Page 20 of Vicious Temptation

Clara frowns. “You really think that’s going to happen? That your dad is just going to give up on making you marry someone and ‘build your family legacy’?” She says the last in a sarcastic imitation of my father’s voice, and I can’t keep from laughing, as much as the thought sends a queasy wave through my stomach.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Truthfully, no. I don’t think I’ll get out of it forever.” The admission twists the knot in my stomach tighter. This is a reprieve, not an escape. But even a reprieve is better than nothing. “Maybe he’ll find someone I don’t hate. Maybe?—”

I trail off, because deep down, I know that even if my father found someone tolerable, that doesn’t change everything else that’s wrong with me now. Things that no one wants to deal with. Things that my future husband won’t know about until after he’s said I do, and then I’ll bear the blame for keeping them quiet, when the truth is that my father would lose his mind if he thought there was a chance I’d be upfront about any of that with a potential husband.

But I can’t even bring myself to talk about it with Clara, so I don’t think there’s much danger of that.

“This is good for now,” I say firmly, trying to maintain my optimism. “I’ll be on my own for the first time. I’ll have a job. My life will be different, for a little while, at least. And maybe that’s all I’ll really need to be happy.” I say it with as much conviction as I can muster, wanting to convince myself as well as Clara. And although I know I’ll have to deal with my father’s wishes and all of the complications of my life later, for now, I just want to be happy about the reprieve that fate has thrown my way.

“Will I be able to come visit?” Clara cocks her head to one side, closing up the box of books and taping it shut. “I want to see this new place you’ll be living in.”

“I’ll ask,” I promise her. “And I’ll let you know. But I’m sure I’ll have time off, so I’ll still come see you, too. I’ll ask Gabriel about getting around. He drives himself places mostly, I think, but maybe he has a driver employed for the kids, or something like that. I’ll find all that out after I move in.”

Clara stands up, dusting her hands off on her jeans as she takes the last couple items of clothing I hand her and zips them in a garment bag, before turning back to look at me. There’s an odd expression in her blue eyes, and her usually teasing smile goes serious for a moment.

“I don’t entirely know what’s been going on since you came back from that wedding that fell through,” she says quietly. “And it’s been pretty clear to me that you don’t want to talk about it, so I didn’t want to push. You can tell me as much or as little as you want to, you know that. But I’m here for you, Bella. I want you to be happy. And all jokes aside, if this makes you happy right now, then I’m all for it.”

Tears spring to my eyes at that, and I give her a small, watery smile. “I think it’s going to be good,” I whisper, and Clara nods.

“You getting out of this house will be good. I definitely believe that.” She puts her arms out. “Hug?”

That, I can manage. I give Clara a quick, tight embrace, wiping my eyes as I pull back. “This is silly.” I laugh, shaking my head. “I’m only moving a few miles away. We’re acting like I’m going across the country.”

“Hey, this is a big deal! And I’m excited for you.” Clara glances at her phone. “They’re going to be here soon. Do you want me to hang out, or?—”

I shake my head. “I need to talk to my dad before I go. So it’s probably better if it’s just me.”

“Okay.” She flashes me another smile. “Text me once you settle in and tell me how everything is.”

“I will,” I promise.

Once Clara leaves, I push the handful of boxes and bags containing my things to the middle of the room, and head downstairs. My father is in his office, as usual, and I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans, glad for the heavy knit sweater I threw on.

“The movers will be here soon.” I don’t sit down, just pause halfway between the door and the chairs in front of his desk. We haven’t talked about the situation much, other than for me to tell him the morning after the dinner that Gabriel had offered me the job, and I accepted. Now, standing here on the cusp of leaving, I don’t really know what to say. I don’t know how he feels about all of this—about me essentially circumventing his plans for me. But Gabriel said that they discussed it first, and if my father hadn’t wanted me to take the job, I can’t imagine that he wouldn’t have just refused outright to let me go to the dinner.

“Do you need my help with anything?” He looks up, and I shake my head, pushing my hands deeper into my pockets.

“I don’t think so. I think they’re just going to—grab everything.”

“I’ll tell the driver to take you to Mr. Esposito’s home. Unless you and he have made other arrangements?” My father looks at me, his gaze turning shrewd, and I wonder if he’s hoping for the same outcome that Clara has teased me about. That my living with Gabriel will lead to something happening between us.

I feel a fresh wave of relief, knowing that he isn’t thinking that. That both Gabriel and I are equally uninterested in any outcome that involves marriage. At least, even if my father is angling for that, I know that the man I’ll be living with isn’t. It gives me an odd sort of feeling of camaraderie with Gabriel.

The front door opens, and I hear the sound of the movers. “I should—go tell them where to go to get my things.” I bite my lip, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, waiting for my father to say something. To give me some indication of how he feels about the whole situation.

But he just nods. “Alright then. Let me know once you’re settled in. Or Mr. Esposito will. Either way.”

I stare at him for a moment, caught off guard by his dismissal. My father has never been an emotional man, so it’s not as if I expected tears and hugs from him. But I had thought there would be something more than this brush-off.

I’m almost certain that it’s because he’s upset that I’m going to work for Gabriel instead of following through on the engagement that he wanted for me. But he agreed to it, so I don’t know why.

I hesitate for a moment, wondering if he’s going to say anything else, but he’s already gone back to his paperwork. So I slip out of the room, feeling an ache in my chest that dulls the excitement I felt before.

But the alternative to this was to marry another man I don’t know. I can’t do that, now more than ever.

By the time I make it back to the foyer, the movers are carrying out the last of my things. My phone buzzes, and I see a text from Derrick, telling me that he’s bringing the car around. My stomach tightens, and I feel a flood of anxiety.

I want to do this. This is going to be good. Just because it’s scary doesn’t mean it’s not good.

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