"Ten Days Wonder" -Two.
It was well past ten in the morning when she left Creme Brulee. "La Boulee," she reminded herself, aloud, with a giggle. David was a terrible influence. Between "Creme Brulee" and "La Blue Lei," she had ceased to think of her home by her mother's noble title. But it was, she knew, her home.
Even awash in fighting noises. Kelly ... Blair...things she was probably better off not knowing. Things they wouldn't tell her anyhow. They wouldn't even notice she was gone. She had to admit she preferred it that way. As long as she wasn't out till all hours of the night, where Hetty would keep track and report back to Dorian, she was all right.
Unlike Starr, she was the dependable child. The one who could be counted on.
She had no idea why she was even bothering going to Foxy Roxy's. It wasn't like Roxy's wild, rude, son was going to remember the conversation they'd had last night at Ultra-Violet.
In fact, she really didn't know why she'd remembered it herself.
Her Shirley Temple had remained untouched as Rex ushered her out the door, stopping to tell his two hapless bouncers that she wasn't to be let back in after hours under any circumstances. "Stay out," he'd added, one arm pinning her to the brick wall. He'd been close enough that she could smell his cologne. Or maybe his skin. Something spicy and warm.
He had held her there until some beautiful woman with blond hair walked by...and then he'd released her, not even bothering to glance back as he followed the older woman back inside.
She'd come back through Angel Square still thinking of River and Shannon, wondering if he'd kicked them out, too. He'd probably just pretended to be sympathetic in order to get her out of the bar as quickly as possible. He probably hadn't given thought to River at all.
The beauty salon, with its eye-gougingly bright pink interior, was empty when she opened the door. The little bell jingled, announcing her entry, and, for once, she was relieved that Roxanne didn't appear from the back room. It was still too early to face all that noise and color. Sometimes, she had to bite her tongue to keep from asking Roxy to slow down. She simply nodded along, instead, so the friendly woman wouldn't realize she only understood every fourth word.
"Don't worry," River had told her once, "Most people only get a fourth of what Roxy says. It's not just you."
She set her purse down on the counter, listening for noise from the depths of the salon. More often than not it sat closed, dark, while Roxanne worked over at the hotel. She opened up only for special customers or when Natalie could spare the hours to work a few shifts. Adriana was tempted to offer her help, too, but she knew Dorian would be absolutely horrified at the thought of it.
Just as she would be horrified at Adriana coming to meet someone like Rex.
"I didn't think you'd actually show." One of the styling chairs whirled around, and she jumped, startled. Rex was lounging in it, as plain as day.
"Madre mia! I...I didn't even see you there!" she gasped, flattening one palm over her heart to make sure it was still beating.
"There's a lot you miss," he chuckled, rising out of his careless slouch. "Being so naive and all."
"Are you always this mean?" she wondered, her jaw dropping despite her best efforts to stay poised and calm.
"Not mean...just jaded." He smirked. "And honest. That's why you're here, right? So I can impart my world weary wisdom to you? Tell you what life's all about?"
Hands on her hips, she stared at him, unwilling to allow him any more smug satisfaction at her expense. "No...I'm here to teach you a few things," she snapped, doing Dorian and Blair and Kelly proud.
He laughed, the sound heavy with sarcasm. "You? Teach me? I'd bet there isn't much to learn."
"Oh yeah?" She was less offended by the assertion, more challenged. "I bet I can name at least three things."
"At least three?" He scoffed. "You're on."
She couldn't help but grin. "Creo que no hablas espanol, muchacho."
"What?" He furrowed his brows, looking expectedly baffled.
"One," she giggled, showing him the corresponding finger. "You can't speak Spanish."
"That's cheating!" he cried, wounded. "It's obvious you'd beat me on languages, Kid!"
"Sorry, Rex. You didn't set any rules," she pointed out, impishly. The poor gringo...he had no idea.
"No wonder the Reverend's kid ran off. You're a menace!" he scowled.
He looked sullen, like a little boy. Her peals of laughter only made it worse. "Salsa," she continued. "I bet you can't salsa."
"Well...you're wrong there." And like the night before, his hand encircled her wrist. He pulled her close. And her breath caught.
Her hands automatically came up to create distance, pressing against his chest. She felt his own sharp gasp. River was skinny. Up until now, he had been the most amazing thing she'd ever touched. Even with his shirt against her palms, she could tell Rex was built like someone in a movie or a magazine. Rock solid.
He stared down at her, and she wondered how it was possible for a man to have such long eyelashes. How a man's eyes could be so dark, so deep, so beautiful. After a moment, he shook his head. "Maybe ...maybe the dancing should wait." His voice sounded tight, as if he couldn't quite speak.
He let her go, stepped back, and she wrapped her arms around herself. "Wh- what about love?" she wondered. "And River?" Wasn't that why she'd come here? To hear his arguments on the subject?
He was the one who laughed this time. "River's an idiot," he said, barely audible. "And love's a waste of time."
"I still think you're wrong," she countered. Her voice was shaky and she didn't even know why. As if she'd run for miles and miles.
"I know," he murmured, thickly. "And that's totally why you shouldn't be here."
For the second time in twenty-four hours, he kicked her out of his domain. As the door shut and the bell tinkled, she watched him back away from the glass.
She didn't know why she'd come here.
She wasn't sure she wanted to know why she was leaving.
He knocked on the gallery door, insistent. "Lindsey! Lindsey, open this door right now!" he shouted.
He'd run...he'd run from Angel Square. From Roxy's. All the way here. To the only place he could go.
"Lindsey!"
The door opened with a jerk against his knuckles. "What? Rex...what?" she demanded, irritably, pulling the ends of her robe around her. It served her right. Who slept in the middle of the day? "You're going to shout down the entire neighborhood."
"Let 'em come." He shouldered inside, pulling her close.
She was soft and sleep warm. All woman. Not a girl. When his mouth came crashing down on hers, she kissed back ferociously, all protests dying on his tongue.
He could do this to her. He could have her. She would take and take and take. She wouldn't ask questions. She didn't want answers.
She spread against the door for him, baring her throat to his kisses. Two tugs at her robe and she was naked. Her legs locked around his waist. He was inside her, driving deep, and nothing else mattered. Not money, not innocence. Nothing.
Later, when they were tired out and tangled two feet from the bed, he could almost convince himself that he hadn't wanted anything of Adriana's except her trust fund. He could almost...almost...tell himself that he'd kept his eyes on the prize.
Not her lips. Not her totally too-young lips.
He kissed Lindsey again and again just to make sure.