Surrender to You (16 page)

For the longest time, she sat on the couch on the rooftop patio. The air up there was always comfortable, and on the clearest of days, the sky over the bay offered the best view.

An endless line of doctors tried to reassure Carlie, but none of the words ever sank in.

“You did a great job taking care of your mother, but she lost her fight with cancer. Did she ever tell you her prognosis wasn't good in the first place?” She was numb the whole time, like she was now. “Parents never tell their children the bad news until it's too late.”

I took her to the funeral home, her appointment with the bank to settle her mother's affairs, anywhere she needed to go.

A majority of the time, I did the talking. Seeing her just going through the motions tore into me.

More time passed, but Carlie didn't do much.

A call from Roland came at the best time: Carlie had a visitor from the hotel.

We were on the roof watching the TV under the pergola when one of my hotel guests, Carver Murphy, came by for a visit. We chatted occasionally about his business dealings in the Midwest, and he was a decent guy. I wasn't sure why he wanted to see Carlie, though.

She didn't do anything special for our guest. Most of the time, Carlie was impeccable in makeup and dresses, but today she lounged in a T-shirt and a pair of jean shorts. The fuzzy bunny slippers were unexpected, as well.

“Hey, Carlie.” Carver waved at her and she offered a small smile back.

“I thought you had left town on business,” I told him.

He glanced at Carlie, a morose expression on his face. “I was in Chicago for a while with a case, but I had to come back to Boston. This place is turning into a second home for me.”

“Does that mean you might be settling down? Ending the single life?” she joked halfheartedly.

“I don't know about that. I've been a bachelor for a long time.”

They sat in silence for a bit. He waited patiently for her to speak first.

“Have you been drinking your shakes?” she finally asked him.

“Those shitty things? Sometimes my cook makes them for me when I order something bad.”

That made her smile for the first time in days. “I want a disgusting cheeseburger right about now. Something that I would regret later.”

He laughed and she laughed soon after. It was good to see her smile.

“How are you holding up?” he asked her.

“I'm doing fine.” The side of her mouth puckered as if she'd bit it. “Like you said, I take things one day at a time.”

He nodded. “That's all we can do.”

A cooking show appeared on the outdoor TV and Carver groaned. “You do know you're torturing yourself, don't you?”

I was thinking the same thing, but I'd kept that thought to myself since she showed some interest in it every now and then. Having her feel better was all that mattered to me.

“This channel is like crack,” she replied. “They have a show about diners and drive-ins. Shows about barbecue. Shows about candy.”

“But nothing on gluten-free dining?” Carver relaxed against the seat.

“Nope. I can still eat plenty of this stuff.”

I got up to pour her some more green tea and a glass for Carver. Just hearing them banter back and forth was refreshing. I had yet to get her to open up like that for me—which meant she needed friends right now, too.

They were still going at it when I came back.

“You would either go into diabetic shock eating that cake or you'd be in the bathroom for days with a sugar-free version,” Carlie said.

“I'd die a happy man.”

“Cake should not be deadly.”

We sat quietly watching TV for a while until Carver spoke again. “I'm glad I got a chance to help you find your mom.”

“I am, too.” She took a sip of her drink. “I didn't want to ask for help—from anyone—but you ignored my protests and made the impossible possible. Thank you.”

“Thanks, Carver,” I added.

“Naw, man. This one was on the house from the beginning. Your lady deserved to find her mom. I'm glad she had the chance to get to know her.”

We finished watching the cooking show before Carver said his goodbyes. Carlie hadn't said much since we talked about her mom and she continued to be that way for the rest of the week.

October became November, and by that point, Carlie rarely left the hotel.

One morning, I found her lying in bed. On her cellphone were many messages from her friends. They had been reaching out to her, but she wasn't responding to them.

Instead of going to work that day, I curled up next to her and held her.

“Hey, Car.”

Someone cuddled up behind me and ran her hand down the side of my face. It was Sophie. Penny lay down near my feet. In front, Griffin sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand.

Sophie's perfume filled my nose and I managed a small smile.

“Hey, Ashley,” I said to her.

“Why haven't you called me back?” Sophie asked softly.

“Because I've been out of it.”

“I was hoping for more than a text.”

I sighed and the tears that always sat on the edge of my vision threatened to come again. “I just knew that if I called you, I wouldn't be able to speak.” I covered my mouth to stop myself from sobbing and failed.

“You don't have to talk, Car.” She held me close and stroked the back of my head. When we were kids, I was the one who comforted her. This time it was her touch that calmed me. “You never have to talk.”

Penny was already crying and I just lost it. All this week, I'd wanted to go back to the U.K. I was tired of feeling tired. I just wanted to dig myself a hole and bury myself inside, but right now, at this very second, the chill along my back went away and the emptiness I'd once wanted to fill with family didn't feel as empty.

We sat like that for a while, I wasn't sure how long, until Penny spoke. “You smell.”

I laughed and Griffin did, too.

“You're such a bitch, Penny,” he snorted.

“Well, she does.” Penny got up and took Griffin's hand. “Let's go get some coffee while Sophie gets her ass out of bed. We can have lunch after she freshens up.”

I'd forgotten about the family lunch we did once per month. We always got together, even when I was overseas and had to video chat while they ate.

I missed last month.

Apparently, they weren't going to let me miss today.

Sophie dragged me out of bed, made me take a long shower, and forced me to put on something other than yoga pants.

“You make a pencil skirt look good,” Sophie said. “About as good as me. Maybe.”

I gave her the finger.

“You have someone else to take care of that,” she replied.

“Not lately.”

She leaned in and kissed my cheek. “You don't need
that
right now, but he's there for you if you need him. He's the one who called us over.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. So we're here to take you out to get some chow. I know plenty of places that offer gluten-free options.”

Sophie fetched some heeled sandals for me and put them on my feet. My toenails were atrocious.

“Thanks, Soph.”

I was tearing up again, but this time I was content.

Her smile said it all. “Always.”

The monthly lunch with the crew had been a long-standing tradition that started back when there had been more than seven of us. As time had passed, Lillian had moved off to Florida, I'd left for the U.K., and Sophie told me Mackenzie had simply disappeared for places unknown. Which was unusual since we'd been there for each other growing up. For the past couple of years, I'd attended our monthly lunch through a tiny screen on my smartphone. Seeing everyone up close and personal was nice.

We could've gone anywhere in town, but Tomas had shoved an American Express Centurion into my hand with a warning: enjoy a nice lunch or I'd receive a punishment like no other. As much as I needed pleasure to make the pain go away, the idea of going on a dick diet was worse, so I relented.

What better way to spend hundreds of dollars than to eat lunch at the restaurant on Dante's Second Floor? I wasn't an employee anymore, but a paying customer who knew the perks. One of them being the ambiance. Just the view alone would make our meal much more
interesting
. The looks on my friends' faces after the tour were totally worth it. Once we sat down and a server took our order, I was pleased to see Penny was speechless. For about five minutes.

“Why didn't I know about this place?” Penny whispered to Sophie.

“Because you can't afford a hotel that charges over a thousand dollars per night,” Sophie replied. “I might have to plan a weekend getaway with Xavier.”

I chuckled as a server brought us some water.

Penny pursed her lips. “I have a savings account for this kind of thing. If I'd known this was the view…” Our server, Chris, one of the more handsome staff members, had caught Penny's eye.

And, as if right on cue, Mr. Frasier was walking Millicent. He spotted me and strolled over.

“Ms. Jason, I haven't seen you in so long,” he said with a bright smile. “I was worried you quit.”

I smiled at him. “I did, Mr. Frasier, but I guess I can't stay away forever.”

Today was just another afternoon for him and his pet. “Hopefully, I'll see more of you. My Millicent asked about you the other day.”

Griffin couldn't keep his eyes off Millicent. Most men couldn't. Today she wore a golden leash and a bright red garter belt. Every time she shifted, a tiny bell around her neck jingled.

“How sweet of her.” Since I'd started working here, I'd come to find the more permanent guests were pretty cool people. The ones who came and went were demanding, but the clients who stayed made this a worthwhile workplace.

With a wave and a polite goodbye, Mr. Frasier left.

Griffin was still staring.

“You okay, Griff?” I asked, trying not to tease him too much.

“Damn, that
ass,
” he murmured.

“I wish my tits were that perky,” Sophie added.

“Xavier can buy you some,” Penny quipped.

Sophie giggled.

Just looking around the table, I was already feeling a bit at ease, but another feeling crept into my stomach. One that I faced from the time I woke up until the moment I lay down to go to sleep: an overwhelming need to run away.

The empty place in my heart was still raw with pain and being in Boston didn't seem wise. Originally I'd come here for my parents and now that they were both gone I wasn't sure what to do with myself.

As our food arrived, everyone dug in, but I only had a single bite of my lobster bisque. Griffin had stars in his eyes while he inhaled his massive filet wrapped in bacon. Sophie and Penny were comparing the length of their rainbow trout portions to porn star penises. For goodness sake, I should be laughing and joking with them.

But I couldn't, and dragging this decision out would only make things harder.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “There's something I need to say.”

They looked at me with concern. This would be the second time I drop-kicked a bomb on the table.

“What's up?” Sophie asked.

“I've decided to go back to the U.K.” I forced myself to look at them. “Just until I can clear my head.”

I waited for the protests—that was what they'd done when I told them I wanted Sophie to move to the U.K. with me, but they merely nodded—except Penny.

“I don't want to see you go, but I understand,” Sophie finally said. “What you're feeling is still raw and it will be for a while. You need to do what is best for you.”

“So you're just going to leave us?” Penny snapped. “After everything you've been through? I hate to be the one who gets out the damn-bitch card, but somebody needs to say something.”

“Penny,”
Griffin warned.

“Don't.” Her index finger went up to silence him and then she turned back to me. “I shouldn't be surprised you're pulling this shit. Running away is what you're good at doing.”

“Fuck you,” I bit out.

“Oh,
fuck
you back.” She threw a fry at me, but I didn't take the bait to all-out fight. “Yes, you've taken a hit. The
absolute
worst. And yes, you need time, but damn it, there's no
reason
for you to leave.”

I crossed my arms, swallowing away the growing fury rising in my stomach. I focused on the windows across the vast room. Maybe the calming skyline would keep me from tackling her ass. If I looked at her, I'd hurt her as much as she was hurting me. “I don't have to have a reason. I can't stay here anymore. It hurts.”

She blew out a breath. “That's real life. Real life fucking hurts. With your family, you get the good and the bad. We want you here so we can be there for you.”

I didn't want to
wait
it out. Now my feelings were out in the open, a weight had lifted off my shoulders. “What if I don't care anymore about whether I get the good or the bad? What if I'm worn so thin, I want to scream at the idea of looking at anything that reminds me of what I've lost?” I tossed my napkin beside my bowl. “I'm done. I've been done.”

I got up and stormed out of there. If I didn't leave, I'd say something I'd regret.

If I stayed another hour in Boston, my head was gonna explode. A quick search on my phone confirmed there was a red-eye leaving Logan International at ten that night. There were five seats free and soon I had a ticket in my purse ready to go. All I had to do was grab my shit in the penthouse and leave.

And yet leaving after everything I'd gone through with Tomas made me pause in the elevator going down. I shut my eyes and couldn't shut out what Penny had just said:
Running away is what you're good at doing.

As angry as I was with her right then, she had a point.

The elevator reached the lobby and I pressed the button to go to the third-floor offices.

I couldn't leave like this—now that Tomas and I had figured things out—I had to let him know I was heading overseas for a while. He deserved that much.

I reached his office and Wendy let me in with a nod. There he was, sitting behind his desk, unaware of the turbulent emotions crashing into me. I wanted to climb into his lap and cry until I didn't hurt anymore.

Just one look at my face, and he approached me. “What's wrong?”

My mouth opened and closed. How the hell did I tell him I wanted to leave? After everything I'd been through, he'd been there each minute, each second. My heart hurt, but I had to speak.

“I need to go back home.” A tear fell down my cheek and I didn't stop it. “Just for a little while.”

“Is there a problem in London? I can call—”

I sniffed and tried to find my voice. “No, everything's fine with my business. I'm the one who isn't fine.”

He drew me into his arms and I collapsed against him. Crying again was something I didn't want to do anymore.

“Don't fret, Gingerbread,” he said softly. “We don't have to stay here. How about a weekend in New York?”

The breath I meant to exhale got caught in my chest. “Not New York. Much farther—”

“You're not leaving me,” he said, his voice like stone. “Not anymore.”

“Then what else can I do?” I was wheezing now. “There's this pain right here.” I touched my heart. “And leaving seems like the only thing that makes sense. It's always been that way.”

I searched his face. Unable to stop myself, I brushed my fingertips along the hard lines of his jaw to his full lips. “I can't stay here anymore.”

“Then
we
don't have to stay.”

“What are you saying?”

“That I love you, Gingerbread.” He gently kissed my lips. “We'll see this through. I'm personally assessing two sites in a week or two. I can move the date up. Let's leave now.”

He never let me go after that. Not while he called Wendy to make arrangements for the private jet flight to Heathrow. Or when he called Saul to prepare his home in London.

I was going home soon, but the love of my life was coming with me.

The minute the jet set down at Heathrow, the tension in my stomach eased.

It was hard to describe. Once I got off the plane and we reached his tri-level brick home northwest of London, I felt so much better. Tomas and time would heal me and I'd head back to Boston when I cleared my head.

Now that we were here, naturally, I was curious as to where he stayed while he visited the U.K. Had he ever been here when I lived here?

Compared to his modern penthouse, the stately home behind the gated entrance seemed laid-back. Ivy covered parts of the front, and the arches over the windows were practically whimsical.

“You hungry?” he asked me as we entered the massive kitchen. He checked the fridge and I peeked behind him to see it full of food.

“Why don't we go out tonight?”
I'd kill for some pub food.

He frowned. “I was hoping we could eat in tonight like we did the other time. Just me and you. A couple of movies. Some popcorn and pizza.” He kissed my lips and wrapped his arms around me and I felt so calm. I could get used to feeling this way all the time.

“We're back in London and you want to spend the evening watching movies? Why not go out for drinks?” He drifted to my neck to kiss my pulse point.

“We could make a movie.” His gaze darkened.

“A
Star Wars
movie?”

“I could show you my light saber.”

I giggled like mad. “Will you be my Han Solo?”

“Damn right I will be. Although I think Chewbacca might be what you'd like.”

“Tall and hairy.” Having him close to me like this set me at ease. Sparks danced in his eyes and I didn't want this warm feeling to end. I finally had him on my turf.

He kissed my neck again and lifted me onto the desk. Our kiss deepened and my stress melted away. Only Tomas made me feel this way.

Then he began making snorting noises like Chewbacca. “I can do this until you give in…”

“Fine, then we'll watch a few movies after I get back.”

“Where are you going?”

“To my old flat. I should check it out.”

“I could have someone check it out for you, if you want.”

I shook my head. “Some time alone will do me some good. I also have a few text messages to read. Most of them are pissed-off messages from Penny.”

He placed his hand along my cheek and stroked the skin gently. I wanted more, but didn't say so. “Take my BMW then. Don't stay away long, Gingerbread.”

The drive to my old flat in West Smithfield was a good one. Driving through the outskirts of London could do that to you. I'd invested so much money settling here, including getting an apartment that most people couldn't afford. I had been lucky that an old client of mine from the United States was selling his home. The place had three bedrooms and he gave me a great price on it, as long as I let his cousin from Canada stay over the summer.

That was the kind of deal I didn't mind at all.

My home was in one of the many historic places in the northeastern part of London. I was within walking distance of the Museum of London, and there was nothing better than watching snow fall on St. Paul's Cathedral during the holidays. As much as I would've liked to live in a crib like Tomas's, I couldn't afford a multi-million-pound home. This city definitely wasn't welcoming unless you had cash to burn. When I came a few years ago, I had plenty to start my new business. Then I saw the cost of living and most of my savings quickly faded away.

My flat was quiet, though. I entered the living room first. Everything was as tidy as Paulie had left it. The summer had ended and he wasn't living there anymore. As I looked around at my place, my heart caught in my throat. My mom would've liked it here, especially since she liked to travel.

I wish I could have seen Europe, you know?
she'd said.
Seeing the U.S. was nice and all, but I dreamt bigger than that.

I sucked in a breath as I left my purse on the counter and looked out the kitchen window. Beyond the backyard was a field where kids played soccer. I'd traveled to many countries as a part of my job. I'd seen things, eaten things. I'd wanted her to get better so that she could experience those things with me.

You're back at square one, Carlie.
Just on a different game board. From my purse, I took the selfie I'd taken with her. Instead of the overwhelming sadness, a spark of hope passed through me. I was back in the U.K. Maybe I could get back on track too, and kick a few asses.

Mom wouldn't want anything less for me.

I was knocking out a bunch of phone calls and emails with old acquaintances, but a single text message had sat unanswered on my phone for the last twelve hours:

When are you going to contact Penny?

The message from Sophie mocked me every time I checked my smartphone. How did she even know Penny and I were fighting? Well, Sophie did live with her.

I sighed. Yes, we'd fought, but our fight didn't compare to when we got into a fistfight at sixteen over a broken gold necklace, or the time when she abandoned me to avoid a double date with two guys at eighteen. I barely knew them, by the way, and I still got pissed thinking about it. But Penny was my girl. My partner in crime who called me up to tell me how Sophie was doing when Sophie got too busy to call me. When I first moved to London, she'd texted me every other day about her zany phone sex customers. Even when I was with my mom, she kept up her end when I'd faltered with mine.

Now she'd gone silent since I'd left.

Being the bigger person should be easy with our long history, but I'll be honest. It took me three hours to finally send a single text:

We need to talk.

Then I waited. And waited some more. After two hours, I wasn't surprised. Right now it was midmorning in Boston. She had to be up by now to work a shift—which meant she was ignoring my ass.

Fine. Two could play that game. What I did know was she worked as an independent contractor for a phone sex company out of California. What I didn't know was the phone number. I pulled out my laptop and visited her work website, then dialed. Once the call went through, the menu options ranged from casual chat—yeah, right—to light BDSM to the kinkier aspects of BDSM. I didn't know what specifically Penny offered, but I did know her professional name there: Pretty Penny.

With a devilish grin, I slid into a slot for Pretty Penny and waited, listening for the click.

She answered soon after. “Hi, this is Pretty Penny…” she purred.

I had to admit, having never heard her in action, her smooth, melodious voice gave me tingles. “Hey, Penny.”

The face-smack silence on the other end of the line was expected.

Just not for two minutes straight
. This was an international phone sex call, after all.

“Look, I'm sorry,” I finally said.

“Whatever.”

“I shouldn't have left like that.” Yep, I was seriously apologizing over a phone sex hotline.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“What I should have done was climb across that table and kick your ass,” I grated.

She snorted.

I settled back in my office chair and curled my legs under me. “But I really do need some time to clear my head. Boston has too many painful memories right now.”

Forever stubborn, she didn't answer.

My voice rose. “Damn it, Penny, I'm being the adult and apologizing instead of sending you a text message. At least say something.”

“No.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “I've said my piece and I'll wait until you forgive me.”

“It's your dime,” she said stiffly.

I sighed. Time to pull out the big guns. “Since you're so mad, I guess I'll have to keep Carver's phone number to myself.”

“You think I need his number?”

I laughed. “You haven't seen what I've seen.” Like Carver without a shirt going for a morning swim…“He's a really nice guy. Tattoos and muscles for days. Also, I know for a fact that he's
single.
”

Just one look at Carver's gray-blue eyes, full lips, and bronze skin was more than enough to leave her hooked. She grumbled a bit then blurted, “I guess I can accept your apology for now—but you can't just walk away anymore.”

“I agree.” We both were quick to tell it like it is—a trait that made us abrasive to others but bonded us tightly together.

Now that we had cleared things up, I smiled, but I wasn't letting things go without a few parting words. “So…umm…are you gonna hook me up so this call is free?”

Now that I'd resolved things with Penny, I could spend a relaxing evening with Tomas watching a soccer match between Manchester United and Chelsea. I practically gorged myself on fish and chips. Ever the miracle worker, Tomas had the chef whip me up a gluten-free dish.

While we ate, I couldn't help but feel
normal
. Was this what it was like for regular couples? It wasn't like I hadn't dated before, but dating for me was nothing as simple as dinner together.

I looked briefly at Tomas. He pushed some popcorn into my mouth and I grinned like a fool.

“So who are you cheering for?” he asked.

“Chelsea, of course.”

“You're kidding, right?”

“Maybe I should be asking you that question.”

“I don't know if I can let you stay here if you keep talking like that. The Goodfellows have supported the Red Devils for decades.”

I smiled at him in the coyest manner. “And I've lived here for several years and I own six Chelsea T-shirts.”

“That doesn't mean you know any better.”

I punched his arm for good measure. “I happen to know a lot. Like you need to offer better guest services in your hotel rooms.”

He rolled his eyes. “Have you seen what some of the folks on the twenty-second floor have ordered?”

“I'm not talking about that floor—I'm talking about regular guest rooms. The ones who call the customer service desk all the time asking about dining and entertainment options.”

He crammed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Maybe so he wouldn't have to answer. “Have you ever thought about how much that would cost to develop?”

I laughed. “It's just a thought. Can you imagine how much revenue you could generate from touch screens in the rooms?” I kept going as ideas flooded my head.

He ran his hand down my arm. A definite attempt at distracting me. “I have ideas, too…”

“You keep touching me,” I whispered. “If you look away, your team is going to lose.”

“Well, at least somebody is gonna score tonight.”

I laughed. His caresses grew a bit bolder and his hand slid down the side of my breast. I sighed. The couch cushions were so comfortable. His touch was light, but I knew Tomas. Light wasn't his thing. I waited for him to grow bolder, to grip me tighter, but the laziness of our kiss grew longer.

His tongue was bold, not tentative like mine, gliding against mine until my toes curled. He turned over me, his body over mine. His spicy scent filled my nose and I couldn't do anything except wrap my arms around his waist.