Page 37 of Retribution
‘You’re to go to class.’
‘I will go to class, but we’re half an hour early,’ I tell him. ‘Blame your boss for his lack of timekeeping skills. I’m getting a latte. Do you want anything?’
Might as well try to make an ally of him.
‘No,’ is all he says.
I open the door and see Lu sitting at a table by herself with a laptop. I frown at her as she lights up.
‘Marguerite!’ she gushes in an odd accent. ‘How lovely to meet you here before ourclazz togezer.’
I frown. Is she trying to be Italian, German, French, or a weird amalgamation of ‘Western European?’
‘And who do you bring? This mountain of amaaaan?’ she asks, looking past me.
‘This is Jacob,’ I say, not sure what to make of this. ‘He’s my…uh…bodyguard, I guess.’
She puts her hand out. ‘I am Marcie. MarcieVandersnatch. From Russia.’
Oh. She’s pretending to be Russian.
I almost can’t help the giggle that bubbles up from nowhere and I cough hard, covering my mouth. Oh my GOD! She’s Marcie, her alter ego she talked about in the hospital. I didn’t think she wasserious, but now I’m wondering why I didn’t know this was coming. Of course she was going to actually do it!
‘Are you all right?’ she asks me. ‘You are parched, yes? A latte for my friend!’ She half-yells at Janet who’s working behind the counter with a snap of her fingers.
‘Sure thing, Ms. Vandersnatch,’ Janet replies readily without a hint of irony, and I wonder how many people are in on this.
Lu looks up at Jacob and bats her eyes at him. ‘And for you, Mountain-I’d-Love-To-Climb?’
I glance back and see Jacob’s eyes widening.
‘Uh, no thank you, Ma’am,’ he stutters. ‘I’ll just sit over here so you two ladies can catch up.’
‘Oh,’ Marcie frowns, and I watch her eyes slowly move over him. ‘A pity.’
We go and sit in the corner.
‘Wow. He’s hot,’ she whispers in her normal voice.
‘I thought you were going to be a debutante from Boston,’ I murmur as Janet brings my latte over and Lu gives her a wink.
‘I wanted to practice my accent. There’s another play coming up and I have my heart set on the Russian part. How’d I do?’
‘Well, I’m pretty sure he thinks you’re Russian… and maybe that you want his bod.’
‘Idowant his bod. He’s sex on a motherfuckingstick! Think he has a decent ride?’
I roll my eyes. ‘Probably not a Miata.’
She lets out a displeased sound. ‘You’re probably right. Also, he works for Banderville, so he’s evil. Oh, hey, I brought this.’
She raises my backpack.
‘Where’d you get that?’ I squeal.
She replies loudly in her ‘Russian’ accent. ‘You leftdeesin my roomze ozernight when we study. So, I bring it to you.’
She quiets. ‘Blake gave me this, too. He had it dry-cleaned. Smelled of smoke.’
