Page 64 of Hide and Keep

That’s what I tell myself as I sign the thirty-one-thousand-dollar bill. If I can’t save my own future, at least I can help his.

I’m just walking Ever up to the front door when “Never!” booms from the other side. Forgetting about the bags of clothes in my Bronco, I head inside with her.

Standing in the grand foyer, red-faced and slightly sweaty, is Arthur, glass half full of amber liquid in hand.

“My advisor just called. You spent thirty-one thousand dollars this afternoon.”

Thirty-onethousanddollars? On me? She didn’t let me see the total. I had no fucking clue that’s how much it was or else I never would’ve accepted all that shit. I mean the watches… They were pieces of art on my wrist. And the underwear… Those felt like they were made for me. But the tailor-made suits, and the shirts that felt like butter, and the…

Fuck. I can’t believe I let her spend over thirty thousand dollars on me. She made it feel like it was nothing though. She made me feel like I was…I don’t know. Worthy? For once. The way she looked at me… No, not looked at. Marveled, like I wassomeone worth marveling at. And the way she treated me. I felt like I was her equal, not the piece of shit people in her tax bracket tend to treat people in mine like.

For a split second, it felt like she could’ve been the girl from Hide and Keep.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t.

“I got a new dress for the gala,” Ever surprises me by saying. She did? I didn’t know that. I didn’t know she even glanced at the women’s side. She was in the men’s section or with me the whole time. Not once did I lose track of her whereabouts in that store, fully fucking aware she might slip out if I did.

“What about the dress you bought last month?”

She shrugs. “I didn’t like it anymore.”

“You didn’t like…” Arthur scoffs. “So now I’m out forty grand because you had to have the perfect dress?”

“I don’t have to go at all,” his daughter singsongs, her chin rising.

Eyes bulging, he sticks a finger in Ever’s face, making her flinch.

I automatically take a step in her direction, my hand at my side gravitating toward her elbow so I can yank her out of the way in case… In case…

Arthur Munreaux wouldn’t hit his own daughter…would he?

“You know how important this meeting is. You’re going.”

Meeting? I thought it was a gala.

Ever doesn’t blink, just stares her father down, that chin still lifted.

“Then I’ll go wearing whatever I want.”

“Mr. Brantley?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Tell me about this dress my daughter just had to have.”

Uh.

“She likes it a lot.” Right? Otherwise she wouldn’t be throwing such a fit about it.

“Willotherslike it?”

I don’t know why the fuck he’s saying others like that, but I didn’t see any fucking dress to know what anyone would think of it. Still, Ever could make a potato sack sexy.

“I’m sure everyone will love it, sir.”

“Everyone?” he parrots before leaning into his daughter’s space and saying much quieter, “Is that true?”

“Of course. They’llallwant to fuck me.”

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