The Power of a Name
Chapter Four
When Mimi arrived home that night, she was sure her day couldn't get any more bizarre. That was before she sat down to dinner with her family, and her mother made her big announcement. "Mimi, Conner," she began innocently enough. "As you know, I haven't been feeling very well lately…"
"Oh, Mom!" Mimi exclaimed, interrupting her. "Everything's been so crazy I forgot to ask. How did your doctor's appointment go? You're all right, aren't you?" She couldn't believe she had been too absorbed in her own thoughts to even take time to ask her mother how she was. What a selfish brat she must be.
"I'm fine, Mimi," Maureen reassured her daughter with a fond, secret smile across the table to her husband. "Frankly when I went to the doctor, I was sure she would tell me I was going through…" She paused, remembering Connor's presence. "Well, you know. But I'm not. The truth is…well…kids, your father and I are having a baby." She anxiously watched her children to judge their reactions.
"A baby?" Connor repeated, wrinkling his nose. "It won't take my room will it?"
David ruffled his son's hair affectionately. "No, Connor, your room is safe." Connor nodded his satisfaction. Apparently that was the extent of his interest in the new baby. David turned his attention to his daughter. Mimi seemed stunned speechless, a rare quality in his daughter. He squeezed her hand slightly. "Meems? What do you think?"
Mimi shook her head slowly in returning sensibility. What did she think? She didn't think. She was incapable of it. Her mother was having a baby the year she was graduating high school. Her mother shouldn't be having babies. She was too old! She should be having grandchildren soon, damn it. Mimi pulled herself out of her fog and saw the nervous looks on her parents' faces as they watched her. But even that couldn't disguise the happy, expectant glow they both had. They were overjoyed about this.
And why shouldn't they be? And why shouldn't Mimi be happy for them? She was the one who was always bragging about how her parents loved each other so much. This baby was proof of that love. As she was. As Connor was. "I think," she started slowly. "That this baby is getting the greatest parents in the world." She smiled beatifically at them. "I'm thrilled for you—for all of us. I'm gonna be a sister again." Her smile widened as she remembered how cute and fun Connor had been as a baby.
"Oh darling," her mother murmured, tears shimmering in the green eyes she had passed down to her daughter. "Thank you. I know this has got to be awkward for you. It is for me too. But I'm just so happy." With one hand, she clasped Mimi's free hand in her own. With the other, she lovingly covered her still flat abdomen. "One thing is for sure. With a big sister and brother like you two, this baby will have as much love as the world can hold."
Connor just rolled his eyes, more interested in his taco than in his mother's sappiness. But Mimi moved. Not just by her mother's words, but by the look in her father's eyes as he watched her mother. After twenty years of marriage, he was still head over heels in love with her. Maybe more so than on the day they married. That's what I want, Mimi thought wistfully. If Susan saw that look in her dad's eyes every night, she would understand. I want to be held and caressed without him even needing to touch me. I want a love that lasts a lifetime.
And once again, the stranger's face swam before her eyes.
~~*~~
A soft knock sounded on Mimi's door late that night. "Come in," she called from her wrapped up position in the window seat, staring at the stars.
Maureen Lockhart opened the door and smiled at the familiar sight. "You know, from the time you were five years old, I don't think there's ever been a time I've come into your room and found you anyplace but that window seat." She came into the room, and Mimi bunched up her legs to make room for her mother on the other end of her seat. "Whether you were playing or reading or talking on the phone or…wishing on a star?" She smiled and raised her eyebrows.
Mimi laughed self-consciously. She and her mother had always had a unique bond. They were in every respect mother and daughter, but they were also the closest of friends. She had always been able to tell her mother everything. "Does every mother know their daughter so well?"
"No, only the good ones," Maureen teased lightly. "So I'll use some more of my motherly intuition and guess that you were wishing for Prince Charming to come and sweep you off your feet." There was no derision in her tone. She was proud that her daughter set such high ideals for any man that might come into her life. It would keep her from making so many wrong choices.
Mimi blushed a little, but she smiled too. "I blame you, Mom. You shouldn't have read me so many fairy tales growing up. Now I have to ask every guy I meet if they've got a white horse to sweep me off on. And don't even get me started on the rarity of cute guys with spare castles lying around."
Maureen laughed. "Well, I'm not sure that we have to take that part literally, honey. Now, do you want to tell me what's on your mind?" Mimi had seemed distracted from the moment she arrived home, even before they had told her about the baby.
Mimi sighed, resigned to the downside of having a mother who could see right through her. She didn't give up until she knew the full story. "A lot of stuff. It all started this morning at school. Kevin asked me to go to the prom with him."
Maureen grimaced, preparing herself for what she knew was about to come next. Honestly, when would that boy understand that Mimi just wasn't interested? Personally, she had never liked Kevin all that much. Or rather, she didn't like the way he treated her daughter. He claimed to love her, but every word Maureen had ever heard him speak to Mimi had seemed condescending and patronizing, like she was just a stupid little girl and should be grateful that a guy like him would want her. Not the kind of thing to warm a mother's heart. "How did he react when you said no?"
Mimi wasn't surprised that her mother had known her answer. Turning down Kevin had become routine in her life. "He said I should quit living in a dream world and face reality. That I should quit chasing illusions before I let something good slip away. Is he right, Mom?" she asked, all her doubts finally reaching to the surface.
"No," Maureen responded immediately and firmly. "He was shooting his mouth off because you hurt his pride. You did the right thing, honey. Never go along with anything you don't feel is right just to spare someone else's feelings. You know that. You are an intelligent, strong young woman—with a firm grasp of reality, I might add—who has sound instincts and a good heart. Trust yourself and your heart, Mimi. They won't lead you wrong."
Mimi's heart gave a little leap. Did that mean she could trust her emotions about her mystery guy too? Could he really be the one she was waiting for? "Mom, did you know Dad was the only one for you the first time you met him?" She asked her question with seeming nonchalance, but she knew her mother would be able to see her heart shining through her eyes.
Maureen smiled slightly as she recalled her first memory of David. She had been working in a flower shop at the time, and he had come in to buy flowers for a date. He had returned every day for two weeks to buy a bouquet before finally admitting he came to see her and asking her out on a date. Mimi had grown up hearing the story of course. It had once been her favorite bedtime story. But this question was different. Maureen could see how very important her answer was to her daughter.
"I'm not sure I'd go that far," Maureen answered thoughtfully. "It took me quite a while to realize that. I'm not sure I truly even comprehended that concept until the day you were born, and he laid you in my arms. That's when I realized that we were meant to be together forever, living as two halves of the same heart."
"Oh," Mimi responded glumly, her momentary hope sinking. Susan was right after all. Love at first sight was an illusion. Her parents' relationship had always been her model of what love should be; and if their love had built over time, then that's what she should be looking for. Not some silly childish notion of kismet and instant connections. Not some handsome stranger with eyes that held mysterious depths and a smile that made her melt inside.
"But," Maureen continued, too lost in her own thoughts to take into account the expression on her daughter's face. "There was a moment when I was handing him a bouquet and our fingers brushed. I felt a bond with him that I'd never felt with anyone before. Our eyes met, and I could almost swear I saw his soul."
Mimi's emotions continued their tumultuous roller coaster ride as her heart resumed its celebration. "Really?"
Maureen nodded and blushed like a school girl. She gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I know it sounds a little silly, but that's how it felt then and how it still feels now." She studied her daughter's bright, hopeful face and her sparkling emerald eyes. "It will happen for you, darling. I'm sure of it. If anyone deserves a storybook romance, it's you."
Mimi just nodded, unwilling to share her Prince Charming with her mother just yet. She felt it might go over a little better if she as least knew his name first.
~~*~~
Jason groaned as he sank back onto the bed. What the hell had convinced him to take a job as a school security guard? The last thing he wanted to do with his days was search a bunch of noisy, obnoxious brats for concealed weapons. In fact, the only people he truly wanted to see were his good friends Jack Daniels and Sam Adams. He mentally cursed the employment office that had given him a job where he couldn't even drink. And going to work at seven in the morning wasn't someth8ing that could be done with a hangover. It wasn't even something normal people should do at all.
Maybe her should just quit and leave town again. But something inside him forbade him from doing that. Something beyond his power held him here. He couldn't for the life of him understand it, but he obeyed. He didn't have anyplace else to go anyway. He couldn't, he wouldn't go back to Salem. And he was tired of drifting. He had been living out of a suitcase for too long. Hotel life was getting extremely old.
He had run far and fast to escape his memories of Belle, his fear of her death. But the only place he had found he could forget was in a bottle. Now with alcohol forbidden him, the memories came rushing back. But this time, he didn't want to forget. He wanted to remember everything about her. From his first memory of the time they were four years old playing in the sandbox when she had kissed his cheek and Brady had laughed and said he had cooties to the last time he had seen her, so close to the end but with the same bright light shining out of her eyes.
He had been such a fool, such a selfish, stupid fool. He had missed the chance to form more memories of her, the chance to say goodbye. He hadn't even attended her funeral. And now nothing would be able to bring him joy the way her sweet smile had. No one would complete him the way she did. God, he missed her! It had been two terribly long years since then, but still he was unable to move on. He doubted he would ever be able to.
He hadn't even been able to really look at a woman since Belle. Well, except that one time. How he wished he could erase that night. In a moment of weakness, he had betrayed the memory of the purest woman in the world, a woman he had loved all his life, with a cheap whore. The things they had done that night still left a foul taste in his mouth. He remembered how cool and cavalier she had been about it. She must have had some sort of ice water running through her veins.
Jason didn't want to think about her. He didn't want to think about the dozens of propositions he'd been made since leaving Salem either. All those women were cheap trash. They couldn't possibly compete with a woman he had elevated to the ranks of sainthood. There would never be another Belle. And there would never be another woman for Jason. He swore it on the most precious thing he had left—Belle's memory.
~~*~~
She greeted him with a twisted smile. She had been sure after yesterday he'd never be back again. Oh well. Maybe today he'd just take what he was really after and leave. Then, she wouldn't have to think about him anymore. She could put him into the same category as all the rest and forget about him. "Hello, mister. Realize you didn't get your money's worth yesterday?" she taunted.
Brady frowned. Her defenses were practically insurmountable. How was he ever going to break through them? "I told you I'd be back," he said calmly, refusing to let her rattle him with her words. Or with her almost non-existent black lace lingerie. But it was damn near impossible not to fantasize about her body. Focus on her eyes, he ordered himself. They're all that matters.
At the moment, her eyes were filled with laughing triumph. She had seen how he responded physically to her appearance. Good. It was progress. "Sure you came here to talk again, mister?" she asked derisively, coming close enough for the ripe swell of her breasts to barely rub against his chest. "Because I'm sure you've thought of other, better ways to pass the time."
He inhaled sharply and she was sure she'd won. But then, he stepped quickly away from her and took the chair by the vanity again. "I'm sure. I came here to talk to you, Tempest."
Careful not to let her fear show, she sat down on the edge of the bed, not even bothering to reach for her robe to cover herself. If this was how wanted to play it, fine. She would just let him squirm. "So, what do you want to talk about, mister? Why you have such a hard time getting it up?"
Brady raised an eyebrow sardonically. He understood perfectly what she was doing. Trying to humiliate and anger him enough so that he would have sex with her just to prove his manhood. Too bad for her he wasn't taking the bait. "How about we discuss another actual problem instead? Like your excessive need to play this by your set of rules. Have you even considered the possibility that maybe—just maybe—I'm different from all the other men you've known?"
The knot of fear in her belly was tightening with every word he spoke. She needed him gone and now, and she knew just how to get to him. She laughed mockingly. "How? Are you gay, mister? Is that the problem? Confused about your sexuality and needing to prove you're all man?"
But he didn't seem the least bit upset by her accusation. In fact, he seemed a little amused by it. As if it was what he had expected her to do. "I'm not gay, and I know you know that. Why are you so intent on attacking me, Acacia? What exactly are you afraid will happen if you let me in a little?" He studied her eyes intently, judging her reaction. He was thrilled when he saw a dart of surprise join the continued fear. He was getting to her at last.
"What did you just call me?" she asked, not sure she wanted to know, but needing the distraction from his questions. Damn him! Why wouldn't he just give up and go away?
"Acacia," Brady repeated. "It means 'thorny.'" He had spent hours yesterday pouring over name books for precisely this situation. The only honest reaction he had been able to get from her the first time was at the mention of her name. It was a weakness he would exploit for as long as it took to get her to open up to him.
The fear was at a pitch where it could easily overwhelm her if she let it. Who was this man? What right did he have to do this to her? "That's not my name," she said coldly through clenched teeth. So many men had called her so many things over the years, but this was different. She didn't want him calling her anything but Sapphire.
"Neither is Sapphire," Brady returned, completely unperturbed by her anger. At least it was real instead of the false mask of the seductress she wore. And it was better by far than her cold indifference. "But I'm not calling you that. So unless you feel like telling me your real name, you're going to have to live with the ones I choose."
"I don't have to live with any of them," she spat out, completely forgetting about the front of aloof disdain she was supposed to be putting up. "Look, I don't know what your thing is. Maybe you've watched Pretty Woman one too many time and have bought into the whole hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold fantasy. Let me give you a clue. That's not me. I'm not waiting to be rescued by some guy. I don't want to be. So take your crap and feed it to someone who cares."
Her entire body was shaking with rage by the time she finished. But instead of looking hurt, offended, and ready to leave, he was still sitting there, staring at her with crystal blue eyes full of emotions so foreign to her life that she didn't even know what to call them. She didn't even want to know what they were. They frightened her more than anything else.
"You don't trust me at all. I get that," Brady finally replied. "I'm sure you've never been given much reason to trust anyone before in your life. But I'm going to prove you're wrong about me. I'm not going to use you, Tempest. I'm not going to hurt you like the others have."
Damn right, you're not, she swore silently. I'm not going to give you the chance. "Forgive me if I don't fall at your feet in gratitude," she responded sarcastically. "I'll make this real easy on you, mister. I'm yours for the rest of this hour. Whatever you want, I can do it for you. I can make you feel things you've only dreamed possible. But if you're looking for some sinner to reform, the church rescue mission is just around the corner. Now, what's it gonna be?"
Brady just kept looking at her in that way that terrified her. She had thought she had seen every way a man could look, but this was horrifying simply by its inability to fit into any of those categories. She was too smart, too well-trained to believe a word out of him mouth. But she couldn't figure out what he was after. And she hated nothing more than feeling unprepared. It left her off-balance and vulnerable to attacks like this.
"I want you," he replied quietly after a long pause. She smiled, catlike, ready to show him what she was really capable of. "But I don't want what you're offering. I don't want your body for an hour. I want all of you—mind, heart, body, and soul. And I want you forever."
The fear she had been feeling since he first entered the room escalated to a full-scale panic. She would never belong to anyone forever again. She would never give him that kind of control over her. And she would never give him her heart and soul—for the simple reason that she didn't have them. Not anymore. Her mind was a place so dark that even if she did let him in, he'd run away repulsed by what he found. "You can wish for it all you want, mister. It's never gonna happen."
Brady just smiled confidently. "We'll see about that, Acacia. I'm a very patient man." He wasn't sure where his assurance came from. Only the sure knowledge that there was a reason, a purpose greater than what he comprehended behind his connection to her.
"Then you can wait till hell freezes over," she bit out. What had happened to her indifference, her thick armor? It had deserted her the moment he entered the room. And she hadn't needed it this much since she had escaped the Phoenix.
"Okay," Brady responded, completely relaxed. "So while I'm waiting, feel like telling me anything about yourself?" She merely glared at him in petulant silence. "I'll take that as a no. Too bad. Now I'll have to bore you with the life and times of Brady Black."
She rolled her eyes at his lame attempt to get her to open up to him. Like she would fall for that. But then, much to her surprise, he did start talking about himself and with too much detail and feeling for her to believe he was making it up. He'd have to be a better liar than the Phoenix himself. He talked about his home in the mountains, about his parents and his sister. She tried to hid her amazement at how accepting and yet affected he sounded when he told her of their deaths. How did he achieve that level of peace? She berated herself for caring. She was supposed to be working at shutting him out. She had to detach herself, sit in silence. Pretend to listen but not really hear. Focus on anything else. Replay arias in her head. Watch the clock tick the minutes by. She was skilled in the practice of faking it. This shouldn't be so hard.
Brady watched her eyes glaze over. Damn it. He was losing her. He had been getting through to her for a while. He was sure of it. She would be sure to remember him if he gave her some of his personal history. He needed to set himself apart from the endless stream of nameless faces she confronted every day and night. And he'd been doing it. He'd seen her eyes flicker when he'd told her about Belle. But then she had just shut down. He couldn't blame her really. She had no reason to trust him, or anyone else for that matter. She didn't need to tell him her story for him to know that she'd been used and abused for most of her life. But he would keep trying until he had earned her trust.
"Time's up," she interrupted him, her eyes on the clock. "You need to leave now." She was off the bed and practically shoving him out the door.
Brady turned in the doorway, once again seeing the fear in her eyes behind her cold outer shell. His eyes locked fully with hers, and she found herself unable to pull them away. "Come away with me," he whispered huskily, repeating his plea from the night before.
Once again, the shadow of the Phoenix settled over her, filling her with a dread of the man in front of her. He could have as much power over her as the Phoenix had, and there was no telling how he would use it. Beneath his nice guy exterior show, he could even more ruthless than the Phoenix. "No," she answered with even more force than the day before.
Brady nodded. He knew it was coming, but still he had to ask her. It was a compulsion he had no control over. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said pleasantly, acting unaffected by her rejection. He was used to rejection. He'd dealt with it his whole life.
"You don't need to bother," she returned scathingly, hoping to make him see what a lost cause she was. "The answer will still be the same, no matter how often you come. If you're really so lonely, I'm sure one of the other girls would be happy to listen to you. And for a lot less money too."
"I told you before, I want you. I'm not leaving this place until you come with me." He could tell by the look on her face that he had pushed her as far as he dared tonight. "Good night, Tempest."
She watched him walk away, feeling her migraine growing by the instant. Damn him. Why was he doing this to her? Why was he trying to hard to break down her walls? She couldn't let him. Once the walls were gone, he'd be able to see what was inside of her. And that was nothing. Nothing at all.