AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why?”
She says nothing for a long time. Eventually she speaks. “This thing happened when I was in high school, and people hated me. Really hated me. Not normal hate but a certain incident got me a high level of hate all through that area. I didn’t do anything wrong, but…” She trails off. “It doesn’t matter. It was one of those things.”
Her story has the ring of truth, and I want to hear the whole thing, but I know instinctively that pressing for more will back her off. Is this where her tenaciousness came from? Is it why she chose to scam people out of their money? As a form of payback? There are times when she seems to have a grudge.
“It must have been…hard.”
“Alone and hated is a different country,” she says softly.
I watch, mesmerized, as she starts another round of gluing, positioning the branches at the angle of the good trees.
She’s silent for a while. Then, “Being hated, it’s like a burn. It keeps hurting long after. And little things that don’t hurt other people sting like hell. Sometimes even sunshine hurts. I don’t know why I’m telling you.”
I know why. Because being in this workshop together feels out of time. A break in the storm.
I shouldn’t be empathizing with her, shouldn’t be feeling this strange connection to her—subterranean. Like an underground stream, rushing between us.
She shoves the finished tree into a piece of foamcore and sets it next to the rest of the newly minted trees.
“Should we redo this light pole?”
“Probably,” I say.
She picks up the most torn, most damp one, strategizing.
I grab a flat of balsawood. “The long sticks are the hardest to cut. There’s a trick to it.” I grab a ruler and make two slim cuts, then work the piece off with my thumb.
Her bright eyes meet mine as I hand it over. It’s here I notice that her eyes aren’t just brown; they’re brown with bits of green in the cracks, like tiny shards of beer glass from different colors of bottles.
“What?” she asks.
I tear my gaze away from hers, struggling to tamp down the thundering of my heart. Grifter, I remind myself. Grifter grifter grifter.
The reminder steels me. We set up the rest of it.
“This looks good.” I kneel and inspect it from the ground the way I know Renaldo will.
She sets her hands on her hips. “You can’t even tell.”
I check it from another angle. “You can’t.”
“Are you going to tell me why it’s so important to have it right?” She’s been burning with curiosity about that.
“Nope,” I say simply.
“What? You’re just not going to tell me?”
“Hmm…” I press my lips together. “Nope.”
Her lips part. “Just nope?”
I shrug.
“Oh screw off. You think you’re so funny.” She folds her arms. “Henry. All eyes upon Henry, prince of all he sees. He’s New York’s most eligible bastard! He knows all your names and oh my god, he’s soooo funny.”
“What did you just call me?” I ask, biting back a smile.
“You heard me.”
