Always Mine (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 1) (14 page)

N
ine days later,
Emily stood in the middle of the climate-controlled storage room in Sophie’s ten-bedroom home where over half of the Harris Tactile Museum was now stored in an endless number of crates. The movers had offered to store the crates in a secure location until the event, but Emily couldn’t imagine sending her mother’s work away, especially since she’d brought so much of it. She’d planned on bringing only a few pieces to Boston for the exhibit, but Sophie had talked her into showcasing the best of what she had. The idea of trusting anyone with the irreplaceable items was terrifying.

Sophie was a soft-spoken woman, probably one of the sweetest people Emily had ever met, but she knew what she wanted and was gifted at working around the word no.
Much like her son.
On the flight over, Emily had planned how she would explain to Sophie that she’d be more comfortable staying with Celeste. Emily remembered starting that conversation, but it hadn’t gone anywhere. Sophie had met her in a limo at the private plane she’d hired. She’d taken her home for dinner with her husband, Dale, settled her into a bedroom she’d made up for her, and voila, Emily was staying at the Barrington family home.

When she’d called Celeste to tell her of the change in her plans, her friend had been concerned. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Emily had sat on the edge of the bed, shaking her head. “No, I’m positive it’s a bad one, but what was I supposed to do? Wait in Paris until Asher came back?”

“Has he called you?”

“No.”

“Em, I know I encouraged you to go on this adventure, but it might be time for it to end. You said you had a good time in Paris. Sometimes that’s all it is, a good time that only gets ugly if you try to hang on to it after it’s done.”

“You don’t think he was coming back for me?” That idea had occurred to Emily a hundred times already, but she’d pushed it away. He had been too good to her during their time together for her to believe he didn’t care about her at all.

“Men are a different than women, Em. Many of them are not really good at expressing their feelings so you have to interpret their actions instead.”

“You think it’s over?”

“If he hasn’t called you, I’m afraid it probably is. Which is another reason why you shouldn’t stay at his mother’s house. If it’s over, Em, you need to go home or come stay with me.”

Emily had sighed. “I tried to tell Sophie I couldn’t stay here. She’s impossible to say no to. And she’s helping me find sponsors for my museum. How can I walk away from that?”

“I have a bad feeling about this, Em. Why is she being so nice to you?”

“Because she likes me?”

“I hope that’s what it is. You’re a good person, so you look for good in everyone. We don’t know these people. Be careful.”

“If I was careful I wouldn’t have flown off to another country with a man I hardly know.” As she’d said the words, her voice had cracked with emotion.

“I shouldn’t have told you to go. I don’t know what the right answers are in these situations. I don’t think it’s healthy to build your entire life around one goal. I thought if you went to Paris you’d remember what it was like to have fun.”

I did.
“Celeste, I don’t regret going. Yes, it sucks that he hasn’t called. Yes, it hurts. But you know what hurt more? Losing my grandfather and then my mother. That’s real loss. They loved me. You were right to encourage me to go away with Asher. I needed to step away from Welchton and laugh for a while. Seeing how others have made a difference makes me even more determined to do the same. Sophie said she wants to help me because I’m doing something important. I believe her.”

“Call me every day, and let’s get together for dinner this week. Text me, and I’ll clear my schedule that night.”

Coming back to the present, Emily looked around the storage room again. It was packed to near capacity except for a corner where a sofa and a couple of chairs had been put to one side. Even though the men who had delivered the crates had an impeccable reputation, Emily had opened each box and checked the contents upon arrival. Sophie had handled the move professionally and had had her lawyer draw up paperwork that listed each item on loan to her exhibit.

Emily visited the storage room each day and checked on a few of the items.
Like they’re family, because they’re all I have left of mine.

Most of her mother’s work was there, along with many of the figurines Emily had made for her mother. Emily took out the beach scene she’d shown Asher, sat down on the sofa with the painting on her lap, and ran her hand lovingly over it.
I miss you, Mom. I miss you so much.

A light knock on the door announced Sophie’s arrival. She took a seat in a chair across from Emily. “I knew I’d find you here. Kenzi called and said she’s coming to dinner tonight. Grant is too. Would you like to call Celeste? She’s welcome to join us again if she’s free.”

Emily replaced the painting in its crate. “I may go out instead. You and your family would probably enjoy a dinner with only each other for once.”

Sophie put her hand on one of Emily’s. “You have no idea how wonderful it is to have you here. Kenzi really enjoyed talking to you the other night. She said she’d love to see you again. I told Grant about our goals for your museum, and he offered to help you with the financial planning if you’re interested. Every mother thinks her children are amazing, but Grant is truly gifted when it comes to knowing where and how to invest money. I wish he didn’t work so much, though. I’ll never get grandchildren at this rate.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“Your friend, Celeste, is single, isn’t she? I liked her. Definitely ask her to come to dinner tonight. She might hit it off with Grant. It’s a shame there was no chemistry between her and Lance. He needs to find a nice girl.”

Emily smiled. “Celeste says she’s too busy with her company to think of getting married.”

“That’s what everyone says before they fall in love,” Sophie said with confidence. Her expression turned suddenly sympathetic. “Has Asher called you?”

Emily shook her head. With anyone else the conversation would have been embarrassing, but Sophie was asking because she cared. It was easy to forget she was Asher’s mother. Emily straightened her shoulders. “No.”

Sophie wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know what he thinks is more important than calling either of us back, but when he does, he’ll get an earful from me. Ian will, too. He hasn’t been answering my calls either.”

It was hard to imagine Asher getting a lecture from anyone. “Please don’t say anything to Asher about me. It’ll be awkward enough when he finds out I’m here.”

Sophie studied Emily’s face for a moment then said, “Awkward for him, but hopefully not for you. He needs a woman who will put him in his place from time to time. Don’t go easy on him when he finally does call you.”

Sophie was serious, and that realization made Emily smile. “Aren’t you supposed to take his side?”

“He’s my son and I love him, but I’m not blind to his faults. I don’t care how old your children get, when you see them acting like spoiled brats you do your best to rein them in. Asher is successful, and he’s good-looking. Women have always flocked to him. Frankly, it’s given him a big head. He doesn’t value anything that comes to him that easily.”

Emily blushed a deep red. She’d followed in the footsteps of those foolish ladies.
I gave him what he wanted too easily. Is that why he hasn’t called? Is he done but can’t be bothered to tell me in person?
He’d told me to wait on the bed with my legs spread. Doesn’t that exemplify how little he really feels about me? He doesn’t call because he doesn’t care.

Loss was something Emily understood far too well. She took her sorrow over Asher and stuffed it deep down into her gut along with her sadness over her mother and grandfather.

Sophie saw Emily’s expression and looked instantly contrite. “I wasn’t referring to you, Emily. You’re different.”

Emily looked away. “Not as different as you’d think.”

Sophie smiled gently. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re beautiful, you have a good heart, and you are an amazingly talented artist. That you’re humble is a testament to your mother.”

Emily’s eyes were drawn back to the crate that held her mother’s beach painting. “I still miss her so much it hurts.”

“I understand,” Sophie said. “I lost my parents, my sister . . . my—” She stopped abruptly and stood. “Anyway, Asher is a fool if he doesn’t see how good you would be for him. Come on, let’s get dressed for dinner.”

Emily stood and followed her to the door. She wanted to ask what other loss Sophie had started to mention then decided against it. She paused before turning off the light.

Behind her, Sophie said, “Why do I feel that when the crates move over to the exhibit hall you’ll be sleeping there?”

Emily turned off the light and closed the door to the room. “I might.”

Sophie put a supportive hand on her shoulder. “I’ve done plenty of exhibits and even more auctions. We’ve never lost an item. You can trust me with your treasures, Emily.”

Two weeks of
hell passed before Asher was able to fly back to Paris. During the ride from the airport to his apartment, he checked his messages and reflected on how Ian had impressed him. He’d proven that diplomacy had its merits.

A few days earlier, Ian had walked into Asher’s office in Trundaie, loosened his tie, and plopped down onto the couch. “I did it. I convinced the prime minister that if he doesn’t protect your facility, five years from now he wouldn’t have the money for those mega yachts he collects. I also spoke to his advisors about sitting down with the leader of the rebels and resolving the land disputes that started the uprising. Your intel about the rebels was key. Negotiations go much easier when you know what each side wants. They wanted the farmland they’d owned before the prime minister claimed it for another summer home. He’s a greedy bastard and had positioned himself as a dictator, but I outlined the cost effectiveness of avoiding a civil war. Once I started talking in terms of who the rebels would come for next, his advisors started listening.”

Asher had poured two cups of coffee, handed one to Ian, then sat across from him. He’d barely slept for over a week. With the lives of his people—and his brother—on his shoulders, Asher hadn’t relaxed for a moment until he was certain he could maintain their safety. He’d secured the facility while his brother negotiated with the prime minister. He and Bennett had increased his network of informants as well as paid off several people who swore to stall any act of aggression.

Ian had resolved the situation in a way Asher could live with. Brice had been right: changing one component changed everything. If trouble did come, Bennett was now ready.

He’d thanked Ian, but he doubted his brother knew how much his support meant to him. Trundaie had been the first time he’d found himself in over his head. He’d always known that his siblings would pull together in time of crisis, but watching Ian risk his life to save B&H had reminded Asher of the strength of family.

With the worst two weeks of his life behind him, he could focus on Emily again. At first he hadn’t called her because there hadn’t been time, but later he’d held off because he didn’t want to cloud his judgment with the distraction of his desire for her. He had put everything into saving his company and the facility, and it had paid off.

Asher leaned forward and asked the driver to stop at a florist shop on the way to his apartment. Two weeks without hearing from him couldn’t have been easy for Emily. She hadn’t answered his phone call or text. He could understand how she might be upset with him, but she wouldn’t be for long. He had three days to make it up to her before he flew back to Boston as he’d promised his family he would. Andrew would be home that week and for once Asher wasn’t dreading gathering with his family for their annual “pretend Mom isn’t too sad to be left alone” week.

After that one week away from her, she could meet back up with him in Boston, or he could return to Paris. He’d let her choose. Now that he was allowing himself to think about her, he couldn’t wait to see her again. His mind was pleasantly full of images of the two of them making up for all the time they’d lost over the last two weeks.

He bought three-dozen red roses and spontaneously asked the driver to stop at a high-end lingerie shop. He fantasized not only about what Emily wore, but what he wanted her to wear, and bought enough of both that the sales clerks were smiling and waving at him when he left, which was not a common sight in Paris.

Arriving at the apartment, he carried the roses and one of the boxes. The driver carried the rest. Asher let himself in, placed the flowers on the table, tipped the driver, and frowned. In his last text, he’d told her when he’d be back. Was being out when he returned her way of making him pay for not calling sooner?

He looked around and noticed that her usual coffee cup was not rinsed and by the sink. He walked through to the bedroom and opened the closet. Her clothing was gone.

Emily had left Paris. Irritated and surprised, he walked from room to room and confirmed she had indeed taken everything with her. He called her and was once again put through to her voice mail.

He paced the length of his living room like a tiger confined in a small cage. He’d wanted Emily before, but arriving and not finding her provoked the hunter in him.
Where would you go, Emily?

He considered using his investigator to track her down, but that would have taken the fun out of the chase. No, he wanted to solve this one on his own. He knew exactly who to call first. “Celeste Smithfield?”

“Yes?” a woman answered warily.

“Asher Barrington. I need to speak to Emily. Is she with you?”

“No.”

Asher didn’t like the amusement he heard in the woman’s voice. “Do you know where she is?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

To his surprise, Celeste’s tone turned cutting. “You’ll have to figure out where she is on your own, because if it were up to me, you wouldn’t find her. You don’t deserve her. Don’t call me again.” With that, Celeste hung up on him.