Page 46 of Cruelest Contract
“What’s that?”
“Remember that you are far better than all of them put together.”
The sudden sting behind my eyes warns that tears aren’t far behind. I haven’t been lucky in many areas of my life but whatever power of the universe gave me Alice as a best friend has my undying gratitude.
She blows me a kiss before hanging up.
With Alice’s supportive words fresh in my mind, I conduct a quick mirror check.
I look fine. I’m wearing a short sleeve white buttoned blouse with one of my favorite skirts; a summery, flowing maxi festooned with large peonies. Simple pink flats are on my feet.
I really do look fine. It’s a very typical, pretty outfit that I’d wear anywhere. To work. To the bookstore. To a bar. Alice would call it Cecilia Couture.
My eyes dart to the pen on the desk. Pink with pictures of strawberries along the shaft.
The reason Julian can read me so effortlessly is because I make it easy for him.
I’m already unbuttoning the blouse as I walk to the closet where I hung most of my clothes to smooth out the suitcase wrinkles. The dress I’m looking for is in the middle of the rack and it stands out because it’s so different from the rest of my wardrobe.
A moment later, I’ve hastily changed and returned to the mirror. The new ankle-length dress is sapphire blue, an impulse purchase when I was shopping with Alice. The chiffon fabric flows with seductive ease and the slit up the right side shows off some leg while still hiding the scars on the left. The ribbed elastic bodice flatters my figure and the ruffled sleeves can be worn on the shoulder or off.
Feeling daring, I slide the sleeves down, revealing bare shoulders and a noticeable amount of cleavage, which isn’t my usual style.
A brief flicker of hesitation is dismissed. A moment ago I looked satisfactory. Now I look sexy.
After running a brush through my long hair and adding small diamond stud earrings, my Gemini necklace and a dash of lip gloss and mascara, I’m ready with a couple of minutes to spare. The last thing I do is slide my boots on.
Naturally, the person I enjoy running into the least is trotting up the stairs while I’m heading down.
Getty Tempesta pauses as we pass each other. A spark of hungry interest flares in his eyes as he looks me over. For a second I think he’s about to say something nice.
Just as quickly, his appreciative stare turns cynical. “Tell the boys I’ll be down shortly,” he says. “And try not to miss me too much.”
“No chance of that,” I mutter and lift my foot to take the next step down.
The long hem of my dress catches on the toe of my boot. I make a flailing grab for the railing, instantly sure that I’m about to take a wild tumble.
Luckily, Getty’s reflexes are virtually supernatural. A muscular arm shoots in front of me and I find myself hanging onto him like he’s a life preserver.
Getty leans in until I can feel the vibration of his dark chuckle on my neck. “You’ve got to be more careful around here,” he says.
I cringe away from him and grip the railing.
Getty lets me go and starts whistling as he nonchalantly climbs the rest of the stairs.
Some songs never go out of style no matter how old they are.Every Breath You Takeis one of them. Funny how I never fully appreciated how creepy and stalkerish the lyrics are until now, when I hear the tune coming from him.
Maybe I’m overreacting.
Getty is weird and often a bit sinister but he’s never made a threat. And he did just save me from the humiliating prospect of falling down the stairs.
He likes attention. That’s all. Ignore him and he’ll find something else to do.
The enticing smell of Italian cooking permeates the first floor. Every meal I’ve eaten here so far has been outstanding. The Tempestas clearly don’t skimp when it comes to kitchen staff. The household chef, Enzo, is an erratic, nervous fellow with a streak of white hair. He’s rarely seen outside of the huge gourmet kitchen at the back of the house.
The soft light of early evening pours in through high windows and adds some cheer to the dark interior. My initial impression of the main house was full of rustic, eerie gloom. After staying here for a few days, I’ve revised my opinion.
The huge house is imposing but it also feels like a real family home. Today a tall vase has been added to the round table in the foyer. The colorful heads of tulips, all of them resembling mouths puckered for a kiss, peek out of the top.
