Page 7 of Tower

So why, as he pulled his car away from the brownstone, was he more worried about her now than when he found her on the street?

Chapter 3

“Azalea, you look exhausted,” her mother admonished at the breakfast table.

“I didn’t sleep well,” Azalea said, not lying in the least. Her heart had been jackhammering after leaving Peter outside of her house and hightailing inside. Her mother had walked in the back door only moments later. If Peter had kept insisting on walking her up to the door, they would have been found.

She could feel her mother staring at her, judging and evaluating her, from her seat across the table. Her long fingers fondled the handle of her coffee cup.

“You were up late?” she asked. To anyone listening it might sound merely curious. Azalea was, after all, an adult, and didn’t have a bedtime, but she knew the tones well. She was fishing. She suspected, and Azalea knew what would happen if her mother found out she’d managed to slip out of the house after she’d left for her meeting.

“I was reading,” Azalea lied and took a bite of her toast.

Her mother sighed but left it alone. “You love those books more than me, I think.”

Azalea smiled. “Of course not.” As much as some of her moods held Azalea at arm’s length, she knew her mother needed to feel her love. Insecurity would run deep in anyone who had lost a child and had a man simply walk out of her life like it was the easiest thing to do. Azalea never met or knew much about her father, other than that he’d found out her mother was pregnant for a second time and disappeared.

“Good.” She reached across the table and patted Azalea’s hand. “I have to leave town for the yearly meeting earlier than usual. I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

Her mother never fully explained what she did at these meetings, or exactly how she earned her money. But given the fact that Azalea never wanted for anything material, she didn’t push the issue.

“How long will you be gone?” Azalea asked, already concocting day trips to the museums. It wouldn’t be difficult with her mother gone during the day; she’d have to have Santos accompany her. But there were also the evenings. When she was supposed to be tucked into the house—for her own safety—she wanted to explore the city. That would be harder, but not impossible. And having her mother gone would make it even easier.

“Three weeks, maybe a little more,” her mother said. Her fingers started drumming on the tabletop. “I’ll be home in time for your birthday.”

Azalea watched her expression carefully. Every time she mentioned her birthday, her lips tightened. It was as though she was trying to keep back excitement, or maybe it was fear. She always warned Azalea of the dangers in the city, and promised that when the time came for her to finally move out of the house and start her own life, she would be with her every step of the way. Nearing her twenty-third birthday, it seemed that should be right around the corner.

“I was thinking.” Azalea placed her fork down and folded her hands in her lap. “When you return from your meeting, we could start looking for an apartment for me. I’ve already graduated. I have my degree. Maybe it’s time I look for a job, start making my own money. Like we talked about?”

“You have everything you need or could want right here. Why would you want to go work for someone else? Slave away to make them richer while you get by on a meager paycheck?”

“Maybe you could teach me about what you do.”

Santos, always watching, stifled a cough behind her. Obviously, he found the idea funny. Well he could go sit and spin, for all Azalea cared. She wasn’t stupid. Maybe a little over-sheltered, but she had a good head on her shoulders. And her damn near-perfect GPA backed her up.

Bellatrix’s eyes fluttered from Santos to Azalea before a well-practiced smile perched on her lips. “Azalea, I’m not sure your degree in graphic design can—uh—well, be put to use in my business. But, I suppose I can understand you wanting to spread your wings a bit. You’ll be twenty-three next month, and I remember wanting the same when I was your age. When I get home, we’ll discuss it further. But until then, no more worrying about the future. All right?”

“Of course,” Azalea answered in the soft tone she’d become used to using with her mother. Bellatrix demanded respect from her employees and wanted undying love from her daughter.

“Good. What do you have planned for today? I will be busy most of the day, but we could meet for dinner?”

“Oh, can we go out? I heard there’s a new restaurant opening up on the waterfront.” Azalea clamped down on her excitement at the prospect of getting out into the nightlife, hoping her mother wouldn’t see how much she truly wanted to go.

“And where did you hear this?” Bellatrix asked and sipped her coffee.

“When I was at the library yesterday afternoon. The librarian was talking about it with the woman checking out books. She said it was the best meal she’d had in years.” Azalea paraphrased the librarian’s actual review of the meal as orgasmic.

“Perhaps we’ll go when I get back from my trip.” Bellatrix stood from the table and ran her long fingers over her waist then down her pantlegs, smoothing out all unwanted wrinkles. “Enjoy your day, dear.” She pressed a warm kiss to Azalea’s temple and headed out of the dining room.

Azalea sank back into her chair and let out a long whoosh of breath. No matter how much her mother doted on her, how much she professed to love her, Azalea often had a lingering darkness hovering over her whenever her mother was near.

“While your mother is away, you will not cause me trouble,” Santos said from his place at the door. Still standing guard, but most likely more to keep her in than to keep others out.

“I never do.” She rolled her eyes and picked up her cup of coffee.

He laughed. “I have important business, and your little field trips are getting annoying.”

Azalea dropped her napkin on her plate and walked to the door, pausing before him. “You heard her. When she gets back, we’ll be looking for an apartment for me. Then you won’t have to be bothered with me at all.”

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