“She’s asleep now, so I’ll pass on the message later. We’ll see you at the main house, Mrs. Harrison.”
“Excellent. Enjoy your day, Knox,” she says in a formal tone, and leaves the kitchen. Her heel clicks diminish until they fade away. I can only hope that the blowback from that ridiculous article will fade just as fast.
It might, but judging from the look on Isabelle’s face as she storms into the kitchen, what I admitted to her mom may take a while for her to get over.
“Let me see that!” she says and snatches the newspaper from me.
“Good morning, yourself. I take it that you heard everything.” She doesn’t answer, taking the time to find the article about us. She sits in the identical bar stool where her mother sat, and reads the entire article. Then she closes the paper again and thrusts it across the counter away from her. “The content is not worth the paper it’s written on,” she finally says in a huff, and turns to face me.
“Seems that way to me too,” I agree.
“And you! Don’t even think that it’s the only thing I’m upset about.”
“I figured as much. Look, Isabelle. That stuff about Pops… you know all three of them have been sticking their nose into our friendship. We’re getting closer in spite of them, not because of them. There’s a difference.”
“Did you tell your grandfather that you’d spend the weekend with me to get him off your back about marrying someone?” she demands.
“Jesus. You’re going to eat right out of their hands over this, aren’t you?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Listen to me. You and I, this friendship, the way we reconnected since that night at the engagement party, it has nothing to do with them!” I bark, and hate how out of control I sound. I’m so fucking close to losing my shit right now.
“Then tell me it’s not true!” she practically screams. “Tell me he didn’t put you up to luring me here this weekend.”
“Just because he made those demands, it doesn’t mean I didn’t already want you here. You’re being unreasonable. You’re confusing what’s real about us with the crap going on up at the main house.”
“So it’s true? Oh my god, I’m such an idiot.” She jumps off the bar stool and stomps up the hall toward the master bedroom.
“We’re here because we want to be here,” I shout after her and follow her to the door.
“No! I don’t want to be here! Not as some pawn to satisfy your grandfather’s wishes.”
“Will you stop and just calm down for a minute? You don’t have all the facts.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” She goes over to the walk-in closet and drags her empty suitcase with her, dumping it on the bed.
“What are you doing with that?” I ask and run a frustrated hand through my hair.
She goes back into the closet and brings out a handful of her clothes, still on their hangers. “I’m going home.”
“No. You’re not.” I stand in front of the suitcase, blocking her path.
“Move, Knox. Get out of my way.” She tries to move my body, but it’s impossible with our size difference.
“Why? For you to run again? Like you did at the engagement party? Or back in the limo?”
“Like you can talk,” she shouts at the top of her lungs. “You left me for ten whole years! I didn’t have a fucking clue what I did to you! And you didn’t give a crap whether I was alive or dead, happy or in the worst fucking pain of my life! You still don’t give a shit about me. I’m just here so your grandfather will get off your back and stop putting pressure on you to settle down.”
“That’s not true.”
“Well you know what? It doesn’t matter. I know what I need to know. I’m not staying here a second more.”
“All right, fine!” I’m at the end of my fucking rope. I can’t keep a leash on my rage for much longer. I’m fucking done. Stepping to the side, I walk out of the room and return to the guest room where my things are. We’re supposed to stay here another night, and I won’t leave Pops here alone. I grab my car keys and head up to the main house.
“Pops,” I call from the main floor foyer.
“In here.” I follow his voice to his smoking room and find him sitting in his easy chair with a pipe hanging out of his mouth. Senator Harrison is in the dark red leather sofa, about to cut the tip of a cigar.
“Hey there,” I say, trying to keep a lid on my anger. “Pops, I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“All right, son. You and Isabelle going into town? Keep your eye out for those pesky paparazzi people. Damn snoops,” he grumbles.
“Actually, I’m taking her back to the city. She wants to go home.”
Her father leans forward in his chair, interested now. “What? Is she all right?”
“Yes, she’s fine.”
He rests the cigar on the coffee table in front of him. “She probably saw that article. I know first-hand how much she hates when the media makes a spectacle of her. She’s just like her sister, but Bethany is a lot worse.” He chuckles. “Her sister moved two thousand miles away to get away from all this public scrutiny. Can’t say that I can blame her.” He gets to his feet. “I’ll talk to Isabelle.”
“All right,” I answer, and motion for him to go ahead of me. I follow him to the pool house, but we quickly see that there’s no sign of Isabelle. “She was just here. I don’t think she’d take my car.”
“Let’s check the front,” Senator Harrison suggests. “We drove here in Tandy’s SUV.”
We hurry to the front of the main house. My car is still there. Tandy’s SUV is also parked in the same spot. But we turn to the driveway entrance in time to see a catering van leaving through the wrought iron gates. Both windows
