Marnie stepped out onto the terrace and took a seat at a frosted glass table. The cool air wrapped around her, and she shivered. Danny's last note shook her soul violently, threatening to never let her go. Air.She'd needed to get out of that room and breathe. It'd frightened her, and she wasn't used to feeling scared.
“It's natural for you to feel vulnerable right now,” her therapist had told her.
Marnie had come back to the penthouse one afternoon, and there she was in Danny's office.
“You two play nice.” He'd pushed her in and shut the door.
He'd done it, meddled again. After her strenuous refusal to see anyone, he'd gone behind her back. At least the woman was nice in a demure way, like a snake.
“Who do you trust?” she asked.
Marnie was dumbfounded about the question. No one.
“You must trust someone,” she said.
Danny? No, she thought a frown forming. That rat bastard had lied to her. What right did he have to unearth her family? Now, every night she thought about Adam. How defeated he'd looked when she'd slammed the door in his face. He hadn't deserved that. What he must think of her now, after she had slit her wrists?
“Marnie.”
She glanced back at Danny, who'd come to stand beside her. Was it too late to take him up on his offer to punch him?
“Are you cold?” He wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. The silk lining felt wonderful against her skin. He was still a bastard. But speaking of cologne, his was soft. She was much more used to the loud ones that forced their way into her life, demanding she pay attention to their forest and mountain sensibilities. But his smelled like a soft caress, strong and urgent but not overwhelming.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
He arched an eyebrow as he took a seat next to her. “What do you mean?”
I mean you've been plain weird lately. Bringing her tea, offering to grab lunch, knocking on her door. He never knocked. Just said “Coming in.” Now it was a soft knock, followed by “Everything okay in there? May I come in?” May?!!!
“You've been different.”
“Things have changed.”
And he left it at that. Marnie turned his words over, searching for the secret hidden between them. Had everything changed?
His fingers wiggled in the side pocket of his jacket, tickling her stomach.
“Your birthday is coming up.” He held up his hand, when she started to protest. “And since I know you don't want to celebrate it, I am going to honor your request by letting it go by. Today is your second birthday.” He placed a miniature box in her hand. “You told me you wanted help staying sober, one year ago on this date.” He opened the box. A pair of pearl earrings lay against a white padding. “I thought this might go nicely with that necklace you always wear,” he whispered against her ear.
She dropped the box on the glass tabletop. The memory of what she'd done burned through her. Fat, hot tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Marnie?” His voice was cautious.
Between sobs she tried to explain. “I gave him away. That necklace was the last thing my father ever gave me, and I let him go. Oh, Daddy, how could I do that?”
He stood, his chair screeching across the stamped concrete. “Come on. Let's go.”
She swallowed a deep breath of air, in an attempt to calm herself. “It's alright, I'll be fine.”
“Marnie,” he leaned closer to her, a quiet anger bubbling in his gray eyes. “We're leaving.”
He grabbed her arm, his grip tight, but not painful.
He swiftly hugged, shook hands, kissed and waved his way through friends and admirers. Nia pouted, but a quick peck on the cheek simmered the protest. Outside the ballroom, he beckoned the hostess to show them out the back entry.
“Don't forget to smile.” He pushed the door open. A group of photographers began snapping pictures from various directions. Danny gave them a wave as he guided Marnie up the street.
He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. After the second ring he said, “Jackson, meet me at West 17th Street.”
“I'm sorry,” she said when he ended the call. “I didn't mean to ruin the evening.”
He took his hand away and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Come on. It's only a few blocks away.”
They stopped in front of a jewelry store. Upon entering, the sales clerk said, “You have ten minutes before we close.”
“Show me your pearl necklaces,” Danny requested. She took them over to a white display case, where every color of pearl conceivable, shone under the light.
Danny turned to her. “Pick one.”
She almost slapped him. “What are you doing?”
“Pick one that reminds you of your father.”
“Are you kidding me?” she hissed. Nothing could replace what her father had given to her.
“Pipe down and humor me.”
“You have to trust someone.” Her therapist's words echoed. Well, not her therapist, ‘cause that would mean she'd see her again and that wasn't happening.
She stared at the fresh water pearl section. A copper one caught her attention. One pearl on a single strand. Not her father's necklace, but similar in design.
“This one.” She glanced at Danny.
“Can you wrap this one up for us?” he said to the sales lady.
“I don't want another one.” Tears began to well in her eyes again.
“Hush.”
When they left the shop, the limousine was waiting for them. The driver alighted from the front seat and opened the door for them.
“Take us to the beach.”
The beach? She wasn't sure she liked this new side of Danny. At least the gruff one felt safe, this one had a quiet determination about him. Unpredictable.
“It's quite natural for you to feel out of control right now. Without the smack you've got nothing to hide behind, but you'll be fine,” her therapist had said. “You're ready.”
“For what?” She'd snapped.
“For love.”
No. Anything but that. Love hurt too much. She thought of her mother, of Adam. Danny didn't love her or care for her, and that was what made this whole…fiasco, okay. She didn't trust him, but she could count on him to be predicable in his asshole‐ish ways.
“We're here.”
Damn it. What is he doing?
Cold sand seeped into her open‐toed heels as they made their way toward the water.
They kneeled in front of the waves.
“I don't know what happened to your necklace, and I don't give a damn. But I don't think you should mourn him like this. Marnie, it's time to let him go.”
He dropped the necklace in with the box of earrings.
Her shoulders slumped. Her father was all she had left. One happy memory. Someone who knew her before she'd lost herself. She turned to protest.
Danny placed the box in her hands. “It's not helping you, it's hurting, and if your father loved you, he wouldn't want you to remember him this way.”
But then I'll be all alone.
“Think of him and when you're ready, put him in the water. I'll be over here.” He pointed to a hilly section of the beach close to the gate.
Fuck him. She clutched the box and thought about running away. Always meddling. Why don't you just leave me alone? I can't do this.
She rocked back and forth, her heart skipping a beat each time she thought of putting the box in the water. No.
She glanced back. He lay back in the sand, propped up by his elbows, staring stonily at her.
How could he be so cruel? She couldn't do this. You have to. It was this love shit, getting in the way again. She loved her father and as long as she held that, it would continue to hurt her. Maybe I like pain. But Dad wouldn't want her to mourn him for the rest of her life. That's one thing that rat bastard, Danny, was right about.
She lowered the box into the water, expecting it to float away. Go. The box hovered stubbornly in the water. She splashed water on it and finally, a wave came and carried it out to the ocean.
He stood up, as she marched toward him. “I know you're mad now, but trust me, you'll feel better,” Danny said.
She clutched his dress shirt between her fingers, burying her face in his chest.
His hands slid around her waist. “Ready to go?”
She stiffened when he stepped back, a soft whimper escaping her lips. She gripped his shirt tighter.
“Okay.” He rested his chin on top of her forehead.
Bastard. Always meddling, making her change. But he was here, even if he didn't want to be.
She cried, harder than she had the first time she'd learned of her father's death.
He tightened his arms around her. For a while they listened to the water dance in the ocean and the wind rush past them. He grabbed her right hand and his thumb began to massage her palm. Oddly, it comforted her.
He pulled her back and gazed into her violet eyes. “Hungry?” Her stomach rumbled loudly. “I'll take that as a yes.”
Stiffly, she followed him back across the sand.
Once in the limo again Danny said, “In a few days you'll feel better.”
“Shut the hell up.” She rolled the window down and her locks fluttered in the breeze.
“Maybe it'll help to talk this over with your therapist.”
“Talk to her about my father?”
“Everything that's bothering you.”
Tell her about the rape? Tell her about how their musky smells haunted her every night since she'd seen Paul.
“I don't ever want to see her again.” Her grip tightened around the door handle.
“Marnie.” His voice, a cautious whisper.
He glanced out the window. They were entering the freeway.
“I can't,” she screamed.
He pried her fingers from the door handle. “Okay, you win.” His voice soft, soothing.
Get away from me, imposter.
“I don't believe you.” She reached for the door again.
“You got my dry cleaning wrong.”
What?
“Now I've been nice. Letting you spend time with Jessica. Making my own lunch runs. But fucking up my dry cleaning, Marnie? What am I supposed to do with a shirt and no pants?”
Yes. She released her grip on the door handle and sank back on the seat. The asshole's back.
“Won't happen again,” she murmured.
“Okay. Take out a pen and paper, there's a whole slew of shit we need to go over, now that you're done with your vacation,” Danny barked.