Page 59 of All Bets Are Off
Tripp wouldn’t like me alone in an elevator with a man, I think, but I have no time to react when Calder, still sporting a black eye, joins me in the small, mirrored car.
With a hard swallow, I decide to brazen it out. “Hi. Calder, right?”
He gives me a crude once-over, his stare lingering on my earrings.
My engagement ring.
A chill rents the air, and I press myself back into the corner as the elevator begins to move downward. I only have to make it ten seconds, right?
“Well, as a maid, I would say it’s more appropriate for you to call me Mr. Hamilton, but it appears you won’t be a maid much longer, hmm?”
My cheeks smart, like I’ve been smacked. “Did I do something to offend you?”
“Besides social climbing way above your station?” He shrugs. “Not really. It’s actually rather impressive, the way you’ve managed to bag the biggest fish in the pond. Congratulations. You must be incredible in the sack.”
I recoil and cast my eyes down to the ground, knowing, as a woman alone with a hostile man, it’s never a good idea to engage. But I could really use one of those panic buttons right about now because that’s how I feel. Panicked.
“Imagine…” Calder drawls, shaking his head. “Your whole relationship with Tripp started as a bet.”
I jerk my chin up, the chill in the air beginning to permeate my bones. “What?”
He hits the emergency stop button on the elevator, grinding the car to a halt, and my blood starts to feel icy and sluggish.
Calder laughs. “I knew he wouldn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?” I ask, my voice sounding far away.
He turns to face me, propping a shoulder against the wall of the elevator. “We bet Tripp that if he pursued you, you would be digging for gold by the end of the week.” He looks pointedly once again at my earrings, and all I can think is,Thank God I didn’t wear the necklace, as he taps his chin. “If you really think about it, he lost the bet. Or did you buy those earrings yourself?”
His raucous laughter turns my stomach.
He can’t be telling the truth, right?
Tripp wouldn’t make a bet like that. Would he?
If you really think about it, he lost the bet.
If you really think about it, he lost the bet.
That statement is ricocheting around the inside of my skull.
It’s true, isn’t it? How long did it take me to cave in and start accepting Tripp’s gifts and gestures? Three days?
“I…I…It’s not like that.”
“It’s not?” Calder tilts his head. “I’d bet my summer house in Amalfi that you’ll be attending Yale in the fall. Am I wrong?”
Tears flood my eyes.
Oh God. Did I inadvertently use my fiancé?
Have I proven myself an opportunist?
Does Tripp believe this terrible thing about me, deep down?
“H-he just asked them to review the application again…”
“Aw. Sure, sweetie. I’m sure Yale wasn’t simply terrified of losing their biggest donor.” He smacks the emergency button again, and the elevator lurches into movement, but my stomach remains trapped between floors. I’m numb. I’m freezing. I’m ashamed.
