An Indecent Proposal(27)

“They’re here,” I whispered to Jude, even though they couldn’t possibly hear me through the tinted glass of the limousine pulling up in front of our building.

“Laurie, look at me.” Jude’s hands squeezed my shoulders hard, forcing me to meet her determined gaze. “You’re going to be okay. I’ll make sure of that. I’ve got your back.”

And she did. Just the day before, she had bought me a fake engagement ring, which I was wearing now. It had a small, pale blue aquamarine stone, and to the untrained eye, it almost looked like a diamond. According to Jude, it had been cheap, but judging from the way it sparkled, I wasn’t so sure about that.

“Thanks.” I almost choked on the word as I fought the urge to hide in her room and let her shield me from the world out there for the rest of my life. “I wish I didn’t have to go through with this.”

But there was no escape. My stepfather Clint was here, and with him his girlfriend of the year: Shannon, a tall blonde I only knew from phone calls and the pictures they had sent me last Christmas.

She looked about my age, but I could instantly sense something about her, a predatory trait that had managed to keep him interested in her for longer than the few weeks it usually took him to love and dump his girlfriends.

After my mother’s death, I had often wondered how someone as devout as she had been all her life could have fallen for such a man-whore, and why she had granted him access to her wealth, leaving me in his care and to his mercy financially. Maybe, when she put that ridiculous clause in her will, she should have done the same thing for him. Instead, she had trusted him blindly in her belief that he’d uphold her values beyond her grave. Trusting he would always stay the same kind of man with a smile on his lips. If only she had looked deeper, past his tanned skin and soulful eyes, to notice the shadows in his soul. Maybe then she would have seen him for the kind of person he really was.

“Promise me that if anything happens, you’ll remind me why I’m doing this. Why I put up with all his shit,” I whispered to Jude, drawing the curtains.

“Sure,” Jude said, her worried gaze scanning me up and down.

The seconds ticked by too quickly as they exited the limousine and Jude buzzed them in, a confident smile playing on her lips as she introduced herself as the roommate they had heard about but never met.

And then he stood before me. Dressed in his usual expensive gray striped suit, he oozed power and egocentric magnetism—the kind you usually observe in a crouching tiger.

“Laurie,” Clint said. “I’m so happy to finally get to see my darling girl.”

Even his voice was still as smooth and silky as I remembered. It took every inch of my willpower not to shrink back as his arms wrapped around my body and he pulled me to him.

I almost choked in his enthusiastic embrace and the force of his cologne. In the three years we hadn’t seen each other, he had put on weight around the midriff, and his once dark hair had turned an attractive shade of salt and pepper that suited his tanned, lined face. He had aged well for a fifty-year-old, and in spite of the slight weight gain he looked in great shape, courtesy of the huge swimming pool and fitness area that he had built specifically for him so he could pursue his enthusiasm for looking good.

I tried to pull away politely, without much success. Luckily, Shannon cut in. “My turn, darling.”

Clint released me and pointed to Shannon’s figure, clad in a black designer dress that exposed half of her big fake bosom and long, thin legs. “Laurie, this is Shannon. She’s wanted to meet you ever since I showed her pictures of you.”

I cringed inwardly. “Nice to meet you,” I said.

She shook my hand gingerly, and then pulled me to her in an awkward hug. Even her handshake was as weak as I suspected. Not much of a substantial character, I concluded.

“Look at you. You’re so pretty.” She smiled, revealing two strings of immaculate teeth, and wrapped her skinny arms around my waist, holding me at a safe distance. I could almost hear the “if only” echoing in the air between us while she took in every inch of me. I had heard that one before. If only I did something with my brown hair. If only I invested in some expensive designer clothes rather than walk around in my comfy jeans. The list went on and on.

“Thank you. You, too,” I said.

She was very pretty—in an obvious kind of way. She seemed desperate to show off her beauty—both through her choice of clothes and through her body. Even from a distance I could clearly see she’d had a couple of things done: her lips were pursed in an unnatural pout; her nose looked too thin, almost frail, her chest too round and perky. The list went on.