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Chapter one
Short skirt, big ambitions
Claire’snosepeekedoverthe top of the bricks as she watched the gardener. The scratchy material of her short, pleated skirt rubbed against the backs of her thighs. She was biding her time.
The last car eased out of the driveway; a long flatbed truck filled to bursting with branches and bush cuttings. The wrought iron gate was open behind it, patiently waiting for the truck to clear so it could close. Claire arched her back and sank behind the brick wall.
The truck turned left, easing onto the main road, then picked up speed and disappeared.
Now was her chance. She stood, brushed off the rear of her skirt, and sucked in a steadying breath.
The iron gate slid across the driveway, closing with a loud clang.
Claire rushed to the gates. She wrapped her fingers around the cold, hard iron and pressed her body against the black vertical bars. Peering longingly ahead into the perfectly manicured garden, she cursed in a low whisper. She’d hoped to have had a little longer to sneak in, but she supposed that these rich folks needed to protect themselves.
Not that a stupid gate was going to stop her.
Somewhere nearby, she heard the sound of water sloshing. She searched the evergreen grounds, her eyes darting in all directions. Through the polished-glass of the front of the sprawling mansion, she could see into the backyard where the pool’s water glistened as it moved beneath the sunshine.
Still holding onto the gate, Claire craned her neck back and looked up to the very top of the closed and locked gates. They were decorated with spikes. The black spears spanned the entire length of the gates. Climbing over wasn’t an option.
Instead of getting upset, Claire searched for a plan B.
The home’s property was fenced in by a nine-foot stucco wall that offered nothing to grab onto or shove feet into. In the neighbor’s yard, she noticed a haggard tree. The branches were twisted and turned in on themselves several times over. It would be perfect for climbing. She let go of the gate, rushed past the stucco fence and around the corner. Stupidly, their neighbors hadn’t put much into security—their fence was made of mere four-foot wooden planks painted white. Claire swung her leg over the small picket fence then ran through their front yard, hunched down in an attempt to not be seen.
The tree was off to the side of the house, its gnarled roots peeking through the grass. She stopped just shy of the tree and gazed up at it, trying to throw herself back into her youth when scaling trees was an adventure rather than a risky chore. She put her right sneaker into a little nook in the bark about as high as her hip and extended her arms up toward the branches above. She counted to three, bouncing on her feet. On the third bounce, she lifted herself off the ground. Her right foot cemented into the tree and her hands gripping onto a low branch, she searched around for her next spot.
From there it was fairly easy. The tree was perfectly aligned with lots of thick, weight-bearing branches. She crouched down, ducking between the branches above, with her hands clutching at the wood to keep her steady.
Within a couple of minutes, she was perched in front of one of the branches that hung down above the pool. Claire wrapped both of her legs around the branch and shimmied across. A droplet of sweat trickled down her spine, cooling her skin along the way. Claire wasn’t unhealthy by any means, but climbing this tree was harder than she’d expected. Below her was the edge of the pool. If she dropped onto the tile there, she knew she might not make it out alive. Determined to get into the house, she shifted her body, swinging one leg over the branch, then lowering herself until she hung by her hands.
As she was about to drop into the pool, she remembered her phone was tucked into her skirt, wedged into place by the tight waistband. Her fingers were already slipping, slick with sweat, but if she dropped down now her whole social life would be wiped clean, gone.
Claire took a risk and reached her left hand down to her skirt. Fumbling for her phone, she felt her right hand starting to slip. Her fingertips brushed against the phone’s plastic case. Before she could get a hold of it, she was falling.
Claire barely had enough time to toss the phone toward the grass as a yelp burst from her mouth. Her body splashed into the water. Waves swarmed around her in a loud rush, pulling her under. The chlorine stung her eyes and filled her mouth. She waved her arms wildly and kicked her legs trying to surface.
Gasping and spluttering, she wiped her hands down her face and smoothed her hair out of her eyes. Turning around in the water, she searched for her phone among the grass. She located it with a sigh of relief where the stone path met the freshly cut grass.
Another wave of relief washed over her as she realized she’d made it over the fence and onto the mansion’s property.
Little Claire with her short skirts, thigh-high socks, and tight shirts had managed to break in.
***
It wasn’t any old mansion, she corrected herself, it was Vince’s mansion. Well, Vince and that bitch wife of his, Claire thought bitterly. She liked to gloss over that factoid whenever it popped into her head. Soon enough, Vince wouldn’t be with that old hag Lorelei. Soon he’d see the error of his ways and chase after Claire instead.
The idea of Vince pining for her made Claire’s legs go weak at the knees, suddenly struggling to keep her afloat. Vince was a fox—there was no other way to describe him. His brown hair was speckled with gray and his whole demeanor screamed wealth. Everything about him, from the suits he wore to the house he lived in, was pure luxury.
Why does that bitch get it?Claire paddled toward the pool ladder.Why does he spoil her with whatever she wants when I have to live at home with my mom?It’s not fair.The water cascaded off her body as she climbed out of the pool. Her sneakers squelched as she walked along the cream-colored path. The air was chilly against her bare skin, the wind whipping against her as she walked toward the grass where her phone rested.
Before she could grab it, though, she needed to dry off. She shook her hands and wrung out her white tank top that was now completely see-through. When she felt dry enough, she picked up her phone and checked it for cracks. As she turned it over in her hands, she saw that the entire front of the phone had been smashed. The screen had been obliterated despite the smash-proof case.
“Dammit,” she muttered under her breath.
Claire held her phone as she looked around, trying to find a way into the house without breaking a window. As much as she wanted to get inside, she didn’t want to break something and have the police called. After all, who knew how many powerful friends Vince had? He had the kind of wealth that allowed him to make people vanish without anyone asking questions. It was a scary thing to be playing around with.He won’t do that to me, though,she thought.Not once he sees how great I am—how great I am compared to his withered old wife.
Eventually, Claire found her way inside through one of the doors in the backyard. Someone had left it unlocked. Vince probably didn’t think anyone would scale a tree and drop into their pool just to have a peek into his home. Still, Claire had to tread carefully.
