Page 51 of On Thin Ice

Eager to fill my belly, I cut off a corner of the omelet he’d made me, putting it in my mouth and chewing. I tasted cheese first, followed by sautéed bell pepper and onion and bits of ham. “You said this is a Denver omelet?”

“Yep. Sometimes it’s made without cheese, but I had a hell of an appetite this morning—and I imagine you did too.”

Did I ever. I probably could have eaten a dozen eggs, I was so hungry. “It’s good—but I expected something fancier.”

Sinclair laughed. “Does Denver feel fancy to you?”

Smiling, I shook my head—but I wasn’t about to tell him that Denver often felt foreign to me. I had yet to experience the whole city, only being exposed in bits and pieces. Here in the mansion—and even in our walks through the neighborhood, I was sheltered from much of the real urban experience.

So I carefully answered his question. “Not really—but I guess I expected more. I think my dad accidentally made a Denver omelet once or twice.”

“So you’re not impressed.”

Shaking my head, I swallowed another bite. “I didn’t say that!”

Nodding, Sinclair looked up from his plate, already half empty. “Have you ever been to the ballet?”

His question threw me completely off until I realized it might simply be a response to my fancy comment moments ago. “No,” I admitted. I’d only seen snippets of ballet—on television and YouTube—but it wasn’t like I’d sought it out.

“Would you like to?”

My answer was a knee-jerk response but completely honest. “Of course, I would. At least once.”

“I’m glad you said yes because I need a date a week from Friday.”

Wait. Was I understanding this right? He wanted me to be his date—publicly?

Swallowing, I didn’t say another word…because surely I had misunderstood.

But he kept talking, probably unaware that I wasn’t keeping up. “I’ll have my tailor over on Monday so he can fit you with something appropriate.”

Now my brain kicked in—and I had so many questions. “None of my dresses would work?”

“They might—but I want you to look like a million bucks.”

“Where will it be? Should I study anything beforehand? What should I know about it before—”

His smile covered his face as he interrupted me. “I know you’re excited, Lise—but maybe you should manage your expectations.”

“What do you mean?”

“The entire Whittier family will be there…and I suspect you’ll be even less thrilled than I’ll be.”

It felt like a cold, hard slap. The entire Whittier family? I didn’t know what exactly that meant or how many people his phrase encompassed…but I imagined that included his father, the man who’d ruined my family’s entire life.

If exposed to that man, would I be able to bite my tongue?

Or would I be able to use that opportunity to exact the perfect revenge?

As my brain continued to process, I focused on the food I could no longer taste. Sinclair, however, kept talking, not realizing my conundrum. “But I hope you’ll like it. Edna’s told me more than once that the ballet was my mother’s favorite thing to do outside the house—other than tennis. She didn’t go to the movies or music concerts and she apparently wasn’t a fan of opera…but she went to every single ballet that came through Denver—with or without dear old dad.”

There was no way I could miss the sarcasm as he spoke about his father…which led me to believe that maybe Sinclair and I weren’t so different.

Maybe we both despised his father.

But, of course, it was far more complicated than that.

Chapter 19

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