I was sitting a foot apart from Eloise on a silver velvet chaise longue and we’d managed nothing but polite conversation since we’d arrived on Newbury Street that morning.
“I think this might be the one, ladies,” the sales assistant, Kelly, said as she appeared out of the dressing room.
Hayley slowly glided out behind her, and I felt Eloise still beside me.
The gown was formfitting, hugging Hayley’s figure until her calves, where it flared out into a slight fishtail and train. Its ivory satin was overlaid with lace that had a shimmer through it. It was sleeveless with wide scalloped lace straps and a demure neckline. But when she turned to step up onto the platform to look at the dress in the mirror, I saw the bodice was backless, the lace rejoining in a row of pearl buttons from the small of her back down over her bottom.
It was classic but hot, too.
She looked amazing.
I watched as Hayley’s eyes lit up as she took in her reflection, turning this way and that to see the dress at every angle.
For once she was speechless.
Looking up at her, seeing how happy she was, I felt this weird mix of resentment and hope. I was still mad at Hayley for uprooting my life, for bringing me into a family that was as guarded as I was, making it impossible to truly know them or understand their motives. I resented her for putting her happiness before mine. But I found myself, day by day, beginning to wonder what life would be like if this thing with her and Theo was real and permanent. I wanted to believe that Hayley could grow up, stand still with someone and perhaps eventually, one day in the very distant future, earn my trust.
I had a safe place for myself back in Arroyo Grande where I didn’t need Hayley to provide me with that safety or stability. Yet, now that my life was all over the place, I found I did need that from her. And to get that from her I needed her to be happy.
And that made me resent her all over again. Resentment, hope, resentment.
Vicious circle.
“It’s perfect, Hayley,” Eloise said, her expression soft and her tone the warmest I’d ever heard it.
She sensed me looking at her and raised an eyebrow.
I shrugged at the unasked question.
She sighed, seeming to understand what I wasn’t saying. “I want my father to be happy,” she whispered. “Hayley makes him happy. She’ll make him even happier in that dress. That’s all that matters.”
For not the first time I found myself envious of Eloise. She loved her father so much.
What must it be like to want your parents’ happiness instead of resenting them for it?
What kind of person had my parents turned me into?
I looked up at Hayley, my chest aching.
Her eyes met mine in the mirror and there was something like desperation in hers. Desperation for what, though? For my love? My acceptance? My trust? Did she genuinely want that from me? Was it not just that she felt guilty and ashamed?
I didn’t know. But I did know I didn’t want to be the kind of person who didn’t want happiness for the people in my life.
“What do you think, India?” Hayley asked, her dark eyes pleading.
And for the first time since we’d been reunited five years ago, I gave her what she wanted. “I think Eloise is right. It’s absolutely perfect. You look beautiful.”
Her whole face lit up. “You really think so?”
I felt a sudden sting in my eyes, this overwhelming need to cry taking hold of me. “Yeah.” I nodded quickly and looked away.
The sales assistant stepped forward to talk to Hayley about the dress, and I excused myself to use the bathroom, hearing the words “Carolina Herrera” and something about ten thousand dollars. I disappeared into the ladies’ restroom and hurried over to the sinks, my chest tight, my skin hot. Splashing cold water up onto my face, I was struck by my expression. It was that of a trapped animal.
My fingers bit into the cold ceramic of the sink.
“You can’t trust her,” I reminded myself.
But I’m tired of being alone.
“I know,” I whispered.
I was. I’d never felt more alone. I could handle it in Arroyo Grande because I had Anna and school but here I didn’t have any of that. The only familiar thing I had was Hayley, who wanted me to trust her.
Maybe I should. It’s exhausting not trusting anyone while I’m all alone. The dress. The wedding. Eloise. Theo. Maybe we really could be a family.
But what if I gave in and she hurt me, they hurt me?
Suddenly, without wanting to, I saw my father’s face in my mind.
I pushed away from the sink, my resolve returning.
I just needed to handle being alone for a little while longer.
CHAPTER 9
THE CAB PULLED up to the Rochester mansion and I felt that unwanted flurry of butterflies in my stomach again. I’d paid the driver the small fortune it cost me to get out to Dover, money I would have blanched at paying not too long ago, and got out of the cab just as the mansion’s door opened.
Finn stood in the doorway to his home, his hands in his pockets. His dark eyes burned right through me.
Sucking in a huge breath, I shifted my backpack on my shoulder and made my way toward him. The last couple of days at school had been interesting, to say the least. While Eloise’s friends warmed up to me—even Bryce, who seemed to enjoy a little sarcastic banter with me—Eloise and Finn remained quiet and distant with me. Finn more so than Elle. In fact, I would go so far as to say he was almost cold.
At the Thursday meeting of the Chronicle he’d appeared to give us his photographs for the next morning’s issue and then he was gone without a word. At Friday’s meeting he’d sat around the table with us as we discussed the next issue and he only looked at me once. I drew his attention when I brought up my problem as a book reviewer to Alana.
“I’m sorry...” She’d raised an eyebrow at me. “A problem? Already?”
I ignored the gibe and the very subtle warning in her eyes that suggested as a newbie I should keep my trap shut. The problem was I may be a newbie but I was the Ethics Maven so my trap would be remaining firmly open. But my problem wasn’t regarding anyone else’s articles.
“You said I have to review the number one on the New York Times bestseller list every week. What do I do when a book stays at number one for more than one week?”
Our editor had stared at me while everyone tried not to look openly amused at the fact that their efficient leader had not thought something through.
Alana had shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I may have overlooked that particular possibility. Well, if that occurs you can pick a book from the top five.”
“Thank you. Also, what if the number one bestseller isn’t appropriate. Say, an erotica novel?”
In answer I received a pointed scowl. “Again, choose a book from within the top five or twenty, if you have to, that is appropriate.” Now shut up, her eyes seemed to say.
“Don’t worry about it.” Jasper, who had insisted on sitting next to me, leaned in, putting his arm around my chair back. “She’s like that with everyone.”
His lips touched my ear, and I jerked back from him, immediately searching out Finn.
He was watching me with Jasper, this time his expression blank. Like he could give a damn some guy was being a jackhole to me.
It was fair to say that I was not looking forward to our study session together.
As I approached, Finn stepped to the side to let me into his home.
“Hi,” I said, not able to meet his eyes.
“Hey. You got a cab?”
I finally looked up at him as I moved into the grand hallway. “Yeah.”
“I thought Gil was bringing you. I would have picked you up if I’d known.”
“It’s fine.” I shrugged, not sure what to do with his supposed chivalry after the last few days of nothing from him.
“I’ll give you a ride home when we’re finished.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I don’t. But I will.” His tone brooked no argument.
“Finn, you have a guest?”
I whirled around and came face-to-face with an older version of Finn. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood in the hall between the twin staircase, staring at me sternly. Finn had his facial features but where his eyes were deep and dark, this man’s were steel gray and very cold.
I shivered, getting an instant vibe off the guy that I didn’t like. Not. At. All.
“Sir, this is my classmate and Eloise’s soon-to-be stepsister, India Maxwell. India, this is my father.” Finn closed in on me, his hand touching my lower back as he stood so near our sides brushed against one another.
I hid my surprise, peeking up at Finn from beneath my lashes. I could feel how rigid his whole body was, and I got the distinct impression that his sudden touchy-feeliness was born out of protectiveness.
I looked up at his father, wary.
He marched over to me, his features like granite as he held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Maxwell.”
I took his hand out of politeness.
“I hope you’re settling in nicely.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“And what are you doing here today?”
I knew he didn’t actually care what I was doing at his home. All he cared about was that he didn’t like it. His polite manners couldn’t hide his distaste. “Finn and I have a history presentation to work on.”
“And we need to get on with it. Excuse us.” Finn put pressure on my back, nudging me forward. I took his lead, moving around his father.
“Where are you working on it?” his father called after us.
Finn stopped. “The TV room. We won’t disturb you there.”
“Leave the door open,” his father ordered.
I stiffened at the implication that we might get up to no good with it shut. My blood turned hot. I bet he didn’t imply that kind of behavior around blue-blooded girls.
Rochester was a judgmental asshole.
“Yes, sir,” Finn replied, the words tight with annoyance.
We walked toward the TV room we’d worked in on Tuesday and Finn didn’t offer up an explanation for his father or his behavior around his father. He was brittle around Mr. Rochester and as soon as we got out of his presence Finn’s whole body relaxed.
As for me, my stomach was churning. There was something in the atmosphere, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on...but it made me more than uneasy.
“Drinks, snacks?” Finn said as we strode into the room.
“Sure,” I mumbled, my mind whirring as I tried to work out what the hell it was I was feeling.
“I’ll be right back.”
Not too long later Finn returned with soda and Toaster Strudel and placed them on the table. My eyes flicked to the door. He hadn’t left it open.
When I turned to him I saw he’d been watching me and he gave me this sad, defiant little smirk.
It made me smile back and to my surprise his whole face softened for a split second.
“Your father...” I said as he took the seat beside me. “He’s...”
“A dick,” Finn supplied. “My father’s a dick.”
I gave a huff of surprised laughter and Finn looked at me, smiling. I grinned back. “Yeah, he kind of is.”
He chuckled and pulled his laptop out onto the table. “What about your father?”
Little bitch isn’t getting a thing until I say so.
Open your eyes, Trash.
I pushed my father’s voice out of my head and slipped my notes out of my backpack.
“Sorry,” Finn said at my silence. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s okay.” I gave him a reassuring smile.
We were silent for a moment, and then I found myself offering, “My dad was a dick, too.”
Our eyes locked, and for a tiny split second I didn’t feel so alone anymore.
Finn looked away first, clearing his throat. “We should get started.”
Yes, we should, I thought, determinedly focusing on my notebook.
Like before, we got on easily as a team, time flying by as we worked out the first half of the presentation. After an hour, Finn sat back in his chair and rolled his neck.
“Break?” I said.
He nodded. “Just five minutes of not looking at the screen would be good.”
“Sure.”
Silence fell between us.
“So...” Finn said as the silence became awkward. “I want to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For being...a little off with you.”
I studied his profile, waiting for him to look at me.
Finally he did.
His apologetic expression was sincere, and he also looked a little lost. I didn’t understand why, but I also didn’t like that, for whatever reason, he might feel lost. So I found myself saying, “You’re forgiven.”
Tension seemed to leave him. “I know you weren’t flirting with Jasper at my race, either. Or ever.”
“No, I definitely wasn’t.”
He looked around the room, shifting in his seat. He cleared his throat again. “So...did you leave a boyfriend back in California?”
His question made my pulse speed up. “Jay... Jay wasn’t really my boyfriend.”
“But you dated?” His eyes snapped back to my face.
“We hung out.” I gave him a rueful smile. “I don’t really date. I’m not big on commitment. I mean, you and Eloise...two years... That’s a little scary.”
Finn’s eyebrows rose. “Did Jay know you didn’t date?”
I snorted. “Yes.”
“And he was okay with that?”
“Yeah.”
He shook his head, his eyes roaming over my face in a way that only increased my pulse rate. “I don’t believe that.”
I wanted to ask him what he meant but all of a sudden he closed down, like he’d said too much or something.
“We should get back to work.” He pushed his chair back in contradiction to his words. “I’m just going to get more soda.”
The door slammed shut behind him before I could say anything, and it occurred to me as I sat there that I really needed to pee. If Finn came back with more soda my problem was only going to get worse.
There had to be a bathroom nearby in a house this size.
As quietly as possible, not wanting to seem like a snoop, I left the room and began my search.
When I heard Finn in a room up ahead I grew still.
And then I heard his father’s raised voice and my good manners urged me to turn back. And I was about to when I heard Finn say, “For the third time, we’re just working on a school project.”
I stiffened, my breath catching as I realized they were talking about me, and I crept even closer, peeking through the crack in the door. It looked like they were in an office. Finn’s dad’s office. I watched Mr. Rochester stride around his desk to stand face-to-face with his son. How did I keep ending up in these situations? I was turning into a creepy serial eavesdropper!
Finn held himself rigid but didn’t back away, even as his father got obnoxiously in his face. There was something hostile in Mr. Rochester’s body language that I did not like one bit and any thoughts of turning away were stifled.
“I do not want her to return to this house again, do you understand me?”
Finn scowled at him. “She’s my friend.”
Surprise shot through me at that. Finn thought of me
as his friend?
My belly fluttered in delight.
His father sneered. “Friend. Oh, yes, I’m sure your feelings for a girl like that are purely platonic. I saw the way you touched her earlier.” He took another step forward, his nose almost touching his son’s. “A little protective, are we? Use her if you must, but be discreet so Eloise doesn’t find out. When you’re finished, you make sure there are no complications. My son does not date trash.”
I flinched in hurt before bristling with indignation.
Finn’s face flushed. “India isn’t trash. Don’t talk about her like that.”
There was a blur of movement and I blinked, heart slamming in my chest, as Finn’s father grabbed him by his collar, his face red with fury.
Finn shoved off his father’s hands and broke free, pushing the older man back. He shrugged down his shirt, glaring hatred at him. “Let’s not forget I’m not a little boy anymore. I hit back now.”
Rochester’s nostrils flared with impotent rage and he raised a shaky hand at his son. “Watch your step, young man. Your future is in my hands. Your inheritance is in my hands. College, everything! You want that future, you listen to me. Eloise is a Fairweather. You will not jeopardize your relationship with her for a girl from a questionable background.”
I tiptoed back, the blood rushing in my ears as I escaped quietly down the hallway. I found a bathroom in the opposite direction and rushed to lock myself inside.
I couldn’t seem to catch my breath.
“Let’s not forget I’m not a little boy anymore. I hit back now.”
I squeezed my eyes closed, the pressure on my chest increasing.
Now I knew. I knew what the uneasiness I was feeling earlier was from. It was familiarity. Finn’s brittle behavior around his dad, the coldness in his father’s eyes, their interactions with one another...it reminded me of me and my own dad. It reminded me of how tense I’d been around my father because every second in his presence was a second he might attack.
Finn’s father abused him.
He was always ready, always on the defensive, because he lived in a war zone, and I knew what that felt like. Whether it was his fist in my face or starving me for days, I was once a prisoner of war in my father’s house.