Page 68 of Scandal
I have to give her credit. Evie is a good listener. She’s not like my sister or Zara, who offer words of encouragement or gasp in outrage at just the right moment. But she listens withoutjudging, asking questions to show she’s engaged. When I finally finish venting, I actually feel a little better.
“So the two of you are making out in the loch,” she clarifies, tapping her nail against the table. “He’s obviously into it. What about that scenario gives you the impression that you’re a bad kisser? Did he say something? Did you accidentally stick your tongue in his eye? What am I missing here?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “He just froze all of a sudden and said we should head back to the house.”
She starts shaking her head. “No, I think you’re leaving something out.”
I avert my gaze. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re getting all dodgy again. That and you’re a shitty liar.” Evie is definitely not like the other staff members.
I kind of like it.
I throw my hands up in the air in defeat. “Fine, yes. I might have said something.”
Her brows pique. “What did you say?”
“Nothing of consequence.”
“It was clearly something, if it had you scouring the internet for kissing tips.”
“Oh my god, can we just forget you ever saw that?”
“No, sorry.”
“They make you sign an NDA, right?” I’m only half joking.
“Yes,” she answers, her expression serious. “Although the countess is my employer, you are the one I was assigned to. So whatever is said between us, I want you to know I consider it confidential.”
“I’m a virgin,” I blurt out.
Her eyes widen only slightly before she says, “Not a total surprise. I’m guessing this is the thing you said to him that spoiled the mood that day in the water?”
“Not exactly. He already knew I was a virgin.” Chewing on my bottom lip, I tell her. “I told him I wanted him to be my first.”
“And he said no?”
“He didn’t say anything!” I complain. “I told him I want to have sex with him, and all he said in response was something about the water getting too cold and needing to get back.”
“And since then?”
“He hasn’t directly addressed it, but that night he grabbed the extra blanket off the bed and said he wasn’t feeling well and was going to sleep on the chaise.”
She lets out a sigh. “Let me guess. He’s been sleeping there ever since?”
“You should be a spy. Or maybe a psychologist?” Her skills were being seriously wasted in this place.
“Pass.”
I hear commotion in the hall, and I know our time has run out. It’s officially time for lunch, and my presence is required. We both rise from the table, and she dutifully takes my laptop, knowing it’s in poor taste to bring it into the morning room where lunch is served.
But before we start toward the door, she turns to me. “Do you want it to be real?”
It takes me a moment to realize what she’s asking.
Do I want our relationship to be real? “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Maybe.”Yes.
She must sense my hesitation to speak the truth, because the next thing she says is, “If you’re willing to speak to the countess about my…appalling wardrobe, I might be open to helping you in other areas.”
