14
STELLA
I’M DOWNSTAIRS, THEO TEXTED.
Panicking that he might be pissing off my employees, I scooped my purse from the coffee table and rushed toward the front door. My heels were waiting for me beside it, and while I tugged them on, I shot a glance back into the living room toward Amos, whom I’d just put back in his cage.
“Don’t answer the door while I’m gone.”
“Come on in!” he cawed.
If Mom didn’t get me robbed, he would.
“I’ll be back soon,” I told him.
“Treat, Snack Bitch?”
“Later, I promise.”
Slipping out the door, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and headed downstairs. The sound of feminine laughter hit my ears. Hopefully Elayne and Shaunté had been giving Theo hell and were now cackling over the destruction of his fragile man-ego.
I passed the last tattoo booth and stepped into the lobby, stopping short at the sight of the three of them clustered close, conspiratorial looks on their faces as they laughed together. Theo leaned against the front desk, speaking in a low voice, and I suddenly wished I’d made him buy an uglier suit.
Because he looked incredible. Like he’d just stepped out of an advertisement for expensive cologne. He must have gotten it tailored because it hit him in all the right places, and the navy blue color brought out his eyes in a way I hadn’t anticipated.
Something low in my abdomen clenched at the sight of him, and if not for the audience, I would have turned into the old man from Family Guy and punched myself in the crotch, but instead of yelling, “Wake up, damn
it!” I’d be screaming, “I warned you what would happen if you started acting slutty again!”
Theo caught sight of me and straightened, his expression sobering as his gaze raked over my body from head to toe. “You look amazing,” he said, sounding like he genuinely meant it, but there was a lingering gleam of malice in his eyes I didn’t trust.
The women turned toward me, their expressions almost … sympathetic?
“Oh, wow, Stel,” Shaunté said.
“Damn,” Elayne added. “Look at the smoke show.”
I fought back a frown. What the hell was this? Where were the sarcastic jabs from Elayne I’d come to expect? The insult sandwich Shaunté was known for?
“Thank you?” I frowned, stepping forward to join them.
They shared a look, expressions shifting into what might have been pity.
“Don’t worry about the shop while you’re gone,” Shaunté said. “We’ll hold down the fort.”
“Yeah,” Elayne said. “You do too much. You deserve to have a night off with your boyfriend. We can close.”
Okay. What the fuck was going on here? Why were they suddenly being so nice?
My gaze shifted to Theo, who was smiling like the Cheshire Cat, and I knew, I knew, he’d said something to them. Probably something either embarrassing or fabricated. I’d look like a lunatic if I started interrogating them, and since that might play right into his hand, I decided the only way forward was to pretend like I hadn’t noticed anything.
“There’s no need for you to close,” I said. “I should be back by then.”
“Unless I convince her to stay at my place,” Theo tacked on, his voice low and full of innuendo.
My stomach swooped. While I wasn’t fully committed to giving him the list of names Runa and I had drafted—I wanted assurances the targets would only be hurt financially—one thing I was sure about was that the less I fought Theo, the easier my time with him would be. Which meant I needed to start acting like he really was my boyfriend. At least in front of other people.
I sauntered over and plastered myself to his side, one hand around his back, the other braced on his hip as I stared up at him in false devotion. His
arm wrapped around me automatically, and the way his eyes darkened as they stared into mine was not fit for the public.
“In that case,” I told the girls, “you’re closing.”
Theo and I held each other’s gazes while the pair laughed and made lewd jokes. I kept my mind carefully blank as I met his impossible stare, ignoring the heat rolling off his big body, the feel of muscle and bone beneath my palms. He gave good smolder, but I wasn’t fooled. I could see a calculating gleam that said he didn’t trust my act.
Before he could read into it, I turned back to the girls. “Don’t turn the music up too loud. Amos needs his beauty sleep.”
“We won’t,” Shaunté assured me.
“Ladies,” Theo said, his hand completely enveloping mine. “Have a good night.”
“You, too,” they chorused, glancing between the two of us like proud aunties sending a niece off to prom.
Theo’s grip tightened as he led me out the door. The second we were out of sight of the shop windows, he practically threw my hand back at me.
“Who’s Amos?”
“My African grey parrot.”
“That explains the smell.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to shut the fuck up, but miraculously, I managed to keep my response measured. “Amos doesn’t smell bad. He smells like laundry.”
He fell quiet as we climbed into his car. It was surprisingly nice. Clean.
Even smelled good. I buckled myself in and waited for him to start the engine, but he just sat there, staring at me.
“What are you doing, Stella?”
“Waiting for you to drive, so I can give you directions.”
He gestured toward me. “No, I mean this Stepford wife routine.”
I forced myself to smile. “I’m behaving, like you told me to. Showing you what a good little blackmailee I can be.”
“You’re up to something.”
“I’m not,” I spoke through my teeth. Christ, this man was exhausting.
“If you do anything to risk this, I’ll tack another quarter million on, and then you’ll never get rid of me.” His expression turned ominous. “We might even have to get engaged.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “I promise I won’t be a problem.”
Somehow, it was the wrong thing to say. In a flash, Theo was in my space, his hand on my chin, his grip just shy of painful as he stared into my eyes. “Don’t think for a fucking second I’m falling for this act. What are
you planning?”
“Literally nothing.”
“I swear to God, Stella,” he seethed, clearly not believing me, “if you fuck with my business, I will burn your entire life down around you. I’m talking scorched-earth, salt the ground, there will be nothing left when I am
done level of retribution.”
“Casual.”
“Fuck!” he yelled, releasing me. “This isn’t funny!”
“Yeah, I get that,” I told him, leaning as far away in my seat as I could.
“But it’s either crack a joke or start crying, and my mascara isn’t waterproof. I was just trying to make it easier between us, but you’re such a monumental asshole that it’s obviously impossible!”
The car’s engine roared to life, and then we were tearing out of the parking space into the night. I grabbed the door handle as we raced past shops and pedestrians. One wrong move, and … oh, god.
“Slow down,” I said, fighting back a wave of panicked nausea. Scenes from the night of the accident flashed through my mind.
Theo ignored me, the streets whizzing past as he broke the speed limit and closed in on the sound barrier. Up ahead, a light turned yellow, but instead of braking, he put the gas pedal to the floor, and we passed through the intersection right as it turned red. I curled in on myself, bracing for an impact that, thankfully, never came.
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and my voice came out broken.
“Please.”
He glanced over at me and swore, but he eased his foot off the gas, and the car slowed to a survivable speed.
Silence descended upon us. I had no idea what to say to him because so far, nothing seemed right. No matter how I acted, it blew up in my face. Or more like, he did. I don’t think I’d ever met anyone so full of anger, and it made me wonder what made him like this. Was it learned? Or had he been
born spitting venom?
“Where am I going?” he finally said.
“Get on the highway and head north,” I answered. Of course he wasn’t going to apologize for threatening and then scaring me. God, I hated him.
He glanced my way. “You seem like you’ve made a regrettably full recovery after slamming your skull into the hood of that car last week. I’m guessing your head is fine?”
I shrugged. “I’ve never had any complaints.”
“Goddamn it, Stella,” he snapped.
“What?” I yelled back, my temper frayed. “Arguing with you hasn’t worked, and neither has being nice. If you’re going to be an asshole all the time, I might as well crack jokes to entertain myself.”
He didn’t reply, just worked the manual transmission through the gears as we made our way east toward the nearest on-ramp. The quiet lengthened until it grew awkward. At least for me. I wanted to say something to break the silence, call a truce between us, but I didn’t know how.
A glance over revealed him studying the road ahead, jaw clenched like he was still on edge. Waves of light and darkness played across his features as we passed under streetlights, a fitting analogy for his volatility. There had to be some way to get on his good side. If he even had one.
I heard a crinkling sound from the back as he took a turn and glanced toward it. There were several boxes of food stacked on the floor behind us. I saw crackers, protein bars, and mixed nuts.
“I think you forgot to unload some of your groceries,” I said, sitting forward again.
“No, I didn’t.” He shot me an ugly look. “Not all of us grew up with the same easy access to food like you did, and that can leave a mark on a person. I always have something on hand, just in case.”
His words made me want to sink through the floor and let the traffic claim me.
Theo had food insecurity. My brain didn’t know what to do with that information.
Was he an asshole? Big time. But that didn’t keep me from feeling bad for him. No child should have to grow up like that. This country had so much fucking wealth that the absolute least we could do was make sure no one went hungry.
I stared out the window, thinking back to the night in the restaurant. The way Theo had been such a jerk about me refusing food. And at my parents’
party, when he kept trying to slip hamburgers and potato salad and pasta onto my plate. I thought it was just a dig at how skinny I was, but what if that wasn’t it? What if me not eating made him nervous, brought up past trauma, and his response was to bully me into eating?
It made me want to learn more about him. To find out what made him tick, so I could avoid stepping on any other hidden land mines.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be. I don’t want your pity.”
I opened my mouth to tell him it wasn’t pity, but changed my mind. He wouldn’t believe me anyway, and he’d probably just see my regret as something else to exploit, knowing him.
The rest of the drive north passed in stilted silence, punctuated only by my directions. Theo kept the car to a somewhat reasonable speed, but I still flinched anytime he switched lanes too quickly or tailgated. After the night of the accident, I’d mostly avoided motor vehicles, and despite unpacking why in therapy, being in them still freaked me out. Especially when someone I didn’t trust was behind the wheel.
“Tell me more about tonight’s party,” Theo said when we were a few miles away. All I’d really told him over text was that there would be plenty of people for him to schmooze with.
“It’s at Cordelia Fentwick’s summer house,” I said.
“I thought you hated her.”
“I do.”
“What’s the party for?” he asked.
“It’s the annual death day celebration for Cordelia’s late husband.”
“That can’t be a real thing.”
“I assure you, it is. He passed twenty years ago, and every year on the anniversary of his death, she throws this huge, lavish dinner party, with the proceeds going to lung cancer research.”
“Is that what he died from?”
“No. He had a stroke on a golf course.”
The steering wheel creaked from how hard Theo was squeezing it.
“Stella.”
“I’m being serious! That’s really how he died. And no, I don’t know why the money goes toward something else. Probably because she hated him.”
He shook his head. “Imagine being that petty.”
“Well, at least that pettiness results in a lot of money being put toward research for a really deadly form of cancer. And …”
He glanced my way. “And what?”
I sighed. Time to dance with the devil. “And since Cordelia is such a petty asshole, that means a lot of other ones will be in attendance, so you should have plenty of people to prey on.”
“Your parents are going.”
“Yes,” I said, my tone sharp because I didn’t like the implication.
“Because they genuinely want to contribute money to the research.”
“Cordelia was at their party.”
“Because she’s my father’s aunt and they invited her to be polite.”
His profile contorted with a grimace. “You’re related to that old cow?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
He cut his gaze to me again. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. The two of you have an uncanny resemblance to each other.”
I glared. “She’s five-foot-nothing with flaming red hair and looks like
the reanimated corpse of a frog.”
“Like I said, uncanny.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted to punch someone so much.
There was absolutely no hope of getting along with him.
“Walk me through the festivities,” he said as we turned off the main road and started climbing into the foothills.
“There will be drinks and hors d’oeuvres right when we get there. Don’t overdo it on those, because Aunt Cordy’s dinners are usually five courses.
Afterward, there will be more socializing and dancing, followed by the
fundraiser.”
“And who do you expect to be there?”
I sighed, racking my brain. “I haven’t been to one of these in years, but the attendees rarely change in our circles, so I’m guessing the big names will be the MacArthurs, the Warners, the Crowns, the Rosenfields, and the Bluhms. Maybe the—”
“The Bluhms?” Theo interrupted. “As in, Bradley?”
“Obviously not, since he’s busy fleeing across Europe. And probably not his parents either. I think they’re pretty much housebound. But his aunt and uncle and cousins are still being sociable, and from what Mom said, they’re
telling everyone who will listen that Brad always creeped them out, even as a kid.”
Theo scoffed. “Please tell me you’re not dumb enough to believe that.”
I placed my hands in my lap, clutching them together to keep from reaching out and squeezing Theo’s throat. “No, I’m not. Especially because I have it on good authority that they helped cover some of Brad’s crimes when he was younger.”
“You’d know all about that kind of behavior, wouldn’t you?” he said.
I craned my head sideways, staring at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He sent me a scathing look. “Please. I did my research. I know all about the horrible shit you got away with because your parents threw money at the problem.”
“Look, I’m the first to admit that I was a reckless idiot when I was younger, but DUIs and pranks that got out of hand are not the same as driving your car into someone’s bedroom because they turned you down for
a date.”
“But running someone over is.”
I sucked in a breath. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No? You didn’t run a woman down and then skip away from it scot- free?”
“Shut up,” I said, and in my mind, I saw Maddie sprinting into the darkness, heard Runa screaming.
“Not so high and mighty now, are you?” Theo said, an ugly, goading note in his tone.
“I said, shut up.” My ears were starting to ring.
“Talk all the shit you want, but the truth is, you’re just as bad as the rest of those assholes.”
“No, I’m not,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Tell that to the woman you—”
“I wasn’t the one driving the fucking car!” I screamed.
