Betrayal (Infidelity Book 1) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,15
down to put the DVD in the DVR. “Jane, I’m going to take a quick shower and rinse off today’s crud.”
She looked my way. “Hurry, child. Don’t forget the ice cream.”
“Oh, I won’t.”
About ten minutes later with my long hair in a towel wearing shorts and an oversized t-shirt, I opened the bathroom door. From the bathroom all I heard was the opening music to our show playing over and over. But as I stepped out, I heard Jane shutting and locking my door again.
“Did you forget something?”
Her rosy expression was gone. “No.”
“What is it?”
She walked toward me and grabbed my hand. Giving it a squeeze, she said, “Nothing at all. Let’s not spoil our reunion.”
“Jane?”
“You had a visitor.”
My heart fell to my stomach as my knees grew weak.
“See. That look there is why you don’t need to know any more.”
I knew whom she meant. “What did he say?”
“Said he wants you to stop upsetting Mrs. Fitzgerald.”
I sighed. “God, I hate it here!”
Jane patted my arm. “I said you would probably be awhile. You were indisposed. I offered to give you the message and may have mentioned that we were planning an all-nighter—a movie marathon.”
Swallowing, I nodded weakly. “Jane, tell me again.”
“What, baby girl?”
“What you used to tell me.”
“You’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on the out.” Her cheeks rose. “And, baby, with those knockers—sorry, cushions—you’re gorgeous on the outside. Don’t let anyone or anything ever make you forget that.”
She took a step toward the ice cream and stopped. Turning back to me she added, “And you ain’t no baby no more, Miss Alex Collins. You’re a beautiful, successful adult.”
“Thank you, Jane.”
“Now, let’s eat some ice cream, or we’ll be drinking mint chocolate chip milk.”
“Yuck!”
CHELSEA NUDGED HER elbow into my side. “It’s time.”
“M-Maybe.” I hesitated. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
She smiled her most encouraging smile. “Stop it. I know you can do this.”
She was my biggest cheerleader. Through everything—tests, papers, late night studying, and even the occasional boyfriend—Chelsea was always there, telling me I could do it. She was truly the sister I’d never had. I sometimes wondered what it would have been like to have a sister growing up, someone to talk to—about anything. But then, I’d remember what she would have had to live through, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
“I’m still not sure what I’m doing.”
She waved to the bartender and leaned closer. “You know those bracelets people used to wear? The ones that said WWJD—what would Jesus do?”
“Yes?” I answered suspiciously, certain that she didn’t mean for that to be her advice.
“Well, pretend you’re wearing one that says WWCD. Whenever Alex starts to respond or react, stop and think, what would Chelsea do?” She winked. “Charli would do, and then do that.”
“I’m not going to sleep—”
“Of course you’re not going to sleep. You’ll be awake the whole time. Just be sure to come back and tell me everything!”
I shook my head. “What if—?”
“Stop. Stop overthinking this. It’s dinner. That’s all. We’re on our me vacation. Have fun. Next week boring Alex can be back in your head. Let Charli have some fun.”
“Boring?”
Chelsea pressed her lips together and scrunched her nose. “I didn’t say that aloud, did I?”
Standing, I looked down at Chelsea’s high-heeled sandals and smoothed the material of my blue dress. Shrugging I said, “Maybe I’m just getting better at mental telepathy.”
“Good. That’ll make it easier to know what to do.” She touched her temples with the tips of her fingers. “I’ll be in your head all night.”
My heart beat faster with each step toward the doorman’s desk.
What if my mystery man didn’t think I’d follow through? What if he didn’t tell the doorman? I’d look like a complete idiot—that’s what would happen.
By the time I reached the counter, the palms of my hands were moist. Instead of thinking of what-ifs, I tried to concentrate on the click of my shoes against the marble floor and channel my best friend.
“May I help you?” asked the tall man with the same color jacket as all of the resort employees.
Squaring my shoulders and securing the mask of my upbringing, I replied, “Yes, I was told to tell you that my name is Charli.”
His dark eyes sparkled. “Yes, Miss Charli. I’m Fredrick, and we’ve been awaiting your arrival.”
I swallowed my apprehension. After all, this was good. Now more than Chelsea knew my whereabouts. Fredrick did too. He picked up the telephone and after a few moments said, “Yes sir, I’m escorting Miss Charli