Page 52 of On Thin Ice

The rest of the weekend was a whirl. I didn’t get to read any of the journal because I spent my time researching ballet, particularly its performance and etiquette when attending. I didn’t want to come off as an ignorant hick—especially since I’d have to be in the presence of Augustus Whittier II, Sinclair’s father.

When I spoke to my dad over the weekend, once or twice I was tempted to tell him about what was coming, who I’d be meeting—but I didn’t want my father’s emotions to become dark or depressed, because I didn’t want his mood affecting his health. If I were going to do anything to the eldest Whittier, I’d have to share that with my father after the fact.

For now, I needed to keep him optimistic about his appointment in October, now only weeks away.

After pondering it for most of the weekend, I decided it would be best to put off any thoughts of revenge. I had never met Sinclair’s father—so this initial meeting would be like reconnaissance. I had to observe my enemy and then come up with a strategy.

I had another thought as well. When I’d first arrived in Sinclair’s mansion, he had been on the phone, telling his father about the Miller girl he’d brought home to serve him. Did his father know I would be Sinclair’s date? Would I be tormented by his entire family?

But, if that were the case, why go to the trouble of taking me to the ballet?

Sinclair didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives other than really wanting me to be his date—and the events of the week seemed to prove it.

Monday morning started off much like it usually did…except Sinclair told Edna his plans. He’d already informed her by the time I came downstairs, so I wasn’t sure exactly what he’d said—but when I poured a cup of coffee, Edna said, “The ballet, eh? I know you’ll enjoy it, dear.”

“Have you ever been?” I asked.

“Once or twice. The Whittiers sometimes give tickets as a gift. The Nutcracker is probably my favorite.”

It was good to know Edna might be able to give me answers I couldn’t find online—and if she suspected there was anything else going on between Sinclair and me, her face and tone of voice didn’t indicate it.

Still, when I sat down to breakfast, Sinclair winked at me—and I couldn’t do anything other than grin back.

Edna called me from the top of the stairs around two o’clock that afternoon, long after my eagerness had calmed, settling into the background of my brain so I could focus on work.

But I immediately perked up as I took the stairs heading to the main floor. “He’s waiting for us in the great room.”

The great room? I couldn’t recall either Edna or Sinclair showing me such a room—and I didn’t believe I’d stumbled across it—before this. But I simply nodded and followed her down the west rear hallway—past the kitchen on the left, the dining room and beverage nook on the right, as well as the small laundry and cleaning room. On the left was a final door that was open, but I’d never looked inside.

Which I found odd, considering all the other snooping I’d done.

But both the east and west rear hallways ended with doors leading to different garages and I’d never thought about much in between. After all, there was the kitchen and it had no windows except for a skylight in the ceiling. I’d known then that the back half of the mansion was only one story—while the front, the part that was seen by people driving and walking by, was grand, majestic…and so I’d never thought much about the back part, because there wasn’t as much to see.

Or so I’d thought.

The great room was breathtaking, with a huge skylight overhead that would have allowed sunlight to stream in and flood the room—but the skies today were gray, and it had been raining most of the day. There was also a bank of glass at the top of the south wall to the ceiling—and I knew if I’d had a ladder to look out of them that I would have seen the roof to the garages. Even with all the windows, the skies were dark, not giving much light. But that didn’t stop this room from shining in its own brilliance. On both the left and right side of the skylight hung two beautiful chandeliers, but my eyes were drawn to everything in the room, accented in white and gold. In the middle was an arrangement of furniture around a large square coffee table. In here on the walls there were several pieces of art, but I noticed that they hung on the south wall where they’d be guarded against sunlight.

On the north wall there was a television and sound system, bookshelves, and the biggest fireplace I’d ever seen—but it was obvious this room was never used. Not just because I’d never seen it but there was a feeling of stillness here, of the pillows on the sofa never being used to lie or rest on. Like the second floor of the east wing, this room felt forgotten. Even the two large books artfully positioned on the coffee table felt neglected and old. One was a book about the Titanic while the other was about trees.

I didn’t have much more time to take things in as a thin man with a thinner black mustache entered the room, several gowns draped over one of his arms. For just a moment, he had a confused expression and quickly said, “You’re not Natasha.”

As if this whole thing hadn’t felt weird and foreign enough. “No, I’m Lise.”

He nodded. “Marco. Edna has told me that I need to find a gown you like for an upcoming event. Don’t worry if something doesn’t fit. If you like it, I’ll alter it so that it’s perfect for you.”

Meanwhile, I was wondering who Natasha was.

Marco removed a long dress from underneath a cloth cover—and I nearly lost my breath. It was pure black—long, sleek, and sleeveless, but I wouldn’t be able to tell much simply looking at it, other than it looked elegant. Marco said, his dark brown eyes lit up in amusement, “Try this on.”

I took the dress and decided I’d go to the nearest bathroom on the west side of the main hallway before Edna touched my elbow. “There, dear.” With her other outstretched hand, she indicated a screen in the northeast corner of the room that I hadn’t noticed because of everything else in the space. So I nodded and walked across the room, also noticing for the first time that there was another door on the east side which no doubt led into the rear hallway on that side.

Quickly, I removed my jeans and blouse, trying to decide the best way to get the dress on. I decided that it would be logical to step into it. It wasn’t until I put my feet inside the skirt and pulled it up that I realized there were no zippers. Instead, it was form-fitting. Fortunately, it wasn’t too snug but it did fit like a glove. Down the back was a ruffle and a bow on top while my back was completely bare. My gray tennis shoes didn’t show under the bottom of the dress or I would have taken them off—and, before I stepped out, I removed my bra so it wouldn’t ruin the illusion.

Considering I usually wore a bra…I felt weird without it.

But I stepped out from behind the screen and Edna gasped. “That dress looks like it was made for you.”

Thank goodness for Edna. Instantly, I relaxed. “Thank you.”

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