Page 56 of Monster Among the Roses (Fairy Tale Quartet 1)

I opened my eyes to find Isobel watching me, her expression bleak.

She shook her head. “What do you mean?”

Glancing down at my hands, I began to pick at a piece of skin coming loose around a callus on my palm.

“I told you before, I originally went to your dad because of my mom, right?”

She nodded. “What? Is that not true?”

“No, it’s true,” I said. Then I drew in a deep breath and began my story.

“I went to him because she owed him money. He’d given her a loan for her bakery. I swear, she owed everyone money. I have no idea how a single person could rack up that much debt, but she kept it from me for as long as she could. By the time I learned about it, it was out of my control. I sold my truck, sold her house, sold most of our furniture. And it still wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. After I moved her in with me, she tripped on the stairwell outside my apartment. I live on the second floor, and they’ve always been steep steps. I wish I could’ve moved us somewhere safer, but I’d been working at Pestle.”

Isobel nodded in understanding. “But they went out of business,” she said for me.

“But they went out of business,” I repeated, nodding too. “Then Mom lost the bakery, and suddenly we were making no money, so I couldn’t afford to move us. And after she broke her hip, I had to be there for her almost every hour of the day. It took her a few months before she was able to get around on her own, enough for me to safely leave the apartment and look for work. But by then, pretty much everyone who’d been let go at the shoe factory had filled all the available jobs around. Bills kept coming in, the one from Nash Corporation included. Mom had talked about how she’d gotten to speak to Henry Nash personally when she was given the loan for her bakery—and he was the richest man I knew that I thought I might get to speak to in person—so I thought maybe he’d let me in to see him too.”

I paused to glance at Isobel, gauging her interest, her mood. For the most part, she seemed patient and not too upset.

But I knew that wouldn’t last. Fearing her ultimate reaction, I drew in a deep breath and dived back into my story.

“I was so desperate. You have no idea how desperate I was. When I was able to get a meeting with your dad, I thought…” I shook my head. “I’m not even sure what I thought. I’d worked so hard all my life only to fall into debt and poverty. It was humiliating and humbling. It stripped most of the pride right out of me.”

Wincing, I admitted, “I was ready to do anything to get out of this slump. And…well, I was sure someone as rich and powerful as Henry Nash had to be crooked at the core, that he had to have about a dozen undercover, black market, blackmailing deals going on with people. So I went to him to offer myself up as…as one of his thugs, I guess.”

Isobel blinked before a smile cracked her face. “Wait. You seriously thought my dad was crooked? Really?” She snorted before beginning to laugh outright. “Oh my God, that’s so funny. My mobster dad.” She laughed again.

I scowled. “It’s not funny. I mean, I didn’t know!”

“What the heck did you think he was going to say—‘Sure, I just met you but come be my evil minion henchman.’ Oh, Lord.”

She threw her head back, giggling so hard tears streamed down her cheeks. I sat there, brooding, and waited it out.

“I so wish I could’ve seen how that conversation went. How did you even ask such a question?”

I shrugged, feeling ridiculous for ever thinking Henry could be some kind of mob lord. “I just told him I’d do anything,” I muttered moodily.

No way was I going to tell her what I’d first feared he wanted from me when he’d hired me. She’d probably bust her gut right open from the power of her laughter.

Her brows wrinkled as she shook her head. “So…he just gave you a job?”

I sniffed. “In my defense, I was pretty damn convincing.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Pressing the back of her hand to her brow, she tried to mimic how dramatic she must’ve thought I had sounded. “Please, sir,” she wailed. “I’ll do anything.”

My face grew uncomfortably hot. “I got the job, didn’t I?”

She straightened, sobering. “You did,” she murmured thoughtfully. Then her face began to drain of color, and on a whisper, she said, “Yeah. You did. Why did you get the job?”

Realizing she’d caught on as to the why already, I sighed. “He didn’t tell me what he wanted me to do. He just gave me the address to Porter Hall and said to be here by nine the next morning. I had no idea what I was supposed to do; I showed up ready for anything. Absolutely anything. So when he told me he just wanted me to be the new handyman, I was relieved. You have no id

ea, Isobel. It felt as if I’d been pardoned from a death sentence and allowed to live after all. I still had no clue about anything other than being a handyman when the first place he sent me was the rose garden.”

I looked around me, breathing in the scent of her roses, and feeling sad for the first time since I’d come in here.

“Oh, God,” Isobel murmured, knowing exactly where this was headed. Pressing her hands to her face, she looked up toward the ceiling and gave a harsh laugh. “Of course he sent you to my roses. Where else would he send you?”

She was beginning to fall apart, so I talked faster. “He didn’t tell me anything about you, he just mentioned it was his daughter’s garden and he wanted me to keep your flowers in tip-top shape. But then you…you showed up, and you seemed so adamant that he should know you wouldn’t want anyone in there. I confronted him after you left his office.”

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