Troublemaker Page 7

  That made it even more magical for me.

  The second message is even sweeter, and I bite my lip as I look at it.

  “Meet me for a good morning kiss?” He asks. “6:30 in the attic.”

  I want that kiss, so I text back a hasty YES and hurry to take another shower. I didn’t wash my hair last night, so that needs to get done, and I shave my legs for good measure. When I’m done, I style my hair and do my makeup. I don’t bother stepping on the scale or taking a picture. I’m going to see Frank soon enough and I’m sure he’ll want me to weigh-in from his office. The idea makes me feel sick, but I don’t want to think about that right now.

  All I want to think about is getting to Harrison and kissing him good morning and seeing how handsome he looks all dolled up.

  I finish getting ready in record time. I usually need an entire hour to get presentable, but rushing works, and I climb into the attic at exactly 6:30.

  And he’s there.

  Waiting for me.

  “Good morning,” he looks me up and down, and a huge smile spreads over his face.

  “Hi,” I say shyly.

  “You look perfect.” He reaches for me and pulls me close. My jeans are a little too tight and my shirt is a little too snug, but he doesn’t care. He just grabs my ass and kisses my lips like it’s the most wonderful way to wake up.

  He’s acting like I’m something special and I sort of love that. I love the fact that when Harrison looks at me like this, I don’t feel cheap or used or dirty or dumb. I just feel perfect and special and adored. That’s how it should be, right? That’s how I should feel when I’m with someone.

  I should feel special, and fuck, I totally do.

  “You look pretty good, too,” I say. He laughs and looks down. He’s wearing a dark blue button-down with khakis, socks, and shoes. His hair is still a little damp, but it’s styled, and I know that Harrison’s dad is just as hard on him as he is on me. Maybe more so. After all, Harrison is the one who is going to take over the company one day, right?

  “I look like a dick,” he says, and he shakes his head.

  “What would you rather be wearing?”

  “Literally anything else,” he sighs. “But you know Dad.”

  “Yeah,” I mutter. “I know him.”

  “You have a meeting this morning, right?”

  “Unfortunately,” I say.

  “What does he want to talk to you about?”

  Harrison doesn’t seem nosy or rude. He’s not trying to be controlling. If anything, he’s just being curious, and I don’t mind answering him because the truth is that I don’t know what Frank wants to say. I have a couple of ideas, but they all sound too crazy to mention out loud.

  “I’m not really sure.”

  “School stuff, probably,” Harrison sighs, shaking his head.

  “Hey,” I reach for his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

  “It’s not okay,” Harrison says. “I don’t get why he’s so hard on you.”

  “Maybe it’s just because I’m the only girl in the house,” I suggest, but we both know it’s total bullshit. Margaret is a girl in the house, and besides, Frank isn’t my dad. He doesn’t really have any reason at all to be hard on me.

  “Maybe,” Harrison says. “Want to meet after?”

  “Of course. Where do you want to go?”

  “The gardens,” he says easily, as though he decided long ago.

  “Isn’t it too cold for that?” I ask.

  Harrison only shakes his head and grins.

  “Come on, Adalee,” he laughs. “Be brave with me.”

  “Fine,” I laugh. I don’t even need to be convinced. I can’t wait to spend more time with Harrison. Anytime I get to spend touching or playing with him...well, that’s fine with me.

  He kisses me again and then we part ways. Unfortunately, I know that this meeting with Frank has to happen or...

  Well, it just has to happen.

  It’s inevitable, really, so I might as well suck it up and just go. I head back downstairs. I make my way out of the closet and bedroom and head toward Frank’s office. As I walk, I look at the pictures on the walls and the paintings of people from long ago. All of the people in these paintings and pictures seem to know exactly what they want from life.

  This just leaves me wondering why I don’t.

  Why don’t I know what I want?

  Why don’t I understand what I need?

  When I finally get to Frank’s office, I hesitate for far too long outside of his door. I lift my hand to knock, but just before I bring my fist to the wood, Margaret appears.

  “Miss Adalee,” she says. “He’s not here.”

  “What?” I turn to the housekeeper, surprised. She looks...relieved, almost. Of course, she does. If anyone knows what Frank is like and what he gets up to, it’s Margaret. If anyone understands exactly how he is, it’s her. She’s worked for him for years, and he’s always treated her poorly. Part of me wonders why she still stays with him, but I think it’s pretty clear.

  She looks after me and Harrison.

  She always has.

  Staying here is the way she ensures that we’re both safe, and I can never fault her for that because honestly, it’s pretty damn wonderful that she cares so very much about us, especially when it seems like no one else in the world does.

  “He’s not here today. He had to rush away. For business,” she adds, but we both know it was probably related to gambling or women or something entirely not business.

  “Okay,” I say. I look back at the door. “I had a meeting with him.”

  “He told me to tell you tomorrow morning,” she says.

  “Tomorrow morning,” I repeat the words, letting her know I understand, but really, my heart feels like it’s freaking soaring.

  An entire day without Frank?

  An entire day to play and spend with Harrison?

  An entire day to ourselves?

  I don’t say anything else. I hug Margaret without a word, and then I just head straight to the gardens. My feet carry me without any prompting. In fact, I’m practically running by the time I get there.

  The gardens at the O’Conner mansion are damn lovely. I’ve never been particularly interested in floral arrangements or shrubbery, but Harrison’s mom, Lily, was a huge fan of flowers. She went above and beyond in making sure that the grounds always looked perfect. Now, even though she’s gone, the grounds are still well-maintained.

  I have a feeling that the household staff haven’t forgotten how sweet she was because if it were up to Frank, he’d probably bulldoze the entire backyard and add a business building or something hideous.

  The entrance to the gardens is just as beautiful as the rest of the space. It’s this huge arch that’s covered with vines and bright pink flowers. There are rose bushes on either side, and I enter carefully, quietly, unwilling to disturb the carefully arranged plants that rest here.

  When I was a kid, I used to come hide out here. If Frank and Lily were yelling at each other, this was my haven. I couldn’t stand to see them being hard on each other. Even though they weren’t my family, they were the closest thing to parents that I had. This was the place I could go where no one would disturb me.

  No one would hurt me.

  No one would find me out here.

  Except for Harrison.

  The two of us would meet up here and talk sometimes. We’d chat about everything and nothing. That was before we grew apart.

  That was before Frank made it clear that I’d never be unconditionally accepted as part of the family. He’d give me a role to play and I’d have to play it. That was the only thing I was good for, at least in his eyes.

  And it hurt.

  So much more than it should have.

  “You’re here,” Harrison’s voice sounds from up ahead, and I look up to see him sitting on a bench. He jumps to his feet and hurries to me. “That was fast.”

  He kisses me, and I can’t bring myself to do anything except revel in the beauty of this moment. I can’t bring myself to do anything except relax in his arms and lose myself in his touch. Harrison O’Conner is touching me in the gardens, and my heart suddenly feels very full, and very happy.

  “He postponed the meeting,” I finally say, pulling back.

  “What? Why?”

  He’s surprised, of course. Frank isn’t exactly known for being flexible, and he never pushes things back.

  Never.

  I just shrug.

  “Who knows? It doesn’t matter. I’m here now.”

  “Good,” he says, and Harrison pulls me close to his chest. He kisses me on the mouth and I lean up, eager for more. I run my hands up and down his chest. Part of me still worries that I’m not supposed to be doing this.

  After all, it’s wrong.

  It’s forbidden.

  It’s naughty.

  After all, it’s not something I’m supposed to be doing, and it’s probably not something I’m supposed to be wanting, but I do.

  “Adalee,” he whispers, pulling back, and he shakes his head. “How long have you liked me?”

  It’s a question I wasn’t really expecting, and it’s one I’m not sure how to answer. How can I be honest about this?

  But I’ll do it.

  For him.

  “A long time.”

  “Me too.”

  “You never told me.”

  “I never thought you felt the same.”

  “I’m sorry I held back.”

  I don’t want to think about how much time we wasted with our not-knowing.

  How much time did we miss out on because neither one of us was willing to say what we really wanted?

  How we really felt?

  Probably too much time.

  Too long.

  “We’re together now,” I whisper. “That’s all that matters.”

  “Of course.”

  He kisses me again, and this time, I close my eyes. I close my eyes, and I try to forget everything else: the loss of my mother, the loss of my childhood, and the loss of my freedom. I’m here with him now, and nothing else really matters.

  If I close my eyes long enough, I kind of believe that everything else will just fade away and I’ll never have to remember.

  I’ll never have to feel any pain.

  Ever.

  Again.

  Chapter Ten

  Harrison

  SHE TASTES LIKE SUNSHINE and perfection, and all of the things I’ve always wanted in my life. I’m glad my dad blew off their meeting. Who cares if it was for some other stupid reason? Maybe he wanted to go to a business meeting or maybe he had some sort of thing he just couldn’t get out of.

  I have no idea.

  All I know is that my dad sucks, and being with Adalee makes me forget about that for a little while.

  I have no idea how long we’re going to be able to hide this.

  Not long, if I’m honest with myself. I don’t think the staff will nark on us. Not intentionally, anyway, but my father has eyes and ears everywhere. He’s got a hand in so many different things and if I’m not careful, he’ll pounce when I’m the weakest.

  I don’t want him to find out about Adalee because I don’t want him to know she’s important to me.

  When I was small, I had a dog that I loved more than anything else. I have no idea if Adalee remembers the dog or not. My dad knew that I loved it, and he’d use it as a weapon at every chance. If I wanted to go somewhere or do something, my dad would hold the dog over my head.

  Oh, I hope Mr. Whiskers doesn’t get in an accident while you’re gone. That would be unfortunate.

  Oh, I hope Mr. Whiskers doesn’t lose his food dish and starve to death while you’re gone.

  Strange. You forgot to make your bed and Mr. Whiskers cut his paw on something sharp. He has stitches now and is in pain. I hope you don’t forget to make your bed again.

  When my dog passed away, it was far too soon. He was only a few years old, and I never found out what happened. I just know one thing: my dad was behind it, and I hate that. I hate knowing that he was willing to hurt a poor, innocent dog just because he doesn’t like me.

  He won’t do the same to Adalee.

  I won’t let him.

  If it’s up to my dad, he’ll hurt her or blackmail her. He’ll do one of these things. He’ll do anything at all if it means having me under his control, and I’m not as fucking stupid as my dad thinks I am.

  So I kiss Adalee over and over, and I try to push away any other thoughts that are trying to sneak into my brain.

  I kiss her because she’s perfect.

  I kiss her because she deserves it.

  I kiss her because to me, she’s total perfection.

  When we pull away from each other, it’s too soon, but the day is young, and we have stuff to do. We need to make some appearances around the house so that everything seems normal. Ideally, we’ll make some separate appearances. I don’t want to be apart from her, but things need to seem normal between us, and it’s a known fact that Adalee and I?

  We don’t exactly hang out together.

  If we’re seen together too much, it’s going to raise suspicions, and that’s the last thing I need. What I need is for people to think I’m being normal and ordinary and boring.

  I need them to think I’m a dick.

  They can’t know that I have a heart or that it beats only for her.

  So it’s with regret that Adalee and I decide to part ways.

  “I’ll meet you after lunch,” she says. “I’m going to go meet with Margaret and see if she needs help with her sewing.”

  “Good idea. I’ll go mess around in the movie theater,” I say. “Maybe I’ll play some games or goof off where people can see me being lazy.”

  “You? Lazy?” She raises an eyebrow. “Is that something you have to pretend?”

  “Hey,” I grab her and pull her close, planting a kiss on the end of her nose. “No teasing. You know I’d rather be kissing you than playing games.”

  “Me too.”

  “I like you, Adalee.”

  “I like you, too.”

  “After lunch, then.”

  “It’s a date.”

  She turns and leaves, and I stare at her as she walks away. I let her go, much as I don’t want to, and I head inside the house. I walk around for awhile, and finally, I settle down in the theater. It’s an in-home theater that rivals most movie theaters as far as screen size goes. There aren’t a lot of chairs, though: just several couches throughout the room.

  There’s a lot of space. Plenty for me, honestly, and if I wanted to have friends over, there would be room to spare. I set the theater up with a movie and lay down on one of the couches. Then I start flipping through my phone. My grades have been posted – yahoo – and I’m not surprised to see that I got straight A’s except for study hall.

  Miss Amber wasn’t exactly thrilled with my attitude and she graded me a little harshly. I didn’t even know it was possible to get anything but an “A” in study hall, but there you go.

  Shoving my phone away, I somehow manage to finish the movie. It’s a typical action flick with lots of guns and violence and girls, but I’m more than happy when it ends and I can break out of the room. I head to our in-home gym and get in a good workout with lots of lifting and a little bit of cardio, take a shower, and then finally, head to lunch.

  I’m not surprised to find that Adalee and Margaret are working side-by-side. The two of them have always worked well together. I can’t say Margaret has taught Adalee everything she knows, but I’d venture a guess that it’s pretty damn close.

  “How’s it going?” I ask, sidling up to Adalee. I get a little too close, I know, and I back away before Margaret notices.

  “Good,” Adalee says, ignoring the heat that’s once against building between us. Oh, I wish Margaret wasn’t here. It’s so hard not to grab Adalee and jut push her against the wall and start kissing her.

  Yeah, I’d love to kiss the hell out of that pretty mouth.

  I don’t, though. Instead, I’m a good boy, and I hang out while the girls work on the stew they’re making.

  “The secret is in the stirring,” Margaret tells Adalee.

  “Is that true?” I ask.

  “Do you remember cooking with your mama?” Margaret asks me.

  “Yes, a little.”

  “She was the one who taught me that trick,” Margaret smiles. “She always thought most people struggle to make soup because they don’t stir the stock long enough.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  She points to a long spoon.

  “Go ahead. Try it.”

  I have nothing to lose, so I grab the spoon and start stirring the boiling pot. Margaret turns the heat down so the stew settles to a low simmer, and I keep stirring and stirring and stirring. She’s right. I can tell that this is changing the consistency of the stew and it’s changing the way it feels. It even looks better now that I’m stirring it more.

  “The more you stir, the better the flavor is,” Margaret says.

  “I didn’t know that,” Adalee says.

  “Some people might beg to differ,” Margaret tells her. “But this was how Miss Lily liked to make her stews, and it’s always worked well for me.”

  “It’s cool to me that my mom was able to teach you something,” I blurt out.

  “Why?” Margaret looks at me, questioning.

  “Because you know everything,” I tell her honestly.

  Margaret only laughs.

  “I hardly know everything.”

  “Seems to me like you do,” Adalee tells her.

  “There are plenty of things I don’t know, children,” Margaret says. “But I do know one thing,” she lowers her voice, and she says this in a way that makes me think she’s about to impart some horrible or terrible wisdom that’s going to hurt us just as much as it’s going to help us.

  “What?” I whisper.

  “You need to be careful,” she says.

  “About what?” I ask.

  Margaret doesn’t say anything for a long time, and then she finally speaks again.

  “There are people in this house who are loyal to your father,” she says carefully. “And there are people who are loyal to your mother. Those aren’t always the same people, Harrison, and you need to watch your back.”