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Chapter 17
The next morning,I lie in bed alone. Sunlight pours through the curtains in my room, and I haven’t called on Daphne to make me a fancy breakfast because I’m not hungry. And I know the maid is probably chomping at the bit to do her daily cleaning in here.
But none of it matters.
Cage has given me many lessons about “being his girlfriend,” but it seems I haven’t learned the most important one of all—don’t fall for a man who never made you promises in the first place.
The only upside I can see is that, after tonight’s dinner, I’ll be free. Maybe once I’m back home and I’m not in Cage’s presence any more, I’ll be out from under this strange, sensual spell he has me under.
Everything will be okay tomorrow, I think. But I’m not so certain of that.
I’m afraid I’m in way too deep now…
When my phone rings, I startle to a sitting position in bed, clutching the duvet to my chest. Is it Cage? Then just as quickly I wonder if it’s Liam, upping his game, going from texts to phone calls to harass me about the money.
I calm down just as soon as I realize that the ringtone is my mother’s.
Just before I answer, I wonder if my family has seen the society column photo of Cage and me from the other night at the art gallery. Actually, I really don’t care. That’s the least of my concerns.
I pick up the call.
“Good morning, sweetheart!” My mom sure sounds like she’s had her eggs sunny-side up today. “Or maybe I should say good afternoon since you’re still on your summer adventure back east with your friends. I always forget about the time change.”
Yeah. Summer adventure. If only she knew how adventurous I’ve gotten.
I smile as much as I’m able to, because it really is good to hear her familiar, loving voice. “Morning, Mom.”
“I just thought I’d check in before you fly home tomorrow evening.”
“I’ll still be there.”
“Oh, good. Dad and I will have your room all ready for you. I know you’ll be off to college again before we know it though. You never seem to stay in one place for long these days.”
She hasn’t said anything about seeing me on the arm of a billionaire in a society column picture, and I’m not about to bring up the subject.
As I move my legs to the side of the bed, I take in a breath at how sore I am between my legs. It reminds me that tonight is my last one with Cage, and that hurts even more.
God, I can’t think about this.
So I listen to Mom chatter about New York and how wonderful it must be. She’s never been here, so she wants to know about the restaurants and—e-hem—culture that I’m experiencing during this last hurrah before graduation. Then she mentions something that makes my hackles rise.
“This morning we got a lot of calls from an unknown number,” she says. “At first your dad and I thought you’d gotten a new phone and didn’t tell us, but I see that’s not the case. It’s probably only salesmen who don’t leave messages.”
I swallow, thinking of Liam. Is he doubling down on his harassment of me, aiming for my parents now? Is he about to tell them everything?
“There’re ways to block those calls, Mom,” I say, and somehow I sound calm.
“Okay, I’ll look it up on YouTube. There’s an answer there for everything.”
“Yeah, I’d do it soon, too.” I laugh unconvincingly, at least to my own ears. “Those calls are such a pain.”
As she goes on to ask about what she should make me for dinner after I arrive, my blood chills me and my brain is in a fog. I pray for this call to end soon, and when it does, I access Liam’s number right away then send him a text with my shaking fingers.
I promise, you’ll have your money tomorrow.
I don’t ask if he’s been calling my parents just to put more pressure on me. If he isn’t the one doing it, I don’t want to give him ideas.
His answer comes at me with blinding speed.