Page 55 of The Suit

“Beulah?” I asked again.

“I can’t believe you grew up here,” she said softly, in a tone that wasn’t disbelief or judgement. It wasn’t reverence or awe; I couldn’t place it, but it reached down to the pit of my gut and twisted hard.

I’d never flaunted my family wealth, but I’d never hidden either; though it was one of the reasons I had such a tight knit group of implicitly trusted friends. It had been a while since someone new had been invited into it, and now, two weeks in, Beulah had not only stayed over at my apartment, but she was standing in one of my childhood bedrooms, even if it had been redecorated and the posters of Eva Mendes and Sarah Michelle Geller removed.

Her eyes were still slightly red and puffy from when she’d been crying. I wanted to ask why she’d been at the hospital but I knew she wouldn’t tell me, so instead, I took her hands. “Come on, let me show you the bathroom. You can have a shower or bath, or whatever. Then while you’re doing that I’ll go and open some wine, and we can sit by the pool. Unless you want to go swimming, or for a walk on the beach?”

“A shower would be perfect,” she said, although when I showed her in, she gave the enormous tub such a glance of longing it made my dick thump.

“Sure you want a shower?” She nodded, so I turned the faucets on for her. “There you go. Help yourself to anything.”

“Rafe..?”

I glanced back as I was leaving, “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

I didn’t have time to respond withyou’re welcomebefore she slammed the door in my face.

Charming.

Next stop, my sisters’ wardrobes, starting with Amory, seeing as she was a similar size.

I knew my sisters kept summer beach clothes here, along with anything else they might need. I also knew they had learned how to shop from our mother, and it was more than likely they’d also had any store they shopped at deliver an entire wardrobe worth of purchases to the house they were intended for, so I was fairly certain I was about to raid a closet of clothes with the labels still attached.

I hit the jackpot, including an array of swimwear that I’d much rather see Beulah in than my sister any day of the week. I picked a couple of bikinis, plus some one pieces that weren’t offensively covering up everything worth seeing and threw them in a bag, then started on therest; a couple of pairs of shorts, a few T-shirts, and some of those long floaty dress things that were more like colorful sacks than fashion, plus underwear my sister had no business wearing.

Five minutes later I was done and wondering why it took women so long to shop.

Steam was creeping through a gap at the bottom of the bathroom door when I walked back into my bedroom, tempting me to join her, but there’d be plenty of time for that later. Instead, I laid the selection out on my bed for her to choose from, then knocked to let her know, receiving absolutely no response in return.

I threw on a pair of shorts, then ran down to the main kitchen, skidding to a halt when I spied Cynthia with a look she usually reserved for Rory.

“What?”

“I know where I’ve seen that poor girl before.”

I opened the fridge to assess the state of available alcohol we had on hand. “Poor girl? You’re thinking of someone else, she’s never been here before. And I’d hardly refer to her as a poor girl.”

Although I was less inclined to keep referring to her as devil spawn; it was starting to feel inappropriate seeing as I’d been inside her.

I counted out the different bottles; yep, I needed to stock up.

“I didn’t say she had,” she shot back. I glanced over and watched as she reached down behind the counter and lugged the original dartboard onto the countertop. “This is her.”

Fuck, I’d forgotten about that one. Even though she’d seen the new one, I didn’t think it would help in any way if she saw this too.

I rolled my lips into a straight line, and slowly shut the fridge door with the good sense to look marginally ashamed. “Don’t suppose you could dispose of that for me?”

“Mmm hmmm. I think that’s for the best. I’ll give it to Edward to deal with,” she tutted.

Yes, brilliant idea. I’d have thought of that if I’d remembered that I’d had it, and also hadn’t brought Beulah home on a whim. Yes, Edward, the groundskeeper, would probably use it as firewood.

“You’re the best.” I kissed her cheek “Is Pierre downstairs? I want to go to the cellar.”

“Yes, he is. He’s stocked up for you this weekend too.”

She laughed as my eyes lit up at that news. “What would I do without you?”

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