Phenomenal X
Page 8
I sniff, fighting back the tears. “I’m missing my phone and my bag. The last place I had them was on the plane—before I changed seats.”
She nods in agreement. “Mr. Cold asked me to let you know that he has your belongings.”
My eyes widen. “He does?”
Relief washes through me, only to be flushed away when I realize I have no way of getting in touch with him again. “I have no way of reaching him.”
She tilts her head and I hear the questioning tone in her voice when she says, “He said you have his number?”
I knit my eyebrows in confusion. I have his number? What’s he talking about? The only thing he gave me was…
Wait a minute.
I reach in my back pocket and pull out the paper containing his autograph, or at least I thought it was his autograph. I unfold it slowly and take in the thick, manly scroll.
I swallow hard as I stare at the number listed below his signature. Even in a simple note, his commanding tone makes my insides jitter.
A war rages within me. The exhilarated half of me is excited that I’ll likely see Xavier again, but the rational half knows that means I’m in for trouble. Trouble I’m not sure that I can resist.
However, one thing is clear, if I want my phone and other personal belongings back, I have no choice but to call him.
Heaven help where it may lead.
I head out into the warm Detroit summer and spot my family the moment I’m outside. Aunt Dee and my cousin Quinn wait in the loading zone for me as I wheel two large suitcases packed with all my clothes and shoes. I kept my eyes peeled at baggage claim, hoping to see Xavier and reclaim my items so I could be done with him for good, but there was no sign of him anywhere. The fact that I’m going to have to call that sexy beast of a man looms over me.
Aunt Dee greets me with a warm smile as I approach. “Anna, sweetheart, how are you? You look beautiful, darling, absolutely stunning, except for that hideous stain all over you. Looks like someone doused you with their drink.”
“It’s great to see you, Aunt Dee.”
I giggle at her words, laced with a thick Spanish accent, as I take in the multicolored bandana tied around her head in a chic, yet fashionable way that blends into her hairstyle. Like I said, Aunt Dee is a little eccentric. She’s an artist—a painter and a sculptor—and her creativity typically carries over into her wardrobe. Much like the tie-dyed maxi-dress she has on. “I hope this stain comes out. I didn’t bring a lot of clothes.”
“I know just the trick to get it out once we get home.” She pulls back and inspects me from head to toe. “You look so much like your mother. Doesn’t she, Quinn?”
I glance over at my cousin who is wearing a pair of cut-off shorts and a black tank top. Quinn has always been whom I would consider the most beautiful person in our family. We’re exactly the same age, but it’s hard to compete with her gorgeous brown hair and legs that go on for days. She’s drop-dead gorgeous, and every man around always notices her. She’s not stuck on herself though, which makes me love her even more. She’s about the most down-to-earth person I know.
Quinn smiles at me before wrapping me up in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here, Anna. We are going to have so much fun this summer.”
“Aye, girls…but not too much fun,” Aunt Dee warns. “Your father would have my head on a stick. He is the last person on earth I want on my back.”
Quinn pulls back. “How did this morning go?”
Allowing my eyes to flit back and forth between my aunt and cousin, I frown. They know how bad it was for me back home. We talk all the time, and Quinn is like a sister to me. If it weren’t for their support, I wouldn’t have had the guts to walk away like I did. “It was bad. I’m sure he’s still blowing up my phone telling me that I’m making a huge mistake.”
Aunt Dee shakes her head. “That’s where your father and I differ in opinion, Anna. Marrying a man you don’t love to please your family is a much larger mistake. He should want happiness for you, not sorrow.”
I nod. “I can never thank you enough for giving me a place to escape to.”
She cups my face. “It’s no problem, sweet girl. I wouldn’t want my Quinn to be forced into something like that and, someday, I hope your father will change his mind and see that what he was trying to do was wrong.”
Emotions build inside my chest, making me nearly burst as I fight against them. I don’t want to have a breakdown right here on the curb at the airport. I swallow hard.
“Me too,” is all I can whisper.
My aunt’s face twists with pity. “Awww, come on. Let’s get you home, yeah?”
A single tear slips from my eye. It’s not until this very moment that I realize how serious all this is. For the first time in my life the unknown is staring me in the face and I’m scared shitless, yet exhilarated at the same time. I’ve never felt this free—this alive.
Quinn takes one of my suitcases and loads it into the trunk of her mom’s Prius. “I can’t believe you fit all your stuff in two bags. It would’ve taken at least ten for my shoes alone.”
I shake my head and smile. “You and your shoes. I’ve never known anyone more obsessed with them.”
She grins, and it lights up her gorgeous features. “I’d like to think only Imelda Marcos could rival me. I would love to peek in that lady’s closet.”
I roll my eyes as we shut the trunk. “I could think of so many better things to do with my time than explore an eighty-year-old woman’s shoe collection.”
She nods in agreement. “Mr. Cold asked me to let you know that he has your belongings.”
My eyes widen. “He does?”
Relief washes through me, only to be flushed away when I realize I have no way of getting in touch with him again. “I have no way of reaching him.”
She tilts her head and I hear the questioning tone in her voice when she says, “He said you have his number?”
I knit my eyebrows in confusion. I have his number? What’s he talking about? The only thing he gave me was…
Wait a minute.
I reach in my back pocket and pull out the paper containing his autograph, or at least I thought it was his autograph. I unfold it slowly and take in the thick, manly scroll.
I swallow hard as I stare at the number listed below his signature. Even in a simple note, his commanding tone makes my insides jitter.
A war rages within me. The exhilarated half of me is excited that I’ll likely see Xavier again, but the rational half knows that means I’m in for trouble. Trouble I’m not sure that I can resist.
However, one thing is clear, if I want my phone and other personal belongings back, I have no choice but to call him.
Heaven help where it may lead.
I head out into the warm Detroit summer and spot my family the moment I’m outside. Aunt Dee and my cousin Quinn wait in the loading zone for me as I wheel two large suitcases packed with all my clothes and shoes. I kept my eyes peeled at baggage claim, hoping to see Xavier and reclaim my items so I could be done with him for good, but there was no sign of him anywhere. The fact that I’m going to have to call that sexy beast of a man looms over me.
Aunt Dee greets me with a warm smile as I approach. “Anna, sweetheart, how are you? You look beautiful, darling, absolutely stunning, except for that hideous stain all over you. Looks like someone doused you with their drink.”
“It’s great to see you, Aunt Dee.”
I giggle at her words, laced with a thick Spanish accent, as I take in the multicolored bandana tied around her head in a chic, yet fashionable way that blends into her hairstyle. Like I said, Aunt Dee is a little eccentric. She’s an artist—a painter and a sculptor—and her creativity typically carries over into her wardrobe. Much like the tie-dyed maxi-dress she has on. “I hope this stain comes out. I didn’t bring a lot of clothes.”
“I know just the trick to get it out once we get home.” She pulls back and inspects me from head to toe. “You look so much like your mother. Doesn’t she, Quinn?”
I glance over at my cousin who is wearing a pair of cut-off shorts and a black tank top. Quinn has always been whom I would consider the most beautiful person in our family. We’re exactly the same age, but it’s hard to compete with her gorgeous brown hair and legs that go on for days. She’s drop-dead gorgeous, and every man around always notices her. She’s not stuck on herself though, which makes me love her even more. She’s about the most down-to-earth person I know.
Quinn smiles at me before wrapping me up in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here, Anna. We are going to have so much fun this summer.”
“Aye, girls…but not too much fun,” Aunt Dee warns. “Your father would have my head on a stick. He is the last person on earth I want on my back.”
Quinn pulls back. “How did this morning go?”
Allowing my eyes to flit back and forth between my aunt and cousin, I frown. They know how bad it was for me back home. We talk all the time, and Quinn is like a sister to me. If it weren’t for their support, I wouldn’t have had the guts to walk away like I did. “It was bad. I’m sure he’s still blowing up my phone telling me that I’m making a huge mistake.”
Aunt Dee shakes her head. “That’s where your father and I differ in opinion, Anna. Marrying a man you don’t love to please your family is a much larger mistake. He should want happiness for you, not sorrow.”
I nod. “I can never thank you enough for giving me a place to escape to.”
She cups my face. “It’s no problem, sweet girl. I wouldn’t want my Quinn to be forced into something like that and, someday, I hope your father will change his mind and see that what he was trying to do was wrong.”
Emotions build inside my chest, making me nearly burst as I fight against them. I don’t want to have a breakdown right here on the curb at the airport. I swallow hard.
“Me too,” is all I can whisper.
My aunt’s face twists with pity. “Awww, come on. Let’s get you home, yeah?”
A single tear slips from my eye. It’s not until this very moment that I realize how serious all this is. For the first time in my life the unknown is staring me in the face and I’m scared shitless, yet exhilarated at the same time. I’ve never felt this free—this alive.
Quinn takes one of my suitcases and loads it into the trunk of her mom’s Prius. “I can’t believe you fit all your stuff in two bags. It would’ve taken at least ten for my shoes alone.”
I shake my head and smile. “You and your shoes. I’ve never known anyone more obsessed with them.”
She grins, and it lights up her gorgeous features. “I’d like to think only Imelda Marcos could rival me. I would love to peek in that lady’s closet.”
I roll my eyes as we shut the trunk. “I could think of so many better things to do with my time than explore an eighty-year-old woman’s shoe collection.”
