CHAPTER EIGHT
Harrison stood at the bottom of the stairs and gazed up the steps at the tower. He couldn’t help noticing the discolored cracked paint. Paige was right. They did need to continue their renovation upstairs. He rolled his left shoulder and chuckled slightly. Even if the stairwell didn’t look its best, it was nothing compared to the distress the drywall was suffering in his room.
He could hear Paige moving in her room. The floor was making the regular little creaking noises it made as she padded around getting ready for bed. One side of Harrison wanted to climb those stairs and talk to her. The other side didn’t want to. His brain was rapidly formulating reasons to let the forthcoming conversation slide. One; he should wait until Fallon left. Two; it didn’t matter who owned her before. Three; hearing her story probably wouldn’t change anything.
He was being stupid.
Harrison uncrossed his arms and started up the steps. When he got to the door, he hesitated briefly but then gathering his courage, he knocked a crisp little knock. Running away wouldn't make the situation better. Whatever he felt, he needed to know what the situation was before the guy showed up at his doorstep.
Paige called for him to come in.
He opened the door and saw her. She had just emerged from the bathroom. She was folding a black towel and wearing a pair of oversized men’s pajamas. Well, oversized on her. He recognized the pair. It was a set of his he had given her weeks ago that he told her were okay to tear into rags.
He was about to say something about it when he realized that she was wearing something he had worn for so many years, they were practically a part of him. Suddenly, he was happy she hadn’t thrown them away.
“Can I close the door?” he asked wearily.
Paige nodded and sat down on the corner of the bed.
Harrison took a deep breath and said, “I take it you know this Zaphier Rawson guy? Was he your former owner?”
She nodded again and knotted the towel in her hands.
“Uh-huh. Would you like to tell me a bit more about that?”
Paige bit her lip. “How much do you want to know?”
That was the question of the hour. Harrison frowned and took the towel from her hands so that he would have something to knot to relieve the tension. “As much as possible.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Why not? It wouldn't matter if there wasn't a possibility that he would show up here. Since there is, I’d like to be prepared.”
“I’ve known him since I was fifteen,” she explained, her voice dry. “My family lived in a cottage on Zaphier’s family’s property. My father and brother were hired to help care for their trees. Zaphier had long since moved out, but he was around from time to time.”
“During that time,” Harrison cut in. “What was your relationship with him?”
“I didn’t have one,” Paige shrugged. “He was the son of the house and I was less than a servant. I had a crush on him,” Paige grudgingly admitted.
“So, how did he happen to buy you?”
“It was pathetic, but I was still trying to catch his eye when I was twenty-two. Then one day, I did. He knew I liked him. It seemed that he knew I’d liked him for years and after two official dates with him, he asked to buy me for ten months.”
“He was that taken with you?” Harrison asked, completely astonished. “To offer you that kind of money?”
“It seemed too good to be true, which was why I made him raise the price so many times. Other than that, all I remember is being so lovesick over him I was sometimes literally ill. In the end, I couldn’t refuse him.”
Harrison didn’t reply. He could only deduce that since she fell on the floor after just hearing his name she must still be harboring feelings for Zaphier.
“I don’t have any idea what happened that made me want to forget the time I spent with him,” Paige continued. “From the bank statements, it’s clear that our arrangement didn’t go beyond ten months. That’s all I know.”
“You know you still love him,” Harrison said, betraying not even an ounce of what he felt.
Paige dropped her head and said quietly, “I guess I do.”
“Well, I’d like to make it clear that any request he makes of you beyond what is expected of a hostess will be looked down on by me. I don’t want to catch you lingering by his side. Other than a polite greeting, I want you to forget you ever knew him. Do you think you’ll be able to do that?”
Paige shook her head miserably. “You don’t know what he’s like. He’ll probably insist that I stay with him the whole time and because he’s so rich and powerful and the whole focus of their visit here—you’ll probably be forced to comply with anything he wants.”
“Like hell, I will!” Harrison fairly shouted. “Do you think one spoiled pretty boy can hurt this business I’ve built up? Even if this place isn’t as successful as I hope this year—the worst thing that could happen is that I would—”
“Have your knees broken?” Paige supplied.
He scowled at her.
“Look,” she said, “if things go badly, you could always rent me out to get the twenty thousand dollars we need to pay my debt off. That would be the fairest thing. After all, it’s not your debt,” Paige said stiffly. She had been wracking her brains for weeks, trying to figure out how she could help Harrison pay that debt if they didn’t make enough money during the summer. Renting herself out was the only thing she could think of.
For a second, Harrison looked like he was going to strangle her with the towel he was knotting. “You think I’d do that to you?”
Paige dropped her shoulders. “Well, what do you suggest?” she asked limply. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
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Harrison bent his lips into the most unpleasant sneer. “Did you happen to have a renter in mind?”
“What?”
“Well,” Harrison went on, his voice as searing as liquid metal. “Since Zaphier Rawson is coming here, are you suggesting that I rent you out to him during his stay? He opens his wallet big for you. Do you think we could charge him twenty thousand dollars for a couple of days?”
Paige stared at Harrison incredulously.
“I guess you couldn’t make it worth his while without touching him!” Harrison spat, flinging the door open and storming down the stairs.
He heard Paige come after him, but he didn’t stop. He went straight to his room and slammed the door behind him. Then he locked it and raked his hair with his hands.
“Harrison! Wait! I didn’t mean it like that!” he heard Paige cry on the other side of the door.
Harrison had only been behaving like a lovesick teenager for two minutes and even though he would have liked to continue, he took a deep breath and opened the door. Standing in the hallway, Paige’s cheeks were red with embarrassment and her eyes wide with pleading. Harrison didn’t forgive her for what she said just because she looked sorry or because she was wearing his old pajamas. Her comment about renting her out meant that he didn’t mean anything to her. He was extremely embarrassed by his feelings for her. Not to mention how humiliated he was for reacting so passionately.
To make himself seem somewhat more sensible after his flare of temper, he said levelly, “I’m not renting you out.”
She wrung her fingers together and nodded.
“I don’t care what you did for that Rawson guy in the past—you’re not doing it again. Got it?”
She bit her lip, and Harrison supposed that the slight motion of her head meant she was agreeing with him. “I wasn’t thinking of that,” she finally said quietly. “I was thinking that maybe I could get a job in town, and…”
“There aren’t any jobs in town.”
“But Narissa always looks so tired at the café.”
Harrison crossed his arms and tried to ebb his frustration. “Even if I got you a job there, the pay for the rest of the year would not make a dent in what we need. There’s no point.”
Paige sighed and her shoulders fell.
“No, Paige. It’s no good,” Harrison said, sparing one hand to touch her arm briefly. “Don’t worry about the debt. I’ll figure it out.”
Then he sent her to bed, but that didn’t make him feel any better. At that point, nothing could make him feel better.
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Paige sat in the café in town and watched Narissa. She was cleaning a soft ice cream machine and watching her was making Paige feel exhausted to the bone. The café was empty except for the two of them and the sound of Narissa’s squeaking scrubbing tools.
Paige was taking a break sponsored by Harrison. He didn’t usually leave her in the café to rest while he loaded supplies, but that was how things were rolling since the night she mentioned to him that he ought to rent her out. Paige didn’t mean it the way he imagined. He clearly hadn’t read his Sleeping Beauty handbook. If he had, he’d know that her bracelet would give out an electric shock intended to fry both her and the man touching her if the guy left his hand on her for an extended length of time—anything longer than two minutes. She explained it to Harrison in the morning. However, to her disappointment, it didn’t seem to help with their misunderstanding.
Paige didn’t like being left in the cafe to rest. If she rested, she’d think and thinking had to be avoided.
She couldn’t go to Zaphier even if he wanted her. She wore a scrap of blue silk leftover from the curtains she’d made for the kitchen over her bracelet, reminding her who she belonged to. There was no point in regretting being with Harrison instead of Zaphier. She had no idea what drove her back into slavery. Whatever she felt, she couldn’t change it.
Suddenly, Paige got the urge to talk to Narissa. After all, she was the only person Paige could talk to who might understand her feelings. “So, Keziah doesn’t know you were bought?” Paige asked, scooping up her remaining salsa with her last chip.
Narissa tilted her head and didn’t answer.
Paige didn’t do anything to press her other than leave her ears open. Waiting for Narissa to respond was better than sitting around wishing she was free to belong to Zaphier again.
When Narissa finally did speak, her answer surprised Paige. “To be honest, I’m not very interested in keeping it a secret from her. You see, this isn’t the first time I’ve sold myself and it isn’t the first time I’ve lost years in cryostasis. If she doesn’t know already—I’m not in the mood to go out of my way to keep it a secret from her. It has never come up in conversation.”
Paige nodded and picked a piece of melted cheese off her empty nacho plate.
“Why? Do you care if it becomes public knowledge that you’re a Sleeping Beauty model?” Narissa asked.
“No, but the idea seems to bother Harrison,” Paige said breezily as she waved her blue silk like a little flag.
A wary whisper of a smile spread itself across Narissa’s face. “I guess it would.”
“Harrison says you’re in your thirties. How old are you?”
Narissa blew a strand of her hair out of her eyes. “In a very real way, I’m only in my early thirties, but if you go by the calendar on the wall, I’m actually in my late fifties.”
Paige’s jaw dropped.
“How is that possible?”
“My last husband, owner, whatever he was, liked to put me in cryostasis whenever he was about to do something I wasn’t going to like. He was always dipping his fingers into something dirty and since he couldn’t stop my disapproval, no matter how many times he punished me, he found it easier just to remove me from the situation until he had had his fun or made his money. Then when he came to get me, I hadn’t aged a day and I wasn’t angry because I didn’t know what he’d done. Whatever it was, it was always water under the bridge by the time he unfroze me. He used to leave me in cryostasis for years on end sometimes. He’s dead now. God rest his soul. And I still have quite a few good years left in me.”
Paige was speechless.
Narissa went on. “I’ll never forget the last time he came to get me. He’d aged terribly and his business had failed. It was his brother who had been paying to keep me in cryostasis for the past three years and he wouldn’t pay for it anymore, so my darling husband had to unfreeze me.”
Paige suddenly wanted to know. “Then you remember a lot about him?”
The smile disappeared. She nodded and came over to Paige’s table and took a seat across from her. “I should. I was married to him for twenty-six years, but I spent around sixteen of those years frozen.”
“Do your memories of him make you unhappy?” Paige asked, observing Narissa’s lifeless expression.
The other woman raked the skin on her face from her temple to her jawline with her fingernails. “It’s over and the memory of it is like a life that wasn’t mine. You should know how lucky you are to have been bought by Harrison. He’s a good man.”
Paige was about to agree when Keziah suddenly burst in through the door. “Oh, it’s you,” she said accusingly when she saw Paige. Then she slid behind the bar and retrieved her phone from under the counter.
“I’ve told you a hundred times. Don’t leave here without that,” Narissa said crossly to Keziah. “Wy hates it when he can’t get you on the phone.”
Keziah smirked, “I’ll remember next time.”
It was an obvious lie.
“Has she already told you the good news?” Keziah called to Narissa across the café.
“There’s good news?” Narissa perked up slightly. “Are you and Harrison getting married?”
“As if!” Keziah shrieked before Paige could answer for herself. “No! Harrison said he’s getting a celebrity to tour the ice fields in his chocker. Guess who?” Keziah pressed a few buttons on her phone and within seconds projected a glamour shot of Zaphier Rawson on the wall of the café.
Paige ducked her head. Even looking at him was painful. How had she let him slip through her fingers? That night when she decided to sell herself to him, she had promised herself that their time together would never end. She would make him fall in love with her. How had it gone wrong?
Amid her discomfort, Paige couldn’t help noticing Narissa’s reaction to the picture. She didn’t look the least bit impressed. She actually raised her eyebrow and let out a half-laugh that seemed to die in her throat. Then she got up and wiped her hands on her clothes like she was trying to brush off disgust that just wouldn’t come off.