Page 80 of Wild Card

“She hates them too. I think that’s the draw…or something. I don’t know.”

“What else did I miss?”

“There’s a rumor going around about you and Taylor, and who your father is. There was a social media post about it, and there are some comments about how you’re working the system for that internship.” Each word was slow, steady, like he’d rehearsed the entire thing.

I closed my eyes again, feeling all the walls closing in on me.

“You maybe should have led with that.” I blinked, watching LED lights peek through overhanging leaves and shrubbery, which meant we were driving up the slope to my father’s house. Once he parked, he let out a tight sigh and opened his door. I exited too, legs shaky.

“I love you, Mal. You know that, right?” He walked over to my side of the car and tucked me under his chin. I watched the house behind him, eyeing the lights in the windows, the ivy that crawled along the balconies and windows, the bleak, black door and bronze knocker. I blinked, trying to remember back to the house I grew up in.

It was white with red trim and a tiny brick porch. There were always potted flowers out front because my mom loved fresh flowers. It was a humble one story with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. I remembered the carpets having a few stains here and there and we had a landlord, but Dad had loved the garage that was attached. It was only a block away from my school, and Dad used to walk me there every morning while Mom went to work.

I blinked away tears as my best friend held me tight to his chest, but I couldn’t take any more.

“Thank you, I’ll be okay. I think I'm going to stay here for a few days.” I stepped back and wiped at the rain beginning to fall against my face. He gripped my shoulders before giving me a small nod, then he was watching me walk up the steps to my father’s house.

Bev opened the door before I even knocked and tugged me inside.

“Girl, it’s raining outside—what on God’s earth are you thinking?” Her muddled Russian accent wrapped around me, reminding me of all the times she’d kept me company after Dad married Jackie. She’d play cards with me, gossip about her sisters back home, and even let me tag along with her when she went grocery shopping. She was the closest thing I had to an aunt or a grandmother.

“It literally just started, Bev.” I shivered but refused to let her see.

“Well, your stepsister is already here…I’ll bring two hot cocoas to the living room.” She turned and headed toward the kitchen, and I was left watching her.

I entered the living room, looking around the space. Chaise lounges, small sitting couches, and a lavish sectional all welcomed me, along with a roaring fire.

“Taylor?”

There was no response as I searched the space and came up empty. She wasn’t in the living room. Just then I heard yelling near my father’s office, so I slowly made my way in that direction.

Before I reached the alcove leading to his door, someone’s hand wrapped around me and covered my mouth.

“Shhhh,” my stepsister whispered in my ear, then she slowly lowered her hand and turned me around. “Listen.”

I blinked rapidly and nodded my understanding then followed her toward the door. We both pressed our ears against the mahogany and listened.

“Bullshit!” my dad bellowed, and something loud hit the wall to our left.

My eyes rounded as Taylor and I turned toward each other in surprise.

“We made the deal for Taylor, not Mallory,” Dad yelled angrily at whoever was in his office.

“I don’t know what to say, sir…I befriended her and have real feelings for her.”

That voice.

I straightened away from the door, staring at the wood. Taylor slowly stretched away from it too, watching me carefully. Did she want me to hear this? Was this why she’d demanded I come? More muttering on the other side of the door had me leaning against it once more.

“Bull. Shit. You expect me to believe you were offered the financial opportunity of a lifetime to set up this little ruse with Taylor, only to have it backfire on you because of that Decker boy, and now you have feelings for Mallory? I’m not an idiot—I know exactly what you’re doing, and it won’t work. Mallory is not a possibility.” My father’s curt tone brokered no argument. His angry pitch erected the tiny hairs on my arms.

“I held up my end of the deal. I set up the card game, ensured she was invited, and I had every intention of showing up. By her own account, she got sick. My question is, how did you allow her to pass the card on to her sister, knowing our plan in the first place?” Elias’s voice was clipped, and I would have hated to be on the end of what his expression likely revealed.

“The entire thing has gone to shit, which is why I’m cutting ties with you. Taylor may not have shown up, but Mallory isn’t a replacement. The shareholders have already discussed a plan B.”

I couldn’t look at my sister, but I reached over and pulled her hand into mine. Even if she’d hurt me by inviting Decker, this…whatever was happening on the other side of that door…was beyond Decker and Elias. It was beyond everything and shot straight at the heart of our connection as sisters. We’d been thrown together, and she needed me. I should have been more involved with all of this from the start. Taylor squeezed my hand in return as we continued listening.

“I’myour plan B. Mallory is the perfect person for the job in New York. I just ensured that her little internship won’t happen. She’ll need this. Let me be the one who goes with her. We will take it slow so she doesn’t suspect anything…but by the time we need to marry, she’ll be agreeable. Trust me.”

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