An Improper Deal(43)

Gigi has had her share, too. I wrap her soft red hair around my finger. Was that what made her such a spitfire?

I’ve read the report on her. Her father swindled the people in her hometown. It was a simple scam, run on people who didn’t know any better. Invest with us and triple your money in ten years. It was good at first. The first few investors did very well, much better than they ever dreamed of.

A lot of people noticed, and they had dollar signs in their eyes when they realized how much they could make by investing with her father. He even had a partner, a long-time resident of the town. Four generations. Everyone trusted the two until their shit fell apart, just like every other Ponzi scheme ever created.

She was only twenty when the whole thing blew up. The same age as when I experienced my own crushing betrayal. Except with mine nobody else’s life was ruined, no money lost.

Just my pride and my heart.

Thankfully it was a private humiliation, just something between me and Dad. I move to a window and gaze off into the distance. Isn’t it amazing how fathers can destroy their kids’ lives?





Chapter Nineteen



Annabelle

When I wake up, I’m in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. The sharply slanted light coming from outside tells me it’s late.

I sit up. Thankfully, I’m still in the green dress I wore to the courthouse. But now it’s horribly wrinkled, and I’m going to have to change into something else. The clock on the nightstand reads five thirty-two. Just when did I fall asleep?

In Elliot’s car.

I turn on the bedside lamp and take a good look at the place. The room is huge—I’m on a queen-size bed with pristine white sheets that feel like silk against my skin…there are a couple of dressers and a vanity and a walk-in closet. A print of some European cityscape hangs on one wall.

The en suite bathroom is fully stocked with expensive toiletries with gender neutral scent, but the closet is empty. I frown. I could have sworn Elliot said he was moving me and Nonny today.

Still groggy, I open the door to go find—

A body slams into me, ponytail going wild and the squeal ear-piercingly loud.

I almost lose my balance. Nonny can be very physical when she’s overly excited, but I haven’t seen her behave this way since before our parents died. Excitement shines in her eyes, and she drags me out to the living room.

“Oh my god, did you see? Did you see?” She hops around, her arms pumping.

I’m still somewhat out of it, but her happiness buoys my mood. “See what?”

“This!” She swings her arms wildly, indicating the whole house. “Elliot says this is where we’re going to live. Can you believe it? I get my own suite! It has its own bedroom and bathroom and a living room! It’s like a house all by itself. And the walk-in closet! It’s huge!”

I smile. “It is a nice pla—”

“And Elliot said I can go shopping for some new things tomorrow if I want. If I want…as if!” She giggles.

It’s good to see her acting her age, but why is Elliot doing all this? I was planning to use my clothes allowance on Nonny. She isn’t his concern, and all this is above and beyond what we agreed to. In my experience, people don’t act kindly toward you for no reason. Everything comes with a price tag.

“Have you seen Elliot?” I ask.

“Uh-huh. He’s in the master suite.” She points her finger behind me at a winding staircase and raises her eyebrows. “The master suite. Isn’t that just too cool?”

That explains why the room I was in earlier lacked clothes, but I’m not certain if he means to have us sleep separately. I frown. The possibility never crossed my mind. Actually, a lot of how this fake marriage is going to work has probably never crossed my mind. I’ve been too busy trying to get through each day without driving myself insane with what ifs.

I go upstairs. The steps are some kind of lightly frosted, glasslike material, but they aren’t slippery. The late afternoon light pours in through a skylight above, turning everything golden.

There is an arched hall that appears to go straight to a rooftop terrace, and double doors that probably lead to the actual master suite.

I knock, then stick my head in when I don’t hear any response. This suite is even bigger than the one I was in before, but there’s nothing gender neutral about it. It’s stark, cool and masculine with just the right display of wealth to give it an air of understated moneyed elegance. The snowy sheets and covers on the king-size bed contrast sharply against a frame carved out of dark wood—probably teak. The floor is made of the same kind of wood, covered with an aged patina that doesn’t have a single scratch. A wet bar occupies one corner, and a decanter on the counter contains amber-colored liquor. There aren’t any paintings or prints on the walls. Instead it has a huge floor-to-ceiling window that faces the city. Bright red brake lights illuminate the roads like Christmas.