One Black Rose Page 8

  Chapter Eight

  After Samuel left, we spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out. Carley and Nick didn't ask me what had happened with Samuel and I didn't say anything. I hoped that our chat would be the end of the weirdness between us, and definitely the end of any weirdness between his family and me. I also hoped that once I talked to Holt tonight at dinner, he and I could get back to normal and this whole nasty episode of people chasing after me in a car late at night could be forgotten.

  Besides, I didn't think Carley had been completely right that afternoon. I didn't think Holt had any trouble talking about his feelings for me; that wasn't his problem. But he definitely had a problem talking about something, and that's what I wanted to know. What wasn't he telling me?

  Before Holt came to pick me up, I agreed with Carley and Nick to meet them at UP UP and Away after dinner for the evening concert. While Nick went home to get ready, Carley took a nap, which left me alone in front of the television.

  The TV was on, but I was too preoccupied to pay any attention to what I was watching; I had to think through the situation with Holt and everything that had happened. Unfortunately, my mind kept going to Samuel, too. I was disturbed that I felt attracted to him, despite the fact that my very being seemed to repel him. I had never been repulsive to anyone before, and I didn't like it. But Holt's liking me made it easier for me to ignore Samuel. Somehow I'd felt instantly comfortable with Holt, like I'd always known him. There had never been that awkward bit where you aren't sure if you're going to get along with the other person or have to spend time getting to know each other. With Holt it was easy and fun. I had liked him instantly, and the time I spent with him had only confirmed that I would continue to like him.

  But apparently it wasn't that simple. Holt was hiding something, and it seemed like the Cheshires were as well, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was. When I let my imagination wander I wondered if they were opposing mob families or something, but I knew that was silly. Plus, it didn't explain the way flowers reacted to Holt or why the air always felt a little colder when Samuel was in the room.

  Finally, half an hour before Holt was supposed to arrive, I went up to my room and changed clothes. It was too cold out for a summer dress, so I opted for jeans and a white long-sleeved t-shirt. I also tried to do something with my brown hair, but in the end I just combed it out and put some stuff in it to keep the frizz to a minimum. After I'd finished with my makeup, I went back downstairs to wait for Holt to pick me up. He was on time, which didn't surprise me at all. He was always on time. I imagined him dating a girl who was always a half hour late, but I suspected he would still get there on time. If he said he'd be there at a certain time, then he would be. If he said he'd do something then he did it. I really liked that about him.

  I grabbed my blue rain jacket and dashed outside to meet him. Even though I'd rushed to his car, he still managed to open the door of the silver BMW for me as I got in.

  He smiled at me and asked, "How are you?" When he started the car I heard soft jazz playing on the radio, but I didn't know the song. It was a nice contrast to the rain gently hitting against the windows.

  He was wearing a blue-collared shirt under a rain jacket, and jeans. I realized I was staring. "Sorry, what?" He pretended not to notice my lapse and said again, "How are you?"

  "Good," I said. "Hungry."

  "Perfect," he said. "I thought we'd go to that Italian place I pointed out."

  "That'd be great," I said.

  The place he took me to was a couple of towns over. Luckily there was parking right in front of the restaurant, so we didn't get too soaked running inside. The place was small, with an old Tuscany feel. The walls were a creamy off-white and looked a bit like stones. The white tablecloths complemented the wood furniture and the hanging light over each table gave the place a cozy feel. Since it was such bad weather, there were only two other tables filled and we had our pick of seats.

  I guess I was taking too long to choose where to sit, because I heard the blond waitress passing us mutter, "Just sit somewhere."

  I hoped she wasn't our waitress. The way she almost threw the food down at another table made it pretty clear she wasn't in a good mood.

  I chose a table by the bank of windows so we could watch the rain coming down. "This is nice," I said as Holt helped me into my chair.

  Unfortunately, the blond waitress came over and said, "I'm Olivia. Don't say anything bad about me to the manager or I'll make sure your food comes out cold. Here are menus." She tossed two on the table and stalked away.

  Yikes, I thought.

  Holt raised his eyebrows at me a little but didn't comment. I picked up a menu and looked it over. "So, you didn't bring me here for the service?" I asked.

  After we'd looked at the menus in silence for a minute or two, I asked Holt what he was going to order.

  "I don't know," he said. "Pasta, probably."

  "I'm going to get pasta too," I said, "since it's an Italian place."

  It took Olivia several minutes to come back. I had the feeling she was trying to wait us out. If she didn't come back for long enough, maybe we would leave, but Holt and I were having fun chatting, so that wasn't going to happen. When she did finally come back she just stood there, glaring at both of us without offering to take our orders. Holt ordered and she gave a snort of derision. When I ordered, her comment was, "Watch yourself. He's not going to marry you if he has to feed you all the time, particularly not someone that gorgeous." She said it low and into my ear.

  I blushed. "I'll have my own job and feed myself, thanks anyway." She sniffed and walked away.

  "You plan to work once you're married?" Holt asked.

  I looked up at him, flustered. I was so focused on the bitchy waitress that I hadn't realized she'd just brought up my marrying Holt and he had heard us. I could feel my face turning bright red yet again.

  "She was just in a bad mood," I muttered. "I wanted to tell her off."

  "Okay," he said, nodding, "but have you thought about marriage?"

  To my shock he sounded serious. "To you?" I blurted out. Instead of acting totally horrified, like every other guy I know would have at the mention of marriage on the first real date, he just smiled.

  "Sure, to me. Would you?" He didn't say "marry me." He stopped before he got there, as if those words carried some secret power.

  I had no idea what to say. Luckily, at that moment Olivia brought us each a water. But she was so busy trying to act like we weren't actually there that she spilled Holt's all over the table.

  "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, dashing off to get something to wipe up the mess with. I couldn't tell if she meant her apology or not.

  Holt was forced to stand up to avoid the water that was seeping toward him, so I did the same. It took Olivia a minute to come back; it looked like she was getting a talking to from the manager. When she finally returned, she was almost in tears, but maybe also a little angrier as well.

  She dropped the cloth on the table and started scrubbing furiously. Holt watched her for a moment, excused himself, and vanished out the front door before I even realized he was gone. I stood there awkwardly watching Olivia scrub while I had a momentary worry that he was just going to leave me there, because - I assumed - he didn't actually want to talk about us marrying (what nonsense anyway). But he came right back inside. In his hand were several small flowers. I recognized the small bunch as forget-me-nots, very tiny with light blue petals and yellow centers. I remembered seeing some outside as we came in. I was really proud of myself for actually knowing the name of a flower.

  I raised my eyebrows. What was he doing bringing me flowers right now?

  But when he got to the table he walked right past me. The flowers weren't for me. Instead, he went over to Olivia, who was still cleaning our table, and tapped her on the shoulder.

  She turned around and started to snap something at him, but saw the flowers and instantly softened. "Sorry, how can I
help you?" she asked, her voice suddenly as smooth as honey.

  What's going on? I wondered.

  He presented her with the flowers and a dazzling smile lit her face. She looked at them with ecstasy, touched them reverently, and said, "Oh, no. I couldn't."

  "Sure you can," he said. He was smiling.

  Gingerly, as if they were as breakable as glass, she took the forget-me-nots from him. As she inhaled the sweet scent, her face went from drawn and pale to fuller, with more color. She didn't even seem to realize it.

  WHAT was going on?

  I stared back and forth from Holt to Olivia, but they acted as if I weren't there.

  "Thank you," Olivia said, her cheeks turning even pinker as she smiled.

  "I would tell you to just sit somewhere else, but I know how much you wanted to sit here," she gushed to me, still holding the flowers. "I'll have it clean in just a second."

  "Yeah, um, sure," I said. I really would have been fine at any table.

  Once Olivia had finished mopping everything up, Holt pulled my chair out for me. After she had re-set the table and poured us fresh glasses of water she went away, saying she'd check on the food. The flowers were stuck in the front of her apron.

  "What was that about?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and sitting back in my chair. I felt like I always asked him a bunch of questions, but tonight I was determined to get some answers.

  Holt shrugged. "I just wanted to cheer her up. Seemed like she was having a hard day."

  I wanted to say something else, but I didn't know what. Was I jealous, because he'd never given me flowers? I didn't think so. He hadn't flirted with her. I probably would have been jealous if I thought he was doing that. Plus, since he was on a date, or whatever this was, with me, I probably would have been offended or pissed as well. It was just one more odd thing that had happened while I was with Holt.

  After our food came (with a huge bright smile and a "let me know if you need anything else at all" from Olivia), I thought it was about time I asked Holt some more questions. Personal questions.

  "So how do you know Casey and Susan?" I was referring to the two girls I had seen him with, girls he clearly wasn't related to, who stayed at his house. I expected him to look relieved that I wasn't bringing up last night - a subject he had avoided all evening - but instead he took my question at face value.

  "Our parents are old friends, basically. I have two younger brothers and a younger sister who's away at camp this summer, but she dates Casey's younger brother, so our families see a lot of each other."

  "How do you feel about your sister dating?" I asked, amused at the thought of him as an older brother. I didn't have an older brother, but I'd heard that they were usually overprotective and hated the guys their sisters dated.

  "I told her she wasn't allowed to hold hands until she was eighteen, but I'm pretty sure she ignores what I tell her," he said, grinning.

  "Yeah, telling people what to do is tricky," I said, my second not so subtle reference to last night.

  "He's good to her, though," said Holt. "I don't think she would tolerate anything less."

  "What about your brothers?" I asked.

  "They're in Castleton for the summer. You'll meet them when you come to the Solstice Party." He mentioned my coming to the Solstice Party so casually that I almost missed it.

  "But I'm not from Castleton, and Carley said she wasn't sure about just bringing people," I stammered. He hadn't officially invited me. Instead he had just assumed I was coming. I was completely excited and flattered, but also worried that he had made a mistake and had only said I was coming because he had assumed that Carley was bringing me, not because he actually wanted me there.

  He waved my comment off.

  "I told my mom to send an invitation for you to Carley's house. It should get there in a couple of days. Of course you're invited," he said, giving me a big smile. "It wouldn't be any fun without you."

  I blushed. Against my leg I felt a vibration and realized that I'd never turned off my phone. I ignored it, but it vibrated again and Holt heard it.

  "Aren't you at least going to see who it is?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  "I probably should," I said reluctantly. I had more questions for Holt and I was reluctant to get sidetracked.

  I checked the caller ID and felt my stomach twist. It was my mother. We hadn't talked much since I'd gotten to Carley's. I had wanted to give her and my dad some alone time, and I realized now that I'd been really busy with everything going on in Castleton.

  "It's my mom," I told Holt. "If I don't answer she'll probably be mad or think something unspeakably awful has happened to me." Rolling my eyes, I excused myself.

  "Hi, Mom," I said, having made my way to the entryway of the restaurant.

  "Hi, honey," my mom bubbled out. I knew instantly that something was wrong. When she was too chipper she'd usually just had a fight with my dad. "How is everything there? Did you find a job? Are you being helpful to Carley to thank her parents for having you?" my mom asked. Already she'd started.

  "I'm working with Carley at the coffee shop and yes, I guess so," I said, grudgingly. I avoided the question about Carley's parents.

  "That's great," she said. "Your father and I might come to visit at some point. We miss you here."

  "You might come?" I asked. "When?"

  "Oh, not until later in the summer," she said. "But we miss you."

  "I miss you and Dad too," I said. Talking to my mom always made me homesick, even though home would have been boring this summer.

  "I hope you're staying out of trouble. Not taking up with any boys or anything. You're a bit too young," said my mom worriedly.

  "Mom, I'm sixteen," I groaned. She was never going to let me grow up. "But no, no boys." Technically it was true.

  "I know, but your dad and I think . . ." She didn't get to finish that, because I cut her off with, "Mom, you and dad worry about your own problems. I'm fine here."

  There was silence on the other end of the line for so long that I thought she'd hung up, but she only said, "Alright, well, I should probably let you go. I'll talk to you soon."

  I said the same. Mom was just too busy and too stressed about dad to understand what was going on with me. Sometimes I felt like she treated me as if I were still in elementary school or something.

  After we hung up I went back to my seat and apologized to Holt.

  "Is everything alright?" he asked, frowning.

  "Just great," I muttered. Recognizing that I really didn't want to talk about it, Holt changed the subject.

  The rest of the dinner was a lot of fun. We chatted about movies and music, and it turned out that he knew a lot more about filmmaking than I did. I asked him how and he just shrugged, saying he'd picked it up here and there.

  My apprehensions about everything odd that was happening evaporated as I got lost in the conversation. We were interrupted only by Olivia, who was the most attentive waitress ever. She was always within view and always smiling. The flowers never left her apron.

  When we were both finished with our food, I was full and happy. "That was really good," I said, rubbing my tummy.

  We were just getting up to leave when a blast of cold air whooshed over my neck. It was a familiar kind of cold. I looked to the door. Coming in were Samuel and four other guys, none of whom I recognized, but they looked a lot like Samuel. Maybe more cousins, with dark hair and thin strong builds. I felt Holt tense next to me.

  Ignoring Holt, I gave Samuel a wave. Idiot, I thought to myself. He'd rather pretend he doesn't know me. I wished I could shake the feeling that I was attracted to him; he wasn't even nice, after all. As usual he didn't smile back, but since there was no avoiding each other we met in the middle of the restaurant. I could see anger flashing in his eyes. I could tell that underneath the cool exterior, Samuel had a temper.

  "Holt, how are you?" asked one of the guys. He had bright blue eyes and a lip ring.

  "Good," sai
d Holt. He still stood casually, but I had the feeling he was bracing for an attack.

  Samuel made no move to introduce us to his friends.

  "Are you? Do you want to stay that way?" asked Lip Ring. It was an obvious threat, and right now it was five against one.

  "Hey," said Samuel, putting a hand on Lip Ring's shoulder. "Not now." He looked meaningfully at me. Lip Ring seemed to notice me for the first time; he gave the tiniest of starts. The other three guys shifted uncomfortably, but they were waiting for Samuel to give them some direction on what to do next.

  "Autumn, it's nice to see you again today. How are you?" Was I crazy, or had Samuel thrown the word "again" in Holt's face?

  "I'm good," I said. I shifted from one foot to the other. Once again I could tell there was something going on here, some old feud, that I knew nothing about. Castleton was definitely more exciting than home.

  "We should get to our dinner," said Samuel. He had noticed that he was making me uncomfortable. His cousins were the ones, after all, who had chased after me the night before. And now here we were, surrounded by more of them.

  "Yeah, sure," I said. I knew I had to get Holt out of the situation, so I said, "Have a good night." I almost had to push Holt away from the group.

  "Let's go," I hissed. His face, which had been tight a second ago, relaxed a fraction. Without looking back, he led me out of the restaurant.

  I wanted to ask him what had just happened, but he looked too angry. Instead I sat in the front seat and seethed. I was tired of not knowing what was going on. When we got back to Carley's, Nick's car wasn't in the driveway as I had expected it to be, but there was an upstairs light on, which meant that Carley was still awake. The rain had gone from a downpour to a light drizzle and I was able to get to the porch without getting drenched. Holt followed me, looking uneasy.

  "I suppose you aren't going to tell me what that was about either?" I asked reproachfully. I stood on the porch with my arms crossed against the cold.

  "You don't like it when guys fight over you?" Holt was trying for lightness.

  "I like it when I know what's going on," I said. "Goodnight." I started to turn around in a huff.

  "Look, Autumn, I'm sorry, but it might be better if I didn't see you for a little while. Just until things cool down."

  That stopped me in my tracks.

  "I'm sorry," he said. His head hung low and his shoulders hunched forward. I felt like I had been struck in the face. I stared mutely at him for a minute, then nodded and went inside. It was too much for one night, seeing Samuel, my mom calling, Holt giving flowers to the waitress and then another almost fight. I couldn't control my parents, or know what was going on with them, but I wished I could at least control stuff in my own life. Something was wrong, and now Holt didn't want to see me. I went to bed feeling like I'd been punched in the stomach.