Page 15 of The Knight (Endgame 2)
“The worst part is that I believe you.”
“I gave your landlord a bag of peanuts from the plane and a crisp Benjamin in exchange for a key. He seemed chuffed. I don’t think he expected that much, really.”
Based on the economics of the area I suspect he can buy more than one blowjob with a hundred dollars. Maybe from my neighbor Chastity. “You really shouldn’t be here. This area has, oh, I don’t know, a hundred percent crime rate. Your stepbrother would lose his shit if he found out.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” she says cheerfully. “Besides, you’re here. How bad can it be?”
In response I double-check that the door is locked and close the extra security latch. “He really gave you a key? That’s not very reassuring.”
“I’d sell you out for a crisp Benjamin,” she says, hopping on the bed.
I roll my eyes. “Okay, but you’re not staying here. You’re going to call a cab and get a room at the Ritz or something.”
“Please, a cab is more dangerous than staying here. Especially in this part of town. Come on. We can order a pizza and pretend to be camping.”
“I’m pretty sure you can’t use a motel room for that. Or pizza delivery.”
She grins. “And you can tell me ghost stories. About the ghost of your virginity.”
I make a face at her. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“Fine, then you can tell me about the limo that dropped you off.”
“Is there any gossip you don’t know?”
“I hope not.”
I settle into the chair where I shared kolaches with Will. “Did you see a guy by my door when you came in?”
“Big and shaggy, like the abominable snowman?”
“He is not,” I say, affronted. “The woolly mammoth, maybe.”
“Is that really less insulting?” she asks dubiously. “Yeah, the hotel guy ran him off. Said he’d call the cops. The homeless guy cussed him out but left.”
Damn. “Okay.”
“A new love interest?”
“Please. The word new implies there were any before.”
“Gabriel Miller seems to be taking up a lot of your attention lately.”
“He’s a horrible person.” I’m not so sure that’s true anymore. What if letting me leave early was a kindness? What if he really is trying to help me get my mother’s house back?
Her expression turns sly. “You can still want a horrible person.”
I crumple up a coarse napkin and throw it at her. “I don’t, okay? That’s crazy.”
“She doth protest,” she says, throwing it back. “And anyway I didn’t mean him. I meant Justin. Cute guy. Captain of the rowing team. Used to be your fiancé. Am I ringing any bells?”
“That was over the second he broke up with me.”
“He doesn’t think so. He’s on some kind of quest to save you.”
That sounds ominous. “I’m serious. We’re done. I could never trust someone who left me when I needed him most. He abandoned me because my family didn’t have money anymore. Because his daddy told him to. How messed up is that?”
“You don’t believe in second chances?”
I need a second chance myself too much to say no. “This is a heavy conversation to have without alcohol.”
She reaches into her bag and pulls out a two-liter of soda and a bottle of coconut rum. “So prepared. Now let’s build a fire and roast some marshmallows. I want to hear everything.”Chapter NineI don’t tell her everything. Though it doesn’t have to do with being a lady. I’m pretty sure I gave up any rights to the term when I sold my virginity to a room full of cigar-smoking, brandy-drinking men.
But I tell her enough to hear her opinion on the house auction.
“I think he’s sincere,” she decides. “He had a crisis of conscience when he fucked you, and now he’s trying to make it up to you by giving you what you lost.”
“My virginity?”
She giggles. “Would you want that back?”
“God no. Totally useless. The only thing that ever got me was a million dollars.”
Halfway through the coconut rum, both of us find that hilarious. We drink the rest of it over a pepperoni pizza while she tells me about Justin’s fall from grace. He was Tanglewood’s golden boy. The son of a state senator, poised to follow in his footsteps.
And in another lifetime, my fiancé.
I’m not sure which hurt more, the fact that he broke off our engagement or that he’d done it over the phone. When he heard about the auction, when he heard about Gabriel Miller, he’d shown up at Gabriel’s estate. It was some half-cocked rescue mission, his figurative armor still shiny from disuse. He decided to be my knight on a whim—and he abandoned me to my fate the same way.
“Are you sure a million dollars will be enough?” she asks.
“No, but I’m crossing my fingers. And toes. And everything.”
“I’ll cross mine too.”
“The house is worth a lot more, but Charlotte said the auctions usually go for less than market value. I’m hoping this one will be even less than that, since it belonged to the St. James family. History matters for houses like this, and no one even takes our calls, much less wants our house.”
