Escorting the Billionaire - Part 2

“She sounds lovely,” Audrey said. “What happened?”

“She was going to Brown in the fall, and I wanted to change my plans and follow her there. My parents didn’t approve. I’d been accepted to Harvard. That’s where my father went, and that’s where my father wanted me to go. They were against the relationship, anyway. Her family was lower middle class, nobodies from Tewksbury. Actually, they were really nice people—I’m still in touch with them. Which means they still send me a Christmas card.

“But just because I thought she was wonderful and her family was great didn’t mean that she was acceptable to my parents. The fact that she’d gotten a full-boat scholarship to Brown for biology didn’t earn her any points, either. She didn’t have the pedigree. They wanted me to attend Harvard and end the relationship. I fought with them about it the whole summer.

“One night Danielle came over, and my parents were horrible to her. Really vicious. They told her that she was breaking our family apart by trying to get me to follow her to Brown. Which she wasn’t—that’d been my idea. But knowing my parents the way I do, I just sat there. There was no use fighting them. Danielle became hysterical and left.”

He paused for a beat. “She got into a car accident that night, Audrey. On her way home. And she died.”

Audrey sat there, holding my hand and looking white with shock. “I’m so sorry.” She looked as if she was going to cry for me. “But you can’t blame yourself for that. She got into an accident. You didn’t cause it.”

“I did nothing to defend her that night. My parents told her she was unacceptable to our family. It was like they’d gutted her. And then she left, sobbing. I never heard someone cry like that before.” The memory of it still haunted me.

“There was a thunderstorm, and the police said the visibility was bad. She hydroplaned and went off the road, into a guardrail. That never would have happened if she were calm—I know that. And she had her whole life in front of her. I took that away.”

“James.” She took my face in her hands. “You can’t carry that guilt around with you forever. It was an accident. Yes, she was upset. But it wasn’t your fault. Your parents must feel horrible about it, though.”

I looked out the window again, trying to calm the sharp edges I felt inside of myself. It was like this every time I thought of Danielle. There was so much regret it physically hurt.

“My mother said it was fate.” My voice sounded dead to my own ears.

“She did not,” Audrey said. “Please tell me that’s not true.”

I shrugged. “She was appropriately mournful to begin with. She went to the service, said all the right things. She donated an obscene amount of money to the scholarship fund Danielle’s parents set up in her memory. My mother is a master at putting on a show.

“Still, I knew she was relieved. And at Christmas that year I drank myself into a stupor and accused her of as much.”

“And?” Audrey asked.

“And she told me that I was lucky. That Preston luck and fate had given me an out.” The memory’s sharp edges of pain dulled to a flat hate.

“And I thought my mother was bad. Celia’s f**king unbelievable,” Audrey said.

I laced my fingers through hers. “She sure is,” I said.

* * *

“Did you love her?” Audrey asked me a little while later. We were still sitting on the couch. The only thing we’d done was send the paperwork in and then settle back down, holding hands.

“It was a long time ago, but I know that I did. It was first love. Nothing else is quite like that,” I said. “Do you know what I mean?”

She nodded slowly, her gaze directed out of the window. “I do, James. I do.”

* * *

“That’s enough doom and gloom for one day.” Audrey sat up straight. My head was in her lap, and she’d been playing with my hair. I couldn’t remember the last time that sitting with someone, talking to them, and having them play with my hair qualified as an event for me, but this did. And this particular event had stretched past lunch.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“I’m always hungry.”

I sat up and smiled at her. “Me, too. Why don’t we just go down the street? Sit outside, have a late lunch, and drink some wine?”

“That sounds perfect.” She kissed me on the nose and went to get up but I stopped her, grabbing her hands.

“Thank you for listening to me today,” I said. “I’ve never spoken about what happened before. I never even told Cole. It’s something that I buried a long time ago. You’re the first person I ever felt comfortable with enough to talk to about it.” I tucked her hair behind her ear.