20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

T here were too many smells in the air, not just from the food but also from everyone in the restaurant.

Layla barely managed to focus her hearing, but trying to stop the overpowering scents was different. She couldn't pick just one out when they all blended into one horrible smell that made her nose sting and her eyes water.

Jackson led them to a table near the back and helped her and her sister into their seats before he sat down.

"We'll have something quick. I've had a long day," Jackson said.

She couldn't help noticing that he had a perfect view of the restaurant entrance while she had her back to the room. Was Jackson being thoughtful about her predicament, or was he trying to keep track of whatever he had seen in the lobby?

"Are you alright, Layla?" Brit whispered.

She gave her a bright smile again and tried to keep her head in the present. Keeping Brit from finding out the truth was her main priority now.

"Of course. This is my first time eating here; I'm just a little nervous," she lied.

"Yeah, I saw how Andrea looked at us," Britney said. "She looks at me like that every time I come down to eat. Just ignore her like I do."

"She watches you every time," Jackson asked as he picked up the menu.

The question was casual, but she sensed the weight of it in his tone. Why would Andrea be watching her sister that much? Was that the reason Jackson had panicked?

"Sometimes I wonder if she even goes home," Brit snorted, and then she seemed to remember who she was talking to because she shut down again.

"She won't bother you again," Jackson said firmly.

She remembered when he had said that about the three mean girls at the packhouse. She still didn't know if he had killed them or the men who had tried to rape her. Was that Andrea's fate?

"Are you ready to order?" Jackson asked.

She sensed the urgency in his tone. He wanted them out of there quickly. She was sure Jackson had seen Andrea many times. He was a VIP guest, so Andrea made it a point to personalise the hotel's service for people like him. She couldn't be the reason his heart had raced like that. Was there another threat, then?

"Yes," she answered as she put her menu down.

Their server appeared straight away and took their orders efficiently with a smile on her face. She had always wondered what it would be like to dine in a five-star restaurant instead of just cleaning it, but the experience was ruined by the threat hanging over her head.

"So, Britney. How are your studies going? Are you doing what we discussed?" Jackson asked as he shook his napkin and placed it on his lap while another server poured their drinks.

"Yes, sir," Brit whispered.

"What did you discuss?"

Or when? As far as she knew, this was the first time they had met since the night they had made the deal.

"I have to do well in school," Brit answered.

"And you have to stop worrying about your sister. I told you I was taking care of her," Jackson added.

And then he kept the conversation going, keeping it casual as if he was trying to make Brit feel comfortable around him. He was a brilliant conversationalist, and despite how intimidating his size was, his smiles and laughs came easily. Britney loosened up even before their meals arrived. She was sure that if she'd managed to tear her eyes from Jackson to look around the room, she would have seen that she wasn't the only one taken in by his charm.

She was almost done with her meal when she realised she hadn't once worried about the noise and smells around her. Jackson had kept her calm and focused.

"You're a very intelligent young lady, Britney. I'm sure you'll do well wherever you choose to study," Jackson said as he sat back and picked his drink up.

"It's all thanks to Layla. I didn't want to do anything like that after Mum left, but Layla forced me to," Britney said with a little smile.

"I'm sorry to bring this up, but when did your mum go to London?" Jackson asked.

She froze with the cutlery in her hands, and her gaze met Jackson's.

"How do you know where our mum went?"

She knew he had asked Dylan to find information about her, but there was no trace of her mother anywhere. She knew because she had wasted a lot of time looking until that letter had come for her father, telling him she'd left and wasn't coming back. What had Jackson found?

"Um... Didn't you mention that the other day?" Jackson asked.

Mention the woman who'd abandoned them? She thought about her a million times a day, but her name never crossed her lips.

Her anger rose, as it always did when she thought about the way Rebecca Carlisle had just disappeared from their lives. Her fingers tightened around the fork and knife in her hands.

But her anger was different this time. It was mixed with pain. In a few short months, she would abandon her child, just like her mother had.

"Shit," Jackson whispered just before he threw his napkin onto his plate and stood. "Shall we head back, ladies?"

He didn't give them much of a choice. Jackson prised the cutlery from her fingers and quickly forced her to her feet.

"Come, Britney. You can order a dessert from room service."

How the hell had he known about her mother? Was that woman living her life somewhere in London, guilt-free, as if she hadn't left a whole life behind? Did she ever return to their little backward patch of the world to see how they were? To see if her abandonment hadn't ruined them?

She was in the elevator before she knew it, pushed to the back with Jackson standing in front of her.

"Is she okay?" Brit whispered.

"I'm sorry. I know that's a sensitive topic, and I knew better than to mention it. She'll be fine, don't worry," she heard Jackson say gently.

Brit knew she was sensitive about the issue, but she was sure her observant sister realised that this wasn't her usual reaction. Her anger was bursting from her in flames she couldn't douse. She grabbed onto the railings on the back of the elevator and turned away from both of them to try to control it. To breathe through it and focus so she wouldn't say or do something stupid.

And as she did that, she saw her reflection in the mirrored walls.

Her flushed cheeks.

Her flaring nostrils.

And her eyes.

Her glowing eyes.