Page 70 of Cruel Offer
Right. I’d forgotten. Curious, I tilt my head and watch him dish up a plate. “What else did Eliza say about me?”
He shrugs. “Not much.”
“Really? It’s interesting she’d mention my favorite restaurant but nothing else.”
He stares at me, that familiar smirk curving his lips. “Are you worried she said something unfavorable about you?”
“Maybe.”
“She didn’t. I think she might be a little in love with you, actually. Especially since you let her put on a tutu and dance in front of the studio mirrors.”
I laugh, recalling how thrilled Eliza was when I pulled the stiff tutu up around her waist and laced up a pair of pointe shoes for her. She had no idea how to stand in them but made a valiant effort.
“She was an excellent student. We both had a great time,” I say.
“She thinks you’re perfect.”
He’s still staring at me, and the deep timbre of hiswords send a flurry of electric shocks rolling down my spine.What about you, Nate? What do you think of me?
He finishes with his plate and then motions me back over to the island so we can eat. After opening the windows to the back garden, he comments on the weather, purposefully changing the subject to something less intimate. We eat in silence for a while and I’m glad it’s not awkward. With him, it never is. We’ve had plenty of quiet, peaceful meals by now.
Finally, he sets his fork down and gives me a heated look.
“Hurry up and finish. I want to go to bed.”
I glance at the clock on the wall behind him. “It’s seven o’clock. Isn’t it kind of early?”
His gaze drops to my lips. “It’s never too early for my favorite dessert.”
29
PIPER-LILY
The week wentby much faster than I anticipated.
My anxiety grew as each day passed, bringing my dad’s trial closer and closer. It feels like I’m the one on trial, like I’m the one who’s done something wrong. Nate assured me that I’m experiencing a natural reaction to the situation, but the reassurance doesn’t do anything to make me feel better. It’s still my family name that’s getting dragged through the mud, and even with Sven to watch over me, I know the media and the paparazzi will be doing everything they can to get to me.
Cleo has been calling and texting several times a day to check in and give me pep talks. My mother calls each morning, too. She tries to be cheerful or find something interesting to talk about, but there’s no mistaking the tension in her voice. She’s trying to hold things together the way she always does, but I’m sure she’s falling apart behind closed doors.
Nothing I can say seems to help ease the guilt she feels about what my father has done to so many people. Shehad no awareness of what he was doing, but she still feels responsible because she lived off of the millions of dollars he stole and never asked any questions about it. We all lived off that money. But that doesn’t make all of us culpable.
There’s no way either my mom or I could have known our lifestyle was supported by dirty money. I try not to think too much about it, though, because even though I’ve told my mom that we’re innocent, I feel a lot of guilt, too.
Luckily, the paparazzi haven’t caught on to where I’m living. The first thing I’ve been doing after I get out of bed each morning is peeking out the window to the street for any sign of the media. It’s not just me. Nate has seemed more on edge, too. I’ve noticed he’s been double and triple checking each lock in the house, making sure all the windows are closed tight, and testing the security system to make sure everything is working.
All remains calm in our neighborhood, however, and since today is the first day of my father’s trial, I’m hoping the media will be completely focused on that and not overly worried about what I might be up to. Still, Sven takes no chances as he checks the perimeter of Nate’s property before ushering me into a nondescript black SUV so he can chauffeur me to the dance studio. I’m teaching an afternoon class for another teacher who called in sick. I welcome the change of pace to help keep my mind off things.
My entire body relaxes when I walk into the studio. This has been my happy place for so long. I’m grateful it still has that effect on me because I really need it right now. I’m not sure where Sven is posted, but I’m sure he’ssomewhere close, keeping an eye on everything. My mother texts me just as I enter the dressing room to change into my dance clothes.
Proceedings are almost done for today. I’ll call you soon.
Stomach clenching, I text her right back.
I’m teaching until three. Call after that.
My phone chimes with another response, but I can hear the students coming in, so I put my cell away and finish changing. When I hurry out to greet the children, most of the parents seem shocked to see me, which isn’t surprising. They were expecting their usual teacher, Miss Kimmie. None of them make eye contact with me as I explain that she’s out sick today, but none of them take their children and leave, so that makes me feel slightly better.
One of the children makes a comment about a scary man outside by the door and I have a flashback to the paparazzi trying to peek inside the windows. I move that way to get a better look and quickly confirm that it’s Sven. He’s standing slightly in the shadows while looking out the side window that frames the front door. None of the parents stayed to wait for their kids, so he’s alone in the waiting area with a perfect view of the street and sidewalk.
