Page 41 of The Other Side
“I gotta go.” I scrambled to grab my bag and coat. “I’ll see you tomorrow; thanks, Jolene!” I shouted, already halfway up the stairs.
I booked it across the courtyard to the carriage house, thundering up the three flights of stairs and dumping my things on the floor, just inside the door, in a heap before launching myself up the trap door to the lounge.
The most recent yearbook in the lounge was 1988, and sitting neatly on the shelf right before it was the one from 1987.
Plucking it from the bookcase, I immediately settled at the study table and flipped to the graduate mugshots. And there I found her: Cindy Harper.
Cindy was beautiful, despite the big eighties hair and bright blue eyeshadow. The makeup perfectly emphasized her striking eyes—the same blue-grey eyes that belonged to my nemesis, Chance Harper.
I flipped to the index to see where else she appeared in the book, only to find out that she had been voted Prom Queen that year, with her high school beau, Thomas Roberts, voted as Prom King. The two had also been voted “Best Couple” in the superlatives.
Thomas also looked vaguely familiar, which might have been because Chance clearly shared some of his features as well. But after staring at their posed prom picture for longer than I cared to admit, it hit me.
Chance’s father wastheThomas Roberts, multi-gajillionaire business mogul, and in recent years, a congressman. He’d gained his fame in the late nineties, being one of the few who had seen the dot-com bubble burst coming and making sure he’d profit off the crash. And then he had repeated the same foresight and success just before the 2008 housing crash and subsequent recession.
“Unbelievable…” I muttered to myself.
“What is?” Chance asked from behind me.
I slammed the book closed and covered it with a research paper I’d left on the table over the weekend.
“Nothing,” I squeaked.
Chance’s eyebrows raised, immediately recognizing I was up to something.
As usual, he was looking rather dashing in a navy blue sweater and grey slacks, along with a pair of shiny black wingtips. Taking the brief moment to assess him caused a flash of desire to minglewith the fear of being discovered, while I worked to expose him and his true identity.
The anger and resentment that no matter what he did, no matter how mad he made me, no matter what secrets he was keeping from me, I still wanted him, continued to bubble beneath the surface, threatening to explode at any moment.
And who knew how that explosion would manifest? I was just as likely to shove him out the window as I was to climb on top of him.
“I brought you dinner.” He produced two takeout containers from the dining hall and set them on the table.
Chef Lenny and I were going to have a talk about consorting with the enemy. And also, why the hell had he gone and done something so thoughtful? He made me feel like a monster…a lonely, desperate monster.
“You didn’t have to do that.” I tried not to smell the food, but my stomach betrayed me, grumbling in protest. I might have forgotten to eat lunch while going down Google rabbit holes trying to find references to Chance’s family.
“I saw you run outside like a bat out of hell when classes finished, so I figured you hadn’t eaten.” He pulled out the chair next to me.
Jolene’s bat sweater flashed in my mind, and a giggle erupted from my lips.
Chance cocked his head, amused by my demeanor. “What has gotten into you?”
I slowly slid the books farther away from him, trying to be discreet, but failing miserably as his gaze tracked the movement for a beat before landing back on me.
“You must be on to some big breakthrough,” he said while taking the lid off his food.
“What?” I quacked.
Chance’s brow furrowed. “You’re writing a research paper to publish, aren’t you?” He nodded toward the large report covering the yearbook.
“Something like that,” I laughed, sounding a little too relieved at the suggestion.
“You don’t have to keep it a secret. I won’t tell anyone,” he said between bites of his food.
My heart began to race. I needed to get away from him. If he saw the yearbook, I knew he’d put two and two together. If he felt threatened, what would he be capable of? I was 99% sure he hadn’t hurt Claire, but there was still that 1%. We were alone in the lounge. Nobody was around to help me if he did something.
Chance surprised me when he started packing up his half-eaten food. It seemed he had realized my prickly behavior meant I wasn’t in the mood for company. I flinched when he got up from his seat, and I could have sworn I heard him sigh in disappointment.
“I didn’t mean to disrupt your work.” He picked up the container, pausing for a moment to add, “Let me know if you want another set of eyes when you start editing.” He smiled sadly.
“Thank you for dinner,” I replied softly.
He looked me up and down, studying me for a moment, perhaps considering asking me why I was suddenly so jumpy, but thankfully he eventually decided against it and padded to the far end of the lounge, taking his leave.
I’d never been more relieved when I heard the window snick as it closed.
My heart told me Chance was innocent, but my head couldn’t just ignore all the facts against him. At the very least, he was a Roberts, and he was lying about it.
What it meant…I didn’t know. But I was determined to find out.
