Page 64 of City of Liars

“What’s wrong with Claire? She looks okay.”

“Don’t try to dodge, Olivia! Answer the question!”

I pulled on my yoga pants, tossed Theo his boxers, then stood in front of him to block the view. Krista snorted. “I don’t know why you’re bothering. I’ve already seen everything he’s got. Who is he, for God’s sake?”

Theo stepped out from behind me, still shirtless, and extended his hand. “Hi, Krista,” he said, his voice calmer than it had any right to be. “Nice to meet you. I’m Theo Dressler.”

His name fell into the living room like a bomb and promptly detonated. Krista had taken his hand; she let it fall and stared at him in horror. “You’re the pianist,” she said, and it sounded like a malediction. “Aunt Kate told me what you did. You lied about who you were so you could meet Grandma Ella.”

Crap, crap, crap.

Krista’s horrified gaze swiveled to meet mine. “You told me you were coming to New York to get away. Because you needed a weekend escape. But you actually came up here to meet him?”

“Well,” I said as Theo located his shirt on the piano bench and pulled it over his head, “we came up here together.”

“Semantics!” Krista flapped her hand in the air as if in preparation for takeoff. “You lied to me, and don’t you dare say it was just a lie of omission. You know your parents would’ve had a fit if they thought you were up here with Mr. I Can’t Keep My Pants On.”

Theo blushed scarlet and started rummaging on the floor for his jeans.

“And,” she went on, “you snuck a Dressler into my apartment and screwed him on my Turkish kilim rug! Do you know how expensive those things are to clean?”

“I—”

“That’s beside the point.” She was back to the hand-flapping. “As is the fact that you may have scarred my daughter for life. What the hell are you doing here, Olivia—other than him?” She pointed at Theo with a damning finger.

We both turned to look at Theo, who had shoved on his shoes and was edging toward the door. “I should go,” he said, tugging on the cuffs of his Henley the way I’d noticed he did when he was nervous.

“That’s an excellent idea,” Krista agreed, just as I told him, “Stay.”

I glared at Krista, who glared right back. Theo looked between the two of us, clearly battling the urge to flee.

Krista caved first. “Fine, Olivia. You want a witness? You’ve got one.” She rolled her eyes skyward, reminding me of my daughter. “Now spill, before I really lose my temper.”

“Fine.” Sighing, I told her everything, minus the strange dreams we’d had and the mysteriously playing piano. I hardly believed that part myself. To share it with Krista would be to strain the boundaries of my fraying credibility.

She looked, if possible, even more furious than before. Folding her arms across her chest, her face a dangerous shade of puce, she said, “You ransacked my house? Do you have any idea how invasive that is, Olivia?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. And I was. “But I didn’t think if I told you why I was really coming to New York, you would’ve let me stay here, much less allow me to bring Theo into your apartment.”

“Well, you’ll never know, will you? Because you didn’t ask.” The glare she leveled me with could’ve frozen the Hudson solid. “And all for what? To dig into that old mystery? Ever heard of letting bygones be bygones, Olivia? That was ninety years ago! You turned my house upside down without my permission, all over some ancient history that doesn’t even matter.”

Restraining the urge to blurt out that it mattered to me, I folded my arms across my chest and did my best not to sound defensive. “I screwed up.”

“You think?”

“Just let me finish! I know I went about this all wrong. But come on. Do you want to sleepwalk through your life, never delving beneath the surface of anything that seems like it could be the least bit disturbing or disruptive?” I waved a hand, encompassing the gorgeous living room, the much-maligned rug, and the view of Gramercy Park. “Are you afraid if you find out you’re descended from the Dresslers, all this will evaporate and you won’t know who you are without it?”

My cousin’s face reddened even further. “You think I’m upset about this because I’m having an identity crisis? God, Olivia!”

“Is it the money, then?” I challenged her. “Is it the problem that you can’t stand the thought of losing the Carter fortune and everything that comes with it?”

Krista stiffened. “You say that like it’s nothing. I know you’ve always…moved in different circles. But we don’t all have that luxury. For some of us, heritage matters.”

My jaw dropped, and despite myself, tears sprang to my eyes. “I can’t believe you just said that. Are you insinuating that because I chose to get my PhD and work for a living—because I’m adopted—this isn’t my family, too? That I don’t care what happens to all of you? To Grandma Ella? To my daughter?”

Krista had the good grace to look ashamed. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s no other way to take it. But since you went down that road, let’s go a little further.” I straightened my spine, looking her in the eye. “There’s medical implications to this situation, too. Have you thought of that? If you’re descended from Eastern European Jews, you might want to think about getting tested for genetic mutations in BRCA1 and 2, or the mutation that causes Tay-Sachs. Think about Claire. If this is part of her family history, wouldn’t you want her to know?”