Emma
Days and nights passed as I adjusted to my new suite and healed physically while simultaneously pushing away thoughts of what had happened. The suite had all the amenities of the one on the third floor with the added bonus of windows that opened and a door that led to Rett. The only deficiency was that being on the second floor, there wasn’t a button that magically opened the ceiling. That was all right. I could open windows.
When Rett had said that this suite was filled with things for me, he didn’t exaggerate. No longer did I need Ian to bring me dresses. I had a closet larger than the bedroom in my old apartment as well as dressers filled with clothes. There were clothes for every occasion. I also had a drawer devoted to jewelry. It was velvet lined and contained multiple small compartments. Each day I had another piece or two as Ian or Rett would deliver what I now knew was not costume jewelry. There were also shoes of every color for every use. On the second day in this suite, I realized the exercise room was accessible from my suite as well as Rett’s. I’d awakened to the sounds of his workout.
I’d lain under the blankets imagining that it wasn’t a treadmill or range-of-motion machine that was pushing him to exhaustion. My thoughts were less fitness and more erotic. We’d fallen into a strange sort of relationship. I felt the spark or twinge of delight when we touched, and his kisses could reroute my circulation and leave me wanting more. And all the while, even with our suites connected,morehadn’t come.
That first day I’d awakened in his home was the last time we’d been intimate, the last time I’d orgasmed without my own help. It wasn’t that we were platonic; it was that we had stilled in that forward motion.
There was another win. The doors separating our suites as well as the one to the hallway weren’t locked. I knew that by the sound they made whenever Rett or Ian entered or left. Nevertheless, I didn’t try to open them or go beyond unaccompanied. It wasn’t for lack of curiosity; it was something altogether different.
As for the hallway, I’d installed my own barrier. I’d breached it once, and I didn’t want to do that again. When it came to Rett’s suite, I didn’t want to be there unless he wanted me there. Entering on my own felt a little like trespassing into his private space.
There were many reasons he might not want me there. He was still busy dealing with fallout from my attempted escape. The morning after our heart-to-heart talk, I was escorted to his office. Escort was a nice way to say I was led with my eyes covered.
It would be a lie to say the blindfold didn’t cause me to recall my abduction. It was also worth mentioning that Rett was the only one to place or remove it.
He had mentioned my affinity for words.
Rett was the master.
There was a quality to his tone when he expected to get his way. It wasn’t brash or even demanding. It certainly wasn’t asking. It simply was his style. In a way I appreciated that even after my ordeal, he believed I could handle the loss of sight.
I could, as long as he was there.
In Rett’s office—a hidden room—I recounted all I could remember.
Because I’d arrived blindfolded, I was a bit startled when while seated at a long table, the wall opened. It was like something from the movies. A man named Leon entered. Once he was also seated, they asked me to tell them what had happened. I started with the accidental discovery that Ian was gone. As I spoke, Rett’s men didn’t look at me as if I had been the cause of Rett’s wrath even though we all knew I had been. They were polite while questioning me about specifics as they tried to learn more. I told them that I’d heard ahe, him, or bossmentioned but not a name.
Though Rett rarely mentioned Kyle, I knew it was still Rett’s mission to bring him down. After what had happened to me, his quest was even more determined.
Rett and I had resumed our dinners around his home.
If we ate in my suite, Ian brought the food. When we ate out and about—the dining room, courtyard, or conservatory—Miss Guidry made an appearance. Each encounter was an adventure. Rett finally explained her references to my biological mother. Miss Guidry was a spiritualist. She spoke to spirits or believed she did. I couldn’t honestly tell which was true.
It was always a surprise who she would bring up. It wasn’t only my birth mother; she often spoke of Rett’s mother as well. Interestingly, she never mentioned Rett’s father, although she frequently discussed Marilyn Ramses. Mrs. Ramses, or Miss Marilyn, as Miss Guidry referred to her, had been Miss Guidry’s closest friend. It had been what I’d assumed in the story that I’d stopped writing.
Tonight, as we dined, Rett received a call, one he begrudgingly took, excusing himself and stepping away from the room. Upon his departure, Miss Guidry took the opportunity to speak privately with me.
She was giddy with excitement, her cheeks pink and a bounce in her step. “Miss North.”
“Emma, please.” It was hardly the first time I’d asked to be called by my first name.
The older woman sat on the edge of the seat Rett had vacated a few moments earlier. “Miss Emma, I couldn’t wait to share something with you.” Her expression dimmed. “Mr. Ramses doesn’t appreciate when I talk too much about Miss Marilyn.” Her smile returned. “But Lordy, she’s been after me, waking me up...” Miss Guidry’s head shook as she waved her hand. “She wants you to know that she approves.”
My gaze went between the woman who had taken Rett’s seat and the doorway, expecting his return. “She approves?”
“Of you and Mr. Ramses. She had reservations.”
My mind went through a strange series of revelations.
Rett’s deceased mother had reservations about me.
It was her son who found me.
When I didn’t respond, Miss Guidry went on. “Now, it wasn’t you she had reservations about. It’s your daddy. Miss Marilyn never liked Mr. Boudreau. No, not one bit.” Miss Guidry leaned forward and lowered her volume. “You see, she didn’t much trust him. It wasn’t that she had personal experience, but the ladies of society talk.”
“How does she feel about my mother?” I almost giggled at my own question. I was asking this old woman about parents I never knew and only recently learned existed while speaking of the deceased in the present tense.