but desperate to get out of the confined space with Gabe. He had tried several times to pull me into conversation but each time I upped the volume on the radio until the Truckers were at an ear-splitting level, making it ridiculous to try to talk. He finally got the point and zipped his mouth shut. I practically shoved him out the door without stopping when I got to his house in Brookside. He motioned for me to roll the window down so he could talk to me, but I just gritted my teeth and pulled away with squealing tires.
My parents lived in another gated community in Brookside so as I tooled through town I decided to stop at the Starbucks where I had taken Rule last time I was here and pull myself together. Just to torture myself even further I pulled out my phone and died a little more when it showed no new messages or texts. I didn’t know what to do and I felt like everything I had ever wanted was slipping right through my fingers.
“Shaw? Shaw Landon, is that you?” I looked up from my coffee and stifled a groan as Amy Rodgers barreled down on me. I should have remembered her and this Starbucks went hand in hand.
“It sure is, Amy. How are you?”
She air-kissed my face and gave me a toothy smile. She had never even pretended to be this nice to me in high school, so I was instantly on high alert.
“Oh, I’m good. I just finished beauty school and I’m working in a super trendy, super high-end salon in Denver. You’re living there now, too, right?”
I nodded and I saw her eyes trail over my new and improved hair. “Well, I’m excited I ran into you. I was thinking about looking you up.”
I lifted a brow. “Why?”
She flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Well, I was home a few weekends ago doing laundry and I ran into one of the Archer twins, the one with all the tattoos. Anyway, I remembered that you were close with them and I was wondering if I could get his number from you. I can’t remember which one is which, but lordy was he gorgeous. I heard they moved to Denver, too, and I was hoping I might be able to start something up with him.”
I felt everything inside me turn to ice. I almost threw my coffee in her pretty, perfect face but just barely, by the skin of my teeth, managed to restrain myself.
“Remy died, Amy. It’s just Rule, has only been Rule for almost three years now, and I’m sure he would just looooove to hear from some idiot girl who didn’t even know who he was, just one of the Archer twins. You make me want to vomit, and you’re lucky we’re in a public place or there’s a really good chance I would be punching you repeatedly in the face right now.”
She gaped at me in astonishment as I pushed past her and tossed my coffee in the trash, all taste for it gone. “I’m not giving you his number because he’s mine and if you get anywhere near him I swear to God the things I’ll do to you will be chronicled on Investigation Discovery for years to come.”
I was shaking by the time I got back in the car and it only took a second for the tears to come. I missed Remy, I missed Rule, and I missed Margot and Dale. Rule was right; I didn’t know what it felt like to defy my mother because I never had and now she was just one more person trying to get between me and the person I wanted to be with. I had no trouble laying claim to him with a bimbo like Amy, but my mother, well that was a far bigger fish to fry. I had always known he was worth it—that’s what I was waiting so desperately for his parents to see, but when the time had come to prove it I had done what everyone else did to him and let my mother pressure me into doing something that moved me away from him. I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel and picked my phone back up. I stared at it for a solid five minutes with the car running, trying to think of what to say to him and all I came up with was:
I really am sorry; I never meant to hurt you. I should’ve stayed. I really miss you.
I put it away before I made myself crazy seeing if he was going to text anything back and made my way to my parents’ house. The house was more like some kind of elegant mountain chalet than an actual home. Everything past the gates was elegant and expensive, and as I parked and made my way to the front door I remembered how small I felt next to the grandeur. When Remy had come into my life and taken me under his wing, I had taken the opportunity to spend every second I could at the Archers’. For all their faults, they made a home where it was clear people were loved and cared for. Both my mother’s and my father’s homes had none of that; they were filled with servants and showpieces. As I was led into the living room I was struck again by how very much I didn’t want to be here and how if I couldn’t fix things with Rule after this weekend there was a good chance I was going to have to be committed because I just might lose my mind.
My mother in all her refined glory came at me with a critical eye. There was no hug, no “how was your drive?” no “sorry I missed your birthday, sweetie,” just a quick sweep of her ice-cold gaze from the top of my head to the toes of my laced-up leather boots. Her already tight mouth pulled into a frown. “What have you done to your hair, Shaw? It looks dreadful and I hope you brought more appropriate clothes for the country club. We’re going to dinner, not a potluck.”
I was wearing leggings and a long oxford with a wide leather belt that matched my boots. It was way too fancy for a simple car ride home but I had been trying to avoid this exact scene. Once again I had failed to meet her exacting standards. My hands curled tighter around the bag I had refused to give to the maid who’d opened the door. My heart was in my throat—well, actually it was back in Denver currently ignoring me, but that was neither here nor there.
“I assume you and Gabe had time to talk on the way up here?”
“Not really. I’ve told you I don’t have anything left to say to him.”
If it were possible, her mouth pulled into an even tighter frown—she looked like she was sucking on a lemon. My mother was a beautiful woman—I got my fair hair and light coloring from her—but as I looked at her objectively, for possibly the first time in my life, I realized that all that beauty was harsh and encased in so much ice and bitterness that it was hard to see.
“I asked you to stop being ridiculous, young lady. You will be polite and charming this weekend. I will not tolerate any hostility or rudeness directed at Gabe or any of the Davenports, do you understand me?”
From somewhere deep inside me the Shaw that I was when I was with Rule, the Shaw that should have refused to come on this farce of a weekend, raised her head. I flicked the ends of my two-toned hair over my shoulder and brushed past my mother to head to the stairs where my room was located. “You ordered me to be here, Mother, so now you have to deal with that whether you like the outcome or not.” She called something after me in a shrill voice but I tuned her out, calling over my shoulder, “Let me know when you’re ready to leave for dinner.”
I shut the door to the room that had never really felt like mine and let my bag drop on the floor. My mother’s interior designer had done the room in a palette of grays and soft pinks. It was all very lovely, feminine and girly to the max with a million frilly pillows on the bed and even a lacy canopy draped over the white four-poster bed. It was the room a person who wanted to sleep in luxury and be surrounded by million-thread-count sheets would enjoy; for me it had always felt lifeless and dull. There were no personal pictures, no splashes of color, no TV or radio—simply nothing to describe a thing about the person who was supposed to live there. I settled cross-legged on the center of the big bed and sent Ayden a text. She had been acting a little weird since the night she had let Jet take her home from the bar, but she didn’t want to talk about it, and since I was having my own boy drama I didn’t want to fight to drag it out of her.
Wasn’t even in the door two steps before she mentioned my hair
