Page 42 of Twisted Lies

“I know I have a problem,” I reply pensively, “I have quite a few.”

“Is this a good time for you to come to my office?” Harmon taps her phone, and I nod. “Good. I’m going to teach you about the school. And I’m not referring to the crap in the handbook. I may not be rich, but I’ve been studying the rich for years. I plan to write a book. Are you taking your father’s name?”

I shrug. “I’m not supposed to have mentioned him and his demand. I’m still his nasty little secret.”

Harmon smiles and shakes her head. “I doubt he’ll be hiding you for long. This is a test, and maybe Charlotte wants to ensure that she’ll remain daughter number one.” Harmon leans toward me. “The first lesson: the wealthy don’t argue. They make demands, or they negotiate. Right now, they’re making demands on you. Have you made any back?”

I nod, thinking about Justin and the books. But so far, I’ve gotten little out of the deal. I think about Wyatt and what he said about picking the best. I still think he is the best.

“So, what do you do about Bryce Shelton?” she asks, but I sit there dumbly. “If it were me,” she continues, “I’d lead him on until he offered a ring, but I don’t think you want that. At least, not with him.”

“What do you think of Justin?” I ask.

“Justin wants his own fame and not his father’s,” she replies. “You may be attracted to him, but your birth will be a liability for him.”

“And Pierce?” I ask.

“Is immature,” she answers. “Atrocious jerk. He’s been a frat boy since birth. He needs to be taught a lesson, but I wouldn’t waste time on that one, Astrid.”

“But you would waste time on Wyatt?” I ask.

She folds her arms. “I’ve never taught him, but I can tell from his teachers that he’s decent. He hasn’t gotten over his father’s death. And I don’t think he ever will.”

We sit in silence for a moment, and I debate leaving. Suddenly, I think about those girls that only come to Stonehaven to chase a man. I better not fall into that trap. I have another question to ask before I leave.

“And how do you get money out of a tight fist to start a business?”

“You need people more than resources. What if you start a business, but the people aren’t in place? You have leverage over your dad, and you’re not using it.” She writes a few words on a piece of paper and hands it to me. On top, she has written ‘business expenses.’ “The best thing to do would be to figure out what you need and ask for a figure. Don’t wait around, hoping he’ll give it to you. Do you have a trust fund?”

I nod. “He told me I do.”

“Don’t be afraid to talk money when you have the figures.”

There’s a rap on the door, and I jump in my seat, nervous that someone might have been listening. I stand up, slowly folding the paper and slipping it into my blazer pocket. I don’t know how I will figure my new life out, but I have to. I don’t have a choice.

“Astrid, I’m here for you.” Harmon smiles. “Send the next one in.”

On my way out, I pass an open door and glance inside. Professor Getz is frowning at his laptop. I knock on the open door, and he immediately shuts the top.

“I thought your office was in the other building?” I ask.

He smiles. “It is, but I also have office hours here. Do you have any questions about the course?”

I hesitate, eyeing Prof Getz. The ever-increasing sum in the column under his name flashes in my mind. He owes the club 10K. He’s sweating. I can tell by the way his hand trembles on his computer.

I smile again. “No, just saying hi.”

I pass the gallery as Justin’s show is being dismantled. All the paintings are covered over in cloth except the one of Charlotte. Her image smiles coyly as I walk into the room. Stonehaven purchased the portrait to display on the second floor of the library, where many examples of student work are on display. Justin bends over a canvas bag filled with tools as he checks the ends of several screwdrivers for a Phillips-head. He glances over at me, but I don’t get the reaction I expect. He doesn’t look alarmed or shocked as I approach him.

“Did you see the video?” I ask.

He nods. “Bryce made sure I saw it. Astrid, I didn’t know about the cameras.”

“How can I trust that you didn’t?” I ask.

“Bryce isn’t sharing that video with anyone,” he replies, selecting a screwdriver. “Just as well. My father has enough sex tapes out there.”

I wince, choosing to believe that Justin was fooled as much as I was. “I should have known. They keep that place tightly guarded on the weekends, so why not during the week?”

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