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and she wouldn’t have picked someone who wasn’t a
professional.
“Not shower with you,” Claire bit out, nearly choking on
the words. They were bitter in her mouth. “Attend class with
you, yes.”
“He can’t do that! My professors will have a shit fit.”
“Then they’ll have a shit fit or you won’t attend. If you like,
I can contact them on your behalf.”
Haley looked at her incredulously. “And say what?”
“I’d give them a legitimate reason for you to have a
bodyguard with you. Some bullshit that they’d believe.”
“You’re giving them absolutely no credit.”
“I can’t see that it would be so bad to have him sitting in the
back somewhere, unnoticed. He’d like it, I’m sure. Listening
to you play.”
Haley’s mouth dropped, then snapped shut just as quickly.
Claire had been very thorough in her research, but they’d
already discussed that. It was adorable that Haley tended to
forget. “Do you have a piano?” Haley whispered.
Claire’s chest expanded with something foreign, a set of
emotions she didn’t want to feel. She was good at shutting that
down. She’d learned from the best, or rather, the worst. Her
father taught her so many lessons throughout her life. The best
way to stay alive and endure was to give him nothing at all.
Claire hated the shiver that clenched her, the sick feeling in her
gut. She didn’t want to think about her dad, so she didn’t. It
had been years since his death. She’d dealt with what he’d
done to her in healthy ways. Therapists and all that. She was
beyond that, and he was dead and that was all there was to
remember now.
