Page 49 of Love and Lies

“Of course. I mean, it’s pizza. You know the saying, ‘You can’t make everyone happy; you’re not pizza’? Well, it’s true. Especially when the pizza is as amazing as this.”

“Yeah, Leonora’s the best.”

“For sure.”

I was still shaken to the core, but with every minute I sat there, the shock subsided. I felt safe around Jessiah, and not just because he’d come to my rescue with Pratt. He had a way about him that made me feel secure, and yet I saw the opposite in his eyes—rebelliousness, and a desire for freedom. I wanted to get to the bottom of that contradiction and learn more about Jessiah Coldwell—who he was, what was going through his mind, what he was feeling. Even if wanting all that was not a good idea.

So, in between bites, I asked: “Why are you doing this?”

“Why am I doing what?”

“Bringing me here, giving me pizza, lending me spare uniforms… why? I haven’t exactly given you any reason to be nice to me.”

Jessiah shrugged. “That has nothing to do with it. You needed help; I was there. End of story.”

“So you’re still mad at me?” I didn’t get the impression he was just then, but I remembered all too well how we’d left things after our last meeting. His snarled It was in no way a pleasure had seared itself into my brain.

He gave an amused snort. “Sounds like it would be a relief to you if I were.”

I shook my head. “No, it wouldn’t. But it would be fair, I think.”

“I promise to be mad at you again as soon as you’ve recovered, if that’s what you really want,” he suggested. “At the moment, I’m finding it a little hard.”

His words made me smile. “What if I told you I’m feeling much better already?”

“I’m afraid you don’t get to make that call.” His green eyes sparkled in a way that made my heart beat a little faster. I quickly reached for another slice of pizza, and we ate in silence until I spoke again.

“I’m sorry… about what I did. I should have just asked you if I could have Valerie’s hoodie. It didn’t really occur to me.” It was important to me to explain that. Because it was important to me that he didn’t get the wrong impression of me. Oh, so you weren’t there to steal Adam’s notebook, then? I ignored the voice in my head. “Maybe I’ve been living for too long in a world where everyone’s trying to save face, so they find ways to get what they want on the sly.”

He nodded slowly. “I know what you mean.”

“Really? Seems like you do a pretty good job of avoiding all that, from what I’ve heard.”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. It didn’t seem to surprise him that I knew about his past misdemeanors. “But if you’re looking for tips on how to rebel against your parents… I can’t really recommend my methods.”

“I don’t want to rebel against them,” I corrected him. “That wouldn’t feel right to me. I have so much privilege because of them—we have money, and influence, I can go to any college I want, travel anywhere I want. Complaining about being part of my family would feel wrong. Like I was ungrateful.”

Jessiah wrinkled his brow. “You can appreciate your privilege and still disagree with some things your parents do,” he said. “Don’t tell me there’s nothing that pisses you off.”

His directness loosened my tongue faster than my brain could stop it. He might have been a Coldwell, but I was at the end of my tether. And I needed someone to talk to who would understand.

“It’s like I’m just doing PR for them,” I blurted out. “Since I came home, they have nothing better to do than dress me up in pretty clothes and parade me around society like the perfect daughter. And in the last two weeks, they’ve given me phone numbers for three different guys—sons of their business partners—in the hopes that I’ll date one of them. There’s a soft launch next weekend at the newly opened Mirage Hotel, and under no circumstances am I to show up there without a date. Like it’s the nineteenth century and I have to find a suitable husband so my inheritance doesn’t go to some distant cousin.” I stopped for breath. I’d said it all very fast. But it had done me good.

Jessiah gave me a scrutinizing look. “And are you going to go with one of the guys?”

“Of course not,” I scoffed. You think I want to talk about trust funds, cars, and wild parties in Cabo all night?”

“I don’t know, do you?” he teased, but he seemed happy with my answer. I looked at him.

“Does your mother do that too? Try to palm random girls off on you?” I wiped my fingers on a napkin.

“God, no.” Jessiah laughed out loud. “Trish is well aware there would be no point even trying.”

“Trish?” So he called his mother by her first name. “You don’t call her ‘Mom’?”

Jessiah shook his head. “No, I never have. When I was younger, she was working all the time, and after the divorce, I moved in with my dad. I was a teenager when I went to live with her again, but we didn’t get along at all. Calling her Trish was part of my rebellion against her, and at some point it stuck. It would feel weird to call her ‘Mom,’ even more so now. We’re not very close.”

I frowned. “So how come you still go to all those events with her?”