Escorting the Billionaire - Part 3

What looked like lasers shot out of Celia’s eyes at Audrey. “I thought I told you to keep that between us, dear. I’d love to say I’m surprised, but…” She turned back to me. “I want you to know I was trying to protect you. From this girl and her lies. What else do you have to say, James?”

I gripped my glass so hard I was surprised it didn’t shatter in my hand. “Audrey also told me about her… suspicions. About the death of Danielle, my high school girlfriend.”

My mother watched my face. As always, hers gave nothing away. “Audrey told me the same thing. She said she believed I was involved somehow.”

“That’s what she’s claiming.” I saw Audrey look at me briefly, confused. My head was pounding. “You know I have some serious issues with you, Mother. But I don’t believe you’re capable of something that horrific. And I don’t believe it. So I want you to know, Audrey and I are heading home tonight. And this will be the last time we see each other. I will take care of her and her family. I’ll make sure that nothing about our relationship or her accusations about Danielle’s death ever come out.”

I took a deep breath. “Because although I believed she had feelings for me, I know now the truth: that she’s a grifting, blackmailing whore. Just like her mother.”

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, dear,” my mother said, looking triumphant. “I’ve tried to tell you that a thousand times.”

* * *

Audrey didn’t say a word to me on the way back to the room. I didn’t say anything, either. We could be followed or overheard, and I wasn’t going to risk it.

Her face was still pale when we went back inside, her mouth set in a grim line. “I’m calling the valet to come and get us,” I said. “Pack your things. Pack mine, too, if you can stand to.”

She looked up at me, and I could see the wounded look on her face.

“Audrey,” I started. “Let’s wait to talk it through—let’s get out of here while that performance is still fresh in my mother’s mind. But you know.”

“Know what?” she asked, slamming though the house and grabbing our stuff.

“That I love you. And that I’m sorry about the ugly things I just said.” I went and wrapped my arms around her, pressing the full length of my body against hers. She wriggled against me, as if she were trying to get away. I leaned down and looked at her. “My mother isn’t easily fooled, Audrey. I had to make that seem real. She has to believe that we’re through and that you aren’t a threat to her. So even though I hurt you, I did it to keep you safe. That’s the only thing that matters to me.”

She looked up at me. “Tell me you didn’t mean it. Not a word.”

“I didn’t mean a word of it.” I smoothed the hair back from her forehead and kissed her gently. “You know I didn’t.”

“It still hurt. It made me feel sick to hear it,” she said.

“It made me feel sick to say it.”

I released her, and she took a step back from me.

“I had to do that, Audrey. I had to take control of the situation. My mother’s been running things for too long. We’re going to have both my mother and yours on a short leash after this. And we’re the walkers, babe. They’re the dogs.”

“I hope they don’t turn around and bite us,” Audrey said. “Those are some big fangs.”

* * *

I didn’t hold her hand until the plane had taken off. I didn’t want anyone to see us. Audrey was quiet, pretending to listen carefully while the flight attendant went through the safety presentation, inspecting her nails afterward and generally ignoring me.

“Can you please forgive me?” I asked. “I didn’t think we’d get out of there, intact, any other way.”

“I can forgive you. I already did,” she said under her breath. “But if you ever compare me to my mother again, you can say goodbye to this.” She motioned to her lower body.

“No,” I said. “I am not ever saying goodbye to that.”

She smiled at me a little, and I could tell it was reluctant. “You were just so mean,” she said.

“I know. It was ugly.”

“Do you think she believed it?” Audrey asked.

“I think so. I think my mother believes that the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree. She thinks that underneath it all, I’m just like her. Ruthless. Only interested in myself. And she’s right,” I said, throwing my arm around her. “Except that she hadn’t counted on you. Now I’m ruthless, and I’m only interested in you. And I don’t think my mother believes I’m capable of that.”