Rock Wedding (Rock Kiss #4) - Nalini Singh Page 0,5
it and opened her door.
That was when she belatedly realized she’d been stupid to so easily trust a stranger. But before she could panic, he put her case inside, placed her key card on the nearest flat surface, then stepped back out into the hallway.
“This hotel has apartment levels,” he told her. “I live in the penthouse.” Reaching into his pocket, he took out a business card. “Here. Take this. Call me if you need anything.”
Sarah’s fingers closed over the black gloss of the card. “Why are you being so kind?” Her voice was hoarse.
“Because you’re a beautiful woman in distress, and I want to play knight in shining armor.” His smile was disarming, his teeth Hollywood perfect against tanned skin that didn’t look fake but as if he’d caught exactly the right amount of sun. “And because I hope someone would help my sister if she was ever in the same position.”
Tears threatened again, this time in relief. He was just a nice man, not someone who wanted her to “spread her legs.” Abe’s ugly words, they still hurt so bad, still made her feel so dirty and used. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure.” His smile faded. “Now go have a bath, order room service, and remember, you can call me anytime.”
Nodding, Sarah shut the door.
Then, though she didn’t consciously realize it, she waited. Because if Abe had been drunk or high when he said what he had, Sarah would give him the chance to make things right. And, even as she made it clear that he had to get sober, this time for good, she’d try to forgive him for the wounds he’d placed on her heart. Maybe it wasn’t the most sensible choice, but Sarah loved Abe too much to simply walk away without a backward look.
So she made sure her phone was charged, that it was always with her, that she was never in an area without a signal. And she waited.
For hours. Then days, then two long weeks.
The cards still worked, but instead of staying on at the hotel, she moved to a much more ordinary apartment where the rent was such that her neighbors were all hardworking, blue-collar people who smiled at her and made her feel normal for the first time in two years. She couldn’t embarrass herself here, could be just Sarah who had only a partial high school education but who could work hard too, who’d done blue-collar work herself before she met Abe.
And she continued to wait.
It was on the thirtieth day after she’d walked out of the house that she accepted Abe wasn’t going to call her, wasn’t going to apologize for the horrible, hurtful things he’d said. The man she loved with every beat of her heart didn’t care that she was all alone in this huge city, didn’t care about her tears or her broken heart or the fact that she missed him so much she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t sleep.
I don’t love you.
Your job is to keep looking like a hot piece of ass and to hang on my arm when I need you to. Otherwise, stay the fuck out of my life.
Flinching at the memory, she got out the credit cards she’d only used for food and shelter at that point and went to methodically cut them to pieces, then thought fuck him. If he could shit on her dreams, if he could treat her like she was worthless trash, then he deserved all the pain she could dish out.
Sarah stood, washed her face, put on her best day dress, and slipped her feet into flats. Ready, she went on the shopping spree to end all shopping sprees. She wasn’t stupid; she’d been poor too long to be stupid. She bought the kind of clothes a woman would need if she was looking for work. Not skimpy dresses suitable for a rock star’s wife and formal gowns appropriate for music awards.
Simple skirts and pants, clean-cut but quality shirts that’d last, neat work dresses. She bought shoes to go with them.
She bought a fucking car because she needed a vehicle to navigate this sprawling city. It was a candy-apple-red MINI Cooper with a white top, cute and fast and so much more Sarah than the Jaguar that had always made her feel like an imposter. She bought jewelry, not because she wanted the jewelry, but because it was an asset she could put in a safe-deposit box and sell off if necessary.