Page 142 of Sins (The Sins Trilogy 1)
Chapter Sixty-Five
Iris
The car Sam sent stops in front of his mansion. Damn it. I thought he’d take me to his office or a restaurant. There aren’t any witnesses or people to make Sam behave himself. I haven’t forgotten the way he tried to forcibly pack me off to Tokyo.
Apprehension creeps over me like a mist. At least I had the foresight to ask Tolyan to come get me if I didn’t return by two. But I can’t decide if he’ll actually do it or not. He’s so difficult to read. I still don’t know if he even likes me.
“Miss Iris.” Sam’s butler greets me, spine straight and chin held high. He’s quite tall, and if I tilt my head just a bit, I can look up into his huge nostrils.
“Hi, Max. Is Sam here?”
“Yes. He’s expecting you. Right this way.”
He turns smartly and leads me through the glittering halls with high ceilings covered with Cubist murals. At the end, Max steps through the French doors to the huge pool. Sam’s seated at a table near the water at the opposite end of the pool, cutting into a pork chop on his plate. He’s dressed like a British country gentleman—a starched shirt, dark brown slacks and a vest with a bow tie. A monocle and pocket watch chain hanging out of his vest would complete the look.
Max and I walk along the pool until we reach Sam’s table. “Miss Iris is here,” Max announces.
“Thank you,” Sam says pleasantly, then gestures at an empty seat opposite him. “Have a seat, Iris.”
“Sorry, but I’m only here for the check. Busy with work.”
A glimmer of smug triumph shines in his eyes. “Not according to your boss. Elizabeth said you could take as much time as you want.”
Ah, crap.I didn’t think he’d check with her. “I’m really not hungry,” I say, refusing to take the seat.
Sam purses his mouth. “You practically quit eating after the accident. It’s changed you.”
I look away. This is such a waste of time, but he’s not going to hand over the check until he’s satisfied. “Why are you doing this?” I ask, still standing.
“I should’ve never let you come back to L.A. Look, if you don’t like Tokyo, go to Madrid. It’s beautiful. Healing.”
I face him again. “I don’t need Madrid. I’ve already made progress since coming back, and it hasn’t even been three weeks.”
“Progress? How?”
“I’ve regained some more memories, which is more than I can say about the last thirty-six-plus months on the road, when I didn’t remember anything new.”
Sam squints. “Which memories, exactly?”
“Someone named Tatiana.” I throw that in his face with satisfaction. “Some girl I used to go to school with. An Asian girl.”
“Name?”
“I don’t know.”
Sam considers. “That’s it?”
“Yes.”
Leaning back in his seat, he gives me a pitying smile. “For all we know, you could be remembering them because of your trips. Besides, Tatiana? Who is she? And the girl? You don’t even know her name. Do you know how many Asians there are in the country?”
I bite my lower lip, hating that he’s making my progress sound small and insignificant. Like I’m stupid for ever having been excited about it.
Sam sobers. “Iris, listen. I’m asking you to leave for your safety. Anthony has enemies. You’ll become a target if you stay with him.”
Where the heck is this coming from? “Like more Audrey Duffs and wine tossed in my face?” I have no idea what’s making him say this nonsense, and the only thing that could’ve triggered it is that date gone bad. “I think I can han—”
“No! Nothing that juvenile. They will want you gone.”
