurance. To help her out when she needs it and for emergencies if something happens there and we can’t get there quickly enough. You don’t work for Krystal. You don’t work for Alan. You work for me. Any questions?”

I open my mouth but the sound that I hear isn’t my voice.

“What do you mean you’re sending me to college with a bodyguard? Have you lost your mind, Mom? No, you’re not doing this. I won’t let you turn me into some freak there.”

Krystal is standing in the doorway.

“K-bell, it’s not like that. Let me explain,” Chrissie counters calmly.

“There is nothing you could say, Mom, that would make this OK for me.”

Krystal darts from the doorway. The family room slider is opened and slammed.

Chrissie lets out a loud breath. “That did not go well.”

She stares, an anxious crinkle in her golden brows, and then moves from the island.

“Please, ma’am. Why don’t I go talk to her? She’s upset with you. She might listen to me.”

Those brilliant blue eyes search my face. Her brow puckers. “I’m not sure. Maybe you’re right…or, I don’t know…what I’m trying to say is, I’d appreciate if you tried. This is how it is and Alan’s not changing his mind. Not after that call from the British finance minister. Alan thinks he’s more right than ever that something terrible is going to happen in the US soon. We need to smooth this out. Yes. I think you should go talk to her.”

The air I’d been holding in my lungs too long—because that took entirely too long—releases and I set down my glass and go after Krystal, trying not to look like I’m rushing but, fuck, internally I’m running.

The backyard’s empty but I don’t need a tracking device to know where she’s gone. I head for the dance studio.

Krystal’s sitting in the center of the room crying, her legs pulled in close to her, tightly held by her arms. I can’t tell for sure what her expression means; my heart twists anyway.

I cross the wood floor and crouch down next to her. “I was planning to talk about this with you tonight when I called.”

Her eyes flash. “Oh my God. You knew about this before they told me. You went to bed with me knowing they’ve hired you as some sort of keeper for me in Manhattan.”

Tears stream from her eyes, and I swallow the lump in my throat as I reach out to touch her face. “It’s not like that, Krystal—”

She slaps my hand away before my fingers get to her cheek.

“I’m sorry. You have a right to be angry with me. Hear me out. I know there’s no excuse for any of it, but I need to explain—”

Her ravished blue eyes silence me.

“Angry doesn’t touch what I’m feeling, you jerk. I would never have slept with you if I’d known I was ever going to see you again. And definitely not if I’d known I’d be stuck sharing my apartment with you in Manhattan. Your greatest appeal was that I’d never see you again.”

She jumps to her feet and runs from the studio.

I stare at the vacant room, trying to figure my next move. I know what I want to do, what I should do, but Krystal’s perspective was heart-rippingly direct.

No, I’m not going after her. I don’t matter. I never did. She’s made that clear.

“Krystal”

“No, Daddy. This is not OK. I just want to live a normal life. Don’t you get that?”

I stare at my cell as Alan’s eyes flash.

“You don’t pay attention to things, sunshine. There’s a lot going on in the world. And you have a normal life, as normal as this world lets it be. We have to be practical and smart. The realities are the same in New York as they are in Pacific Palisades. Jacob Merrick is going to Manhattan with you. End of subject.”

I clench my teeth as I shake my head. “You’re being absurd. Don’t you know that? How could you do this? No wonder Kaley ran off with Bobby at eighteen and then married. She did it to get out of this box you have us living in. To have a normal life. Not this.”

The features of my dad’s face smooth over into something enigmatic. Damn, I hurt him with that. I didn’t want to, but it had to be said. He means well, but sometimes it seems he can’t see what he’s doing to us. Even Mom hates all the security and thinks it’s stupid.

“Do you know why I’m in the UK, Krystal? Why I up and left suddenly to come and do an endless stream of public appearances, when I haven’t done that in years?”

Oh great, now he’s changing the subject. Trying to get his way by confusing me.

“What does this have to do with me going to Manhattan with a bodyguard?”

He rakes his unruly black hair from his face. “It has everything to do with it, Krystal. I’m here because the British Government reached out to me to calm the panic in the UK. The euro has collapsed. The pound has collapsed. The economies of Western Europe are in a death spiral. The UK finance minister personally rang and asked me not to pull my UK assets. They’re worried and should be. That’s the reality of the world we live in outside of your dance studio, baby girl.”

My face burns.

That was mean, Daddy.

“That’s Europe, not the US. What does that have to do with anything?”

My dad’s eyes grow darkly intense and somber. “It’s Europe today. It’s the States very soon. I want you to go to New York. I want you to chase your dreams. I’m not willing to have you there alone when what I’m seeing in Europe hits America.”

“I don’t care about any of that, Daddy. Haven’t you heard a single word I’ve said? I just want a normal life. If it hits, I’ll cope and manage like the rest of the country will. Like normal people living a normal life.”

“And that’s what I want for you. But if our recession slips into a depression you are going to see things you’ve never seen happen on American streets. It’s indescribable chaos when a society breaks down and people are frightened. We’re a wealthy family. We’ll be wealthy even if what I’m seeing happens at home. Any manner of threat could come our way. Like 2008, only worse.”

2008?

What chaos?

“The US is a safe country. Our economy is fine. You’re being extreme and unreasonable and paranoid as always. I should run away from home like Kaley did.”

My dad’s face hardens. “You don’t know how it is in Europe right now, sunshine.”

Damn, that was the biggest tantrum I could have and it isn’t working. No, Alan’s not changing his mind in this century.

My lips purse up, blowing out air, frustrated. “That has nothing to do with how unreasonable it is to send me to college with a bodyguard. Don’t I get a vote, Daddy? You couldn’t make me stand out more in the wrong way if you wanted to. You’re ruining my life.”

Alan rakes his hand through his hair. “I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am. What’s happening here is going to come to the States. One more shock to the global economy and it’s unavoidable. Economic collapse. Depression this time. Civil unrest in the streets. Millions of people broke overnight. ’08 will look like good times compared to this. Jacob Merrick is going with you. We’re not debating this further. I don’t want you alone there if it happens. Hard times always bring out the worst in people. Never the best, Krystal.”

“Clearly,” I snap then my cheeks burn. That was snotty. I’m not going to win and I’m certainly not going to change Alan’s mind with petty, hurtful comments he doesn’t deserve. “I’m sorry, Daddy. That was unkind.”

He relaxes back in his chair. “I know you didn’t mean it, sunshine. And I know you’re disappointed. I wish I could be there with you when you leave tomorrow. I’m going to miss you.”

Now I feel awful.

“Manhattan is on the way back from the UK,” I say, my face scrunching up to hold back my emotion. “You could always do a short hop to see me.”

My dad’s spectacular smile brightens his face. “Yes, I can. There isn’t anything on this earth I can’t do for you, Krystal. Thank you for reminding me and saying you want to see Pop.”

“I’m angry about this. Not angry with you, Dad. I love you.”

He nods, his mouth tightening. “I need to run, baby girl. You have a good night.”

“You, too, Daddy.”

Click.

I stare at the blank screen. That was pointless. I’m moving to Manhattan with Jacob Merrick.

Jacob—my heart rends.

God, I was horrible to him in the studio. Rightly so, because he shouldn’t have kept from me what my parents were up to and then slept with me. Dishonest, getting us tangled up together, and then knowing he can press the issue with me because we’re going to be living together. I didn’t take him for that kind of guy. An opportunist jerk.

I run my fingers through my hair, tightening them until my scalp hurts. He’s not a jerk. Whatever he did, it wasn’t because he’s that kind of guy. Maybe it just got out of control for him. It definitely got out of control for me.