The Entitled (The Entitled Duet #1) - Cassandra Robbins Page 0,117

found Reed’s at eight. My fifteenth birthday. Eating hot dogs in the rain, and this moment. The grand ballroom is packed with people, but I see only us. This is what Reed was saying about us having to be careful. I don’t know what exact action or word has triggered this strange enlightenment inside me. But it’s awake and I can’t ever let it go.

The instruments fill my senses. Lifting my head, I look at his handsome face.

“I love you. I truly love you.” My voice comes out raspy and fierce.

He grins. “I know.”

I laugh at his arrogance. His full lips brush mine. He twirls me, then pulls me into his warmth.

“You make me happy, Tess Rose Gallagher.”

My eyes sting with tears as he twirls me one more time. On the last note, he dips me. And I smile knowing he won’t let me fall.

TESS

Present day – twenty-five years old

Santa Monica, CA

I’m sitting in my living room, going over my checklist in my mind. Pudding, my Samoyed is at Logan and Brance’s house. My hair has been trimmed and styled. My makeup is perfect: smoky eyes, light blush, and nude lips along with matching nails. My Bottega Veneta luggage is next to me along with my phone and wine.

Thank God for the wine. Tilting my head back, I close my eyes, the spellbinding voices of Mirella Freni and Pavarotti weaving their magic through my house. I’m calm, which should alarm me, but after my hysterics this morning, I have given into my fate. I know what I have done is horrible. So wrong, that it doesn’t matter anymore. As soon as I land in Manhattan, I will have to atone for my sins.

Lifting my head, I blink at the large living room. Yellow, it’s my favorite color. It makes everything cheerful and fresh.

I love my house and my neighborhood. It has green lawns, and everyone has a dog, a kid, or both. It’s home. So why do I feel like I might not be seeing it for a while? Shaking away my morose thoughts, I stand and take my empty wineglass into the kitchen and rinse it. Looking longingly at the half-empty bottle, I know I need to stop. I have responsibilities, and it’s not like I can go ahead and drink the whole bottle and forget. I’ve tried that, yet somehow I still remember, still crave him, hate him.

The doorbell rings and energy instantly surges through my body. A wave of dizziness seizes me. Slowly, I walk to my front door taking deep, calming breaths. Hesitating a moment, I unlock my two dead bolts and open it.

It’s like I have gone back in time. Except Jay is in Santa Monica, California instead of New York. He looks the same. The man must be in his midforties, but he looks the same.

“Jay, thank God they sent you.”

The tears sting my eyes. He removes his mirrored aviators, his dark suit looking out of place in my family neighborhood.

“Tess, you get more beautiful every time I see you.” His smile is real. Not being able to stop, I throw myself into his arms.

He stiffens at first, then pulls me in for a tight, warm hug.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble. “I know this is completely unprofessional.” Sniffling, I wish I had a Kleenex.

“I need a friend. Tell me you’re on my side. Please, Jay, I need at least one person from their camp on my side.” The wine has not helped. If anything, it’s making me lose it. I pull away and look at him. He does look good—besides the lines around his eyes, the man looks exactly the way he did when we were teenagers. Realizing that we are standing outside on my brick driveway, I motion for him to come in.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He looks around my house. His eyes zero in on my half-empty bottle of wine.

“I’m over twenty-one now, Jay. You don’t have to worry about losing your job,” I snip, suddenly feeling like I’m fifteen again.

“I never worried about losing my job.” He looks up and down at my décor. “That’s what always amused me with you three. So arrogant and sure of yourselves and how your lives were going to turn out.”

He puts his hands in his pockets. “Brad hired me to do a job, Tess. That job was to protect his sons and you. I gave them a detailed report every Monday morning at nine a.m. sharp on everything you guys did that