Page 15 of Reckless Temptation

I couldn’t tell my dad the truth that I was picked on because of him or who we were. Being poor was one thing. The fact that I was at this university at all was a “grudge” from the other students who viewed my getting a scholarship as an excuse or a favor. Like I couldn’t belong there without the money to pay for it myself.

I couldn’t admit to him that my peers judged me as “trash” because he was a garbage collector. His job was a decent one. A solid one. He wasn’t beneath anyone else in society, dammit.

“I tripped,” I lied.

It would break my heart if my parents ever knew how poorly I was treated.

Turn the other cheek.

In one ear and out the other.

I had to stick with those mottos.

I refused to let them get to me.

“Tripped?” He arched one brow, skeptical.

“Yes. I was hurrying and I just…” I shrugged, then mimed something falling flat.

“You never hurry.”

Dammit. I can’t lie to him.

“I was today. Elise and I were getting lunch, taking too much time talking about the internship I want to try to get.” That part was the truth.

“Oh, there’s notryingabout it.” He got up, smiling. “You are successful no matter what you put your mind to, Sabrina.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I could always count on him for a vote of confidence. But tonight, I needed peace and quiet to redo my paper for Professor Angus.

He got the message that I was deep into study mode, not participating in much small talk. Because I didn’t want to walk up the stairs to my studio room above the garage yet, I stayed in the kitchen to catch up on what I lost until Mom came home.

“Can you help me with tonight’s catering?” she asked, rushing in to change just to leave again. “Sorry, John. You two are onyour own for dinner tonight. Babs offered me a spot with this gig tonight, with double pay, so I’m taking it.” She turned a hopeful smile to me at the table, then cringed at the sight of all my papers and books, some still damp.

“Not tonight, Mom. Sorry.” I hated that I couldn’t help her. I could get more tips for her, and since I would be paid under the table as a last-minute aid, it was more money to put toward the house.

“Bah. You’re always studying away,” she said, rushing to get ready to go.

I wanted to help. I worried that she was stressing herself out and stretched too thin with all the hours she put in. We were all working as much as we could with trying to fix the house. Not one, but two hurricanes, put us behind in renovations and fixing what was damaged. And that didn’t touch on the losses we suffered when someone looted in the neighborhood and stole our valuables, trashing the house all over again after the recent storm.

After she left, though, that was what Dad told me.

“Sabrina, you are working too much,” he said gently as he warmed up leftovers for us.

“No, it’s manageable.” Or itwasmanageable before those bullies decided to push me into the water. “I just need to buckle down and redo this paper.”

He frowned at me from the stove. “Redo?”

Crap.

“Um. Yeah, I didn’t do it correctly the first time. I’m glad I caught my mistakes before the due date tomorrow.”

He furrowed his brow. “Hmm. That doesn’t sound like you.”

I sighed, taking slight offense at that because it sounded so much like what Elise had told me at lunch. That going for the Lorsen & Spengler internship didn’t sound like me. That it didn’t represent who I was and what I stood for.

“Just a little snafu,” I assured him, hating Tiffany that much more. It was Rachel’s boyfriend who’d pushed me, but I knew it was Tiffany’s doing. She made them do her dirty work for her.

Redoing this paper would take me all night, but after I ate with Dad, I told him that I’d need to go to the library to finish it. “Tonight’s going to have to be an all-nighter,” I explained.

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