“If you want to frolic onstage like a homeless dreamer during your free time, be my guest,” she says. “But you’re not allowed to make decisions about the things that have already been decided on, and you know that. Don’t you?”
“Yes…” I’m in too much pain to nod. “I do know that.”
“Good,” she says, glancing at her nails. “Looks like I might’ve smudged a couple. Do you want to go with me to the spa before we hit The Hamptons?”
She doesn’t give me a chance to answer.
“We should,” she says, rummaging through her purse. “It’ll make you feel better.” She pulls out a pair of oversized sunglasses and slides them over my face.
“We’ll get you a few new pairs of those on the way as well.” She steps back. “Let’s go. The car is waiting.”
I wait for her to help me, but she doesn’t.
She didn’t last time either…
I lift my purse and step forward, biting my lip as my face throbs in pain.
Outside, Francis is holding the back door open.
My mother slides in first and pulls out her phone, quickly calling one of her friends as if nothing has happened.
“I tried to warn you,” Francis whispers.
As if he knows I can’t talk right now, he helps me into the car and buckles the seatbelt for me.
He presses something cold into my hand before shutting the door.
When he pulls onto the street, I don’t dare look at my reflection in the rearview mirror. The redness and swelling won’theal anytime soon, and perhaps I need them as a reminder to stay in my place anyway.
RESCIND (V.):
TO CANCEL A CONTRACT, PUTTING THE PARTIES BACK TO THE POSITION AS IF THE CONTRACT HAD NOT EXISTED.
JAMESON
Peter Hansel’s Newest Legal Thriller Coming Soon
Peter Hansel Chats with Law Students About Ethics
How Peter Hansel Prepared for the Biggest Case of His Career
Iscroll through years’ worth of headlines as the town car driver coasts through The Hamptons.
Even though I know every word in these articles like the back of my hand, I can’t help reopening the wound.
Well, that, and I’m trying to distract myself from the ever-weaving web of Lucas’s cases. For every thread I seal, a new one unfurls with trickier (and guiltier) spirals than the one before.
It also pushes me farther away from Scarlett...
“Mr. Tate?” The driver’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts.
“Yes?”
“We’ve arrived, sir,” he says. “Would you like me to drop you off at the guest residence or the party entrance?”
“The party entrance,” I say.
“Very well, sir.” He pulls into the far right lane. “A bellman will retrieve your belongings from the trunk and place them in whatever guest room you were assigned by Mrs. Hunter.”
