Present
“JACKSON Lockewood lent it to me to pick you up with.”
My head is spinning so severely that, for a moment, I’m sure I’m going to faint. It’s a good thing Nick’s eyes are on the road because my face has gone white, and my hands... my whole body is trembling. I swallow and take a deep breath, increasingly sure that I must have heard him wrong.”
“I’m…” I start, panic making me confused and almost incoherent, “What did you say?”
“This car drives like a dream,” Nick says distractedly, more to himself than to me, and then he seems to remember my question and turns to look at me. “Yes, it’s Jackson Lockewood’s, lucky bastard.” He adds, before turning back to the road.
“But...” I try not to sputter, “He doesn’t live at the house. He lives in the city. He’s not supposed to be at Halcyon.” I realize I’m beginning to sound hysterical, and I pause. “He’s not there is he?” I ask, desperate and hopeful.
Nick frowns. “He is,” he replies, unaware of the anxiety his words are causing me “So is his aunt, charming woman, by the way. If I weren’t so in love with all things young and perky, I’d ask her to marry me.”
I don’t even have the presence of mind to be disgusted at Nick. That’s how anxious I am. I should have listened to May, I think desperately. I should never have come back.
Just when I think it can’t get worse, Nick says the words that turn my brain into a sea of pure, undiluted panic. “She invited us to stay at the house,” he informs me, with a ‘see, I told you she was charming’ smile in my direction. “So, no nasty Foster Inn.” He fakes a shudder. "Plus the cook is to die for. Just a few days and I already have a paunch.” He peers at me. “Are you all right?”
For a moment, I contemplate telling him to stop the car. I want to go back to the station and back to my apartment, because right now, I’d rather lose all my credibility as a professional photographer, I’d rather never get a job again, than face Jackson Lockewood.
If I go there now, I won’t be able to avoid seeing him. Even if I insist on staying at the hotel, which I really can’t, not when everyone else is probably excited about spending a couple of days in a historic house that’s been home to two presidents and three senators and has a spectacular cook, as long as I go on to Foster, I won’t be able to avoid him. And with just his proximity, he would remind me of everything we had, and everything I lost.
Then there’s also Aunt Constance. I remember the last time I saw her, and the familiar, almost constant pain is like blades tearing at my heart.
“Hello… earth to Liv Wilder.”
I realize that Nick is waiting for me to say something.
“I’d have preferred a hotel.” I say weakly.
He spares me a quick glance, brows raised questioningly. “I have no idea why,” He remarks, “Especially when Jackson Lockewood mentioned that he was looking forward to seeing you again. For someone that hot, I’d expect you to be tearing down the gates.” He smiles and gives me another quick look. “You didn’t mention that you knew him. Is he my competition? The reason you’re keeping me locked up in the friend zone?”
“My friend zone is a very comfortable place.” I say lightly, even though my stomach is in knots. I still want to be a coward and turn back, but I know I can’t do that. Grace Conlin would probably blacklist me, and even my friendship with Nick wouldn’t be able to save me then. No, Jackson has taken too much from me for me to surrender my career to him too. “You should be glad I let you in there at all," I tell Nick, “with your bad reputation.”
“Well deserved.” He laughs. “But still the women can’t resist."
“They want to tame you,” I tell him. “But I pity the one who succeeds more than the ones who fail. Imagine being stuck with you for a lifetime."
He looks hurt. “So what’s the history with Jackson Lockewood?”
“Nothing,” I shake my head. “I just knew him, them, the Lockewoods, when I was growing up.”
“Really?” He gives me a quizzical look. “I didn’t know you grew up around here.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Through no fault of mine.” He gives me another serious glance, and I find myself wondering again, if there’s something else in his flirting. "So was he always that commanding.” He asks of Jackson. “I literally felt myself fade into the background whenever he walked into the room. I think Elaine is half in love with him already, poor me. I was making some progress there before he arrived.’
I’m not really listening to him. My head is assailed with images of Jackson. Yes, he has always been commanding, and intense, and incredibly attractive, I think silently, he has always had the power to make everything, everyone else, seem unimportant, and not just because I was hopelessly in love with him.
“I doubt anybody can make you fade into the background.” I say instead.
“Then I’m sure you haven’t seen your childhood friend in a while.”
“No, I haven’t.” I reply softly. It is true. I have only seen Jackson once in the years after leaving Foster. It was my senior year in college, and I was working part time as an assistant to a popular photographer. For some reason, she’d decided I spent too much time on my own and set me up on a date with her cousin, a hotshot lawyer, who according to her, was hot, rich, and interesting.
I’d still been battling depression at the time, and still crippled by the painful memories that had made me almost drop out in my freshman year. Even though, with May and Chace’s help, I had managed to catch up with my studies, get a job doing something I loved, and have a life, some days I still woke up wanting nothing more than to lie in bed forever.
I decided to go on the date as a way to fight the feelings of depression. I forced myself to take pleasure in dressing up for a man, I forced myself to care that my hair was perfect, that my clothes were perfect too. I employed every trick I’d learned about enhancing my assets, and by the time I was dressed, it was impossible for me not to take pleasure in how good I looked.