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Lia was too shocked to speak.
“That won’t be a problem, will it?” he asked.
“No,” she said, forcing herself to answer. “I don’t have plans Friday.”
“You’ll make the showing?”
“Sure,” she said. “Right.” She faked a smile. “Sounds lovely.”
She and Gogo went upstairs to her suite. As soon as she entered her sitting room, she saw David’s “gift.” A small box, the perfect size for a bracelet or necklace.
She knew that, whatever was in there, it wasn’t anything she would want.
With shaking hands, she tore off the red wrapping paper and lifted the lid of the box.
She found a small envelope inside. When she opened it, a lock of gingerbread-colored hair fell out into her hand.
Her hair.
On the notecard, in his sloping looping handwriting she remembered so well, he’d written her a little note. The stationery was elegant, embossed with his name and a stylizedDBon it. It seemed someone was moving up in the world.
Dear Ophelia,
I’m back. Call me tomorrow. We should talk.
David
P.S. If you don’t call me, I will call you. So call me.
Lia stared at the note.
Call him tomorrow...that was today. What the hell would he want with her now? And what was he doing back, hanging around Wingthorn and her parents like nothing had happened?
Lia knew she had to call. She’d go mad wondering what he wanted from her if she didn’t. Her hands shook so hard she could barely tap the numbers on her phone. But she managed to do it. She heard the rings and held her breath.
“Hello, Ophelia,” David said when he answered. God, she hated caller ID.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“That’s not very friendly.”
“I’m not very friendly. What do you want?”
“You still haven’t told your parents,” David said. “Why is that?”
“They don’t need to know.” And Lia would die before she told them.
“So... I hear you’ve started a gardening and tennis club,” he said.
Lia froze. She had to force herself to speak.
“You want to join?” she asked. “The dues are out of your price range, I promise.”
“Doesn’t seem much point in joining when you don’t do any gardening. And when’s the last time you picked up a tennis racquet?”
Lia didn’t answer.
“I know what your little club is,” David continued. “And I’m going to tell your parents. I’m going to tell the police. And I’m going to tell the papers. Earl’s daughter starts her own escort agency? What a story.”
