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“Therewould’ve been anarchy if word got out about us.”
“Jailtimesurpasses the shame of sleeping with your enemy, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Imeant anarchy for you.Yourrelatives wouldn’t take kindly to us sleeping together, and you’d never be considered forCEO.Iunderstand you’re currently a shoo-in.”
“Lastnight was the first time you even looked my way.Whatinterest is my career to you?”
“Itold you.Lastnight was something else.Don’tpretend you didn’t feel it, too.”
Asexpected,Poppyremained unconvinced.Sheassumed my interest stemmed from the thrill of sleeping with my enemy.Shewas partially correct.Therewas a thrill of getting away with it under everyone’s noses, but there was more. “Webarely know each other,” she argued.
“Whatwould you like to know?”
“YouandCadenwent to boarding school inSwitzerland.Why?”
Ilaughed. “That’swhat you want to know about me?”
Sheshrugged. “Itwas the only thingIcouldn’t find out about you.”
Inodded. “Notmany people know about it.CadenandIwanted to leave the country, andSwitzerlandhad the best schools in the world.Whatabout you?Whydid you attend boarding school?”Poppywas expelled from two schools for notoriety before graduating from high school at fourteen.Besidesmy time outside the country, she knew my entire track record, too.Westill performed the practiced choreography as if we hadn’t obsessively researched the person pitted against us, unearthing every detail about them.
“Ipreferred an academic setting.Stayingat home was distracting me.”
“Distractingyou from what?”
“Frommy goals.Iwanted to graduate from high school as soon as possible.”Sheallowed me to focus on her briefly before shooting back with, “Whydid you and your brother attend boarding school outside the country?”
Ifrowned, calculatingPoppy’seasy stance. “BecauseIhated being here afterMompassed away.Sheused to be the buffer between us andDad.Incase you haven’t noticed, my father is an idiot.”
Thecomment bredPoppy’sinfamous semi-smirk.Itknocked the wind out of me whenever she looked remotely optimistic.Tonight’sgoal was to purge her bias against theMaxwells.So,Itackled a matterIshould have addressed years ago and gave her words that didn’t exist in theMaxwelldictionary.
“I’msorry for what he did to your mom.”
Poppyneither acknowledged nor dismissed the point of contention igniting this ugly feud.Shetilted her head and returned the apology, “Ithink we are even.Ambanisinflicted a lot of damage, too.Wehold monthlyD.M. meetings.”
“D.M.?”
“DestroytheMaxwells.”
Ichuckled.
“Whatabout you guys?Doyou hold monthly meetings to bring us down?” she asked indifferently, looking out over the courtyard.
“No.Wedo it weekly.”
Thelatest remark earned me a half smile, a truly rare sight.
“Anymore questions?”Iprobed.
“Justone more.”Shelooked back at me. “Whyare you risking everything for me?”
“BecauseIhaven’t been able to stop thinking about you since last night.”Imoved toward her as if the choice to do anything else had been taken away. “Andbecause you’ve been driving me crazy since we met.It’smadness.”Onemore step forward. “Andone can’t explain madness.”
Poppystepped back instinctively, her expression guarded. “Irecommend snapping out of this madness before it becomes a full-blown infatuation.”
“Toolate.”
Alltraces of apathy vanished fromPoppy’sface.Sherecovered swiftly and slipped back on the impassive mask. “Treadcarefully,Maxwell.I’mnot infatuation material.I’mcold and indifferent.Ifyou died tomorrow,Iwouldn’t shed a single tear.NotbecauseIdon’t want to but because my brain isn’t wired that way.Ican’t love or express emotions, andIhave nothing to offer you.”
