Page 34 of B & E Ever After (Fairy Tale Quartet 3)

“We have to get everything out of sight before she walks back here,” he went on as if I didn’t already know that.

Even though he had a point, I rolled my eyes, hating it when people stated the obvious to me. But, “Fine,” I muttered, tossing him the can of chicken noodle soup so abruptly he had to fumble to catch it. “Just so you know, though, I think I might hate you.”

“You and a million others,” he answered distractedly as the soup disappeared inside his jacket without a trace. “Now open the saltines. We’ll have to divide that between the two of us.”

I wanted to deny him so bad—out of spite—but since it was the very same idea I’d had too, I settled for snarling, “That’s what I was going to do.”

Ripping the box open, I glared his way and watched him straighten the sleeves of his jacket as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

Bastard.

“Here.” I shoved half the saltines his way.

Jaw hard and eyes narrowed with disdain, he mirrored my expression as he took them and tucked them up his jacket sleeves. I followed suit, hiding my two stacks of crackers inside the baggy arms of my hoodie.

“What about the trash sack and empty cracker box?” I said when I realized it would probably be bad to leave them behind in the closet for his mother to find later.

“Give them here.”

I handed everything over without a word, and he worked quickly to flatten the empty box of saltines and then wad the bag into a ball before he lifted the tails of his suit jacket and tucked them both into the back of his pants. He’d just lowered the jacket back into place, when a voice barked from the opening of the closet.

“What the hell is taking so long?”

I sucked in a surprised gasp, while the man stepped in front of me as if to shield me from his mother. Protecting me.

“I was trying to talk her into a quickie,” he answered smoothly. “But she was resisting.”

He really did know exactly what to say to needle a person most. It made me realize he’d purposely turned so rude to me a moment ago because he knew it would erect that wall between us again and conceal the person he didn’t want me to see he was.

It was as if the man actually preferred to have people dislike him.

“Just get out of my apartment,” his mother snapped, glaring. “I don’t like it when you show up uninvited.”

“Of course.” Reaching behind him, he snagged my hand, knowing exactly where it was without looking. “And as always, it was simply lovely to see you again.”

She snorted as he began to pull me from the room. But when the woman turned her glare my way, she blinked in surprise and held up a hand.

“Wait a second.” She stepped in front of us as she pointed at my face, then took in my hoodie and yoga pants I was wearing. “You’re that insolent maid.”

I wrinkled my nose. “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not. I tried to tell you I wasn’t a maid, but you—”

The woman dismissed me and whirled toward her son. “You weren’t with her when I opened the door and found her loitering in the hall earlier.” She sounded accusative.

He shrugged before smoothly answering, “I had to stop by the bathroom first. She was waiting for me outside your door when you opened up and accosted her with your carpet-cleaning demands.”

The apartment’s owner narrowed her eyes and sliced a suspicious glance between the two of us. She seemed to be thinking too hard, trying to find holes in our story, and it probably wouldn’t take long before she bumped across a couple dozen of them, so the man said, “But since you refuse to help us and lend a dress, we’re leaving now.”

“But—”

“Thanks for nothing,” he added, dragging me past her and out of the closet, through the bathroom and bedroom, then down the bright, white hall and into the front room.

A relieved breath hissed from me as soon as he reached for the

handle to the exit. We were going to make it. Freedom was on the other side of that door, and the woman behind us would never be the wiser to the fact that we’d just stolen from her. Well, I had stolen, but her son was most definitely assisting me.

The man pulled the door open, and we both surged forward, only to lurch to a halt when we found our way blocked by a maid who stood there with a cleaning caddy in one hand, and her other raised, poised to ring the bell.

Eyes widening, she tripped backward away from us, immediately apologizing. “I—I’m so sorry. Is this a bad time? I can come back later.”

---