Page 17 of Tainted Love
I wander my way back through the hallways, stopping in to say hello to a few of my favourite lawyers who are notcurrently in court. Though, I make sure to keep my distance from Michael Cromwell’s office, as I don’t feel like dealing with my ex-boyfriend’s grandfather right now.
When I finally reach Dad’s office, he’s sitting at the conference table sorting through a couple of file boxes. He glances up with a grin when I walk through the door. “You ready to get to work?”
My stomach dips, but I force a smile. My life has been mapped out since I was born, and it’s time I resign myself to their plans. I move over to take the spare seat next to him and pull a box in front of me. “What are we working on?”
I LET MYSELF into the house a few hours later. Dad and Elena are working late tonight, so I caught the train home. I can hear cartoons playing in the living room, where I assume Attie has been camped out since she arrived home from school.
As I climb the stairs, I remain on high alert for Elias, and as I make it to the third floor, music floats from his bedroom. Hesitating for only a moment, I continue into my own room and shut the door behind me; not pausing before I cross over to my bed, flop down onto my back, and stare at the ceiling.
Today, being back at Kirkland, Sullivan and Cromwell didn’t fill me with the same excitement and thrill as it did when I was younger. After my year abroad, it felt cramped and stifling. The more I think about my classes which start in a couple of weeks, the more my chest tightens. Dad and Granddad have their hearts set on me following in their footsteps.
To them, fashion is a hobby, not a career. Dad sacrificed alot to give me the best life, maybe I need to suck it up and make them both proud.
My phone rings and I slide it out of my pocket. Hunter’s face lights up the screen and I groan. I haven’t heard from him since the night I broke up with him, but I should have known he wouldn’t give up. I send him to voicemail, praying he’ll take the hint. We’re over—I don’t want to talk to him.
A minute later, a message comes through.
Hunter: I see you’re still being temperamental, Beatrice. When you’re ready to apologise for your behaviour, you know where to find me.
I let out a frustrated sound and contemplate smashing my phone. Is he for real?
Bea: It’s over Hunter. Really. Move on.
“Jackarse,” I mutter as I send the text and power off my phone. He is the last thing I want to deal with right now. The sound of a throat clearing catches my attention, and I glance over at the open bathroom door.
Elias leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed and an infuriating smirk plastered on his annoyingly good-looking face. Scratch that, maybe Hunter’s not my biggest issue, or the biggest jackarse.
“Problem, Duchess?” he enquires, arching a brow.
I roll my eyes. “Like you care.”
“Try me.”
My patience snaps. “Fuck off, Elias. I’m not interested in playing your stupid games. Just leave me alone.”
His smirk grows. “I like a challenge, Duchess. And now, you’ve excited me.”
Chapter 9
Bea
FOR THE NEXT week, I lock myself in my bedroom while Elena and Dad are at work. I spend my time sketching some new clothing designs and practising some complicated stitching techniques on my sewing machine. The Big Four fashion weeks are underway with the new Fall/Winter lines, and I’m feeling inspired by Paris Haute Couture.
I’m hand stitching a lace bodice when there’s a soft knock at my bedroom door. Knowing Elias wouldn’t knock, I carefully place my work on my cutting table and open it. I find Attie hovering nervously in the doorway, still dressed in her school uniform.
“Hi,” she squeaks out, shifting from one foot to the other. “Sorry to bother you. I just got home from school, and was wondering if you weren’t too busy, whether maybe we could hang out?”
Guilt hits me. Her brother may be an arrogant jerk intent on making me feel uncomfortable in my own home, but that’s no reason to ignore her as well. Speaking of said cocky arsehole, there’s no music drifting from across the hallway, so I wonder whether Elias has goneout.
“Sure,” I say, moving aside so she can enter my room. “Sorry about the mess, I’m just working on a project.”
Attie’s eyes light up. “You know how to make clothes?”
I nod, smiling at her.
“That is so cool! Can you show me?”
“Of course.” I roll my desk chair over to my cutting table so she can sit beside me. “This is a lace bodice that I’m hand stitching for this dress.” I pull out the matching sketch to show her, and she gapes.
