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I don t know, I admitted, We haven t talked about it. We re dating and he told me his feelings once, so we might be getting serious. I shrugged as though it didn t matter. But it did. A lot. I wanted serious. Ever since meeting him it had become one of my favorite words. Might be? She snorted. If a guy talks feelings after you ve had sex, he wants to be with you. There s no doubt about that. I guess, I muttered. Something in my tone made her tilt her head. Maybe I didn t come across as enthusiastic or confident as one would expect. Does he know how you feel about him? Sylvie asked. Staring at the sparkling blue water, I shook my head. Why? What s the problem? I smiled grimly. Sylvie and I were so close and yet opposites. She knew a bit about my past and I about hers, but she denied everything she d rather keep buried. How could I explain to her my rules about love and relationships without going into detail about what drove me to think that way? To love someone so deeply is to risk losing yourself forever. Once I admitted my feelings to him, there was no going back no hope to ever make my heart complete without him. He s amazing, but I hesitated, my throat constricting at the thought of a future together. I want to be with him but sometimes when I see him, I feel like I m standing on a cliff, knowing there is no way to go but down. I bit my lip, pondering how much I could say without giving too much away. Right now I m happy with how things are. It s going great. The way I see it Jett doesn t need to know how I feel. Sylvie smiled and squeezed my hand. Sweetie, love s meant to be shared. Maybe it won t last forever. But who cares? Every story has an ending. You can t stop after one chapter just because you don t know how it ends. If you love him, you should at least give it a chance. What s worse than loss? Regret, I whispered, thinking back to all the times she had drilled into me just how great of a bitch regret was and why I should take risks rather than live in my safe bubble. You re right. I know that. Do you? Her brows shot up. I did. And yet the demons inside my head kept roaring. They were the ones who kept telling me it wouldn t end well. It hadn t for my parents. Nor Jett s parents. Nor Sylvie s. Why would I encounter a different fate? Think about it, Sylvie said gently. Nodding, I fought back the moisture gathering in the corners of my eyes and decided to change the topic. Has Clarkson called? Sylvie shook her head and squeezed into her clothes cropped jeans and an oversized tee that fell off her shoulder. No, but a letter arrived this morning. I left it on the kitchen table. It s the financial reports you requested. Wanna have a look at them now? I wanted to ask how she knew what the letter contained, but decided against it. Sure. I ve turned into a lobster anyway. As we returned to the house I noticed the dark clouds gathering in the distance. The soft breeze from before turned into a strong gust blowing up the leaves, and the air carried the scent of oncoming rain. It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago the air had been so hot it had reminded me of a desert. We entered through the backdoor and I locked it behind us. I scanned the kitchen area. It looked spotless, like Sylvie didn t use it, which was strange because she usually ordered portions that could feed a family of four and didn t gain a pound. Maybe she had been too worried to eat. The thought ignited my guilt again. Did anything happen last night? I asked. Any strange phone calls? She shot me an inquisitive look. No, it was pretty quiet here. I had never been so happy to hear she had a quiet night in. It almost made the car chase seem surreal. Did you really call the police? I asked, grinning. Yeah. They told me I had to wait forty-eight hours before I could fill in a missing person s report. That pissed me off big time, but other than that Sylvie shook her head. Nothing happened. She blinked a few times, irritated. I placed a sloppy kiss on her soft cheek. Ever since we moved to New York City, Sylvie and I had a code that if one of us didn t get in touch before ten a.m. the next morning, that would be a red call that something happened. Even though she received the text and shouldn t have worried, I appreciated her concern. I m so sorry. I promise I won t do that to you again, I whispered. You d better not, Brooke, because you scared the crap out of me. The tremble in her voice didn t go unnoticed. Those are the papers. Looks like there s a lot to go through. She pointed to the large yellow folder and headed for the coffee machine. I watched her fill the filter and add water, then opened the folder and was instantly overwhelmed by the countless sheets covered by numbers and yet more numbers. Even though I knew my way around basic accountancy, I had never glimpsed into the accounts of an estate as big as this one. As far as my amateur eye could see though, the numbers looked legit and the taxes paid. They look okay to me. I closed the folder again. Sylvie placed a cup of hot coffee in front of me and sat down. Can I see them? Sure. Given that she had a degree in business to show off and had worked in an accountancy firm until recently, I was more than happy to oblige. I handed her the folder and took a sip of my coffee, almost burning my tongue in the process. Sylvie began flicking through the papers. What do you think? I asked her, inching closer. Two minutes passed and she didn t reply. The silence was making me nervous, so I bumped her leg under the table. Sylvie? Sorry? She frowned but didn t look up. Did you say something? Is something wrong? I laughed to compensate for the worry in my voice. There s no debt. She looked up, her baby blue eyes searching mine. So that s a good thing then, right? Her grimace didn t quite manage to erase my unease. Maybe it was the way she clutched at the papers. Or maybe it was the way her eyes kept darting across one particular page, as though her findings rattled her. But something told me things weren t as clear as they had seemed to me. There s something wrong, isn t it? I asked. She held up a hand, her face scrunched up in concentration as she pulled three papers in front of her, discarding the rest, and started to compare them. I didn t like the look on her face. My heart began to beat fast. I walked around the table and leaned over her shoulder, trying to see what she saw. Finally, Sylvie flicked open her phone and began to punch numbers in her calculator. The numbers don t add up, she mumbled as her fingers pointed around the sheets to show me. Looks like a loophole in earnings and write-offs. I m wondering where the money s going. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |