Page 14 of The Forbidden
Harrison laughs, shaking his head as he points out. “It’s only Wednesday.”
“Exactly. And like I said, it’s been a long week,” I mutter. “I know she’s your sister, but Jesus Christ, Anais is a brat.”
His eyes narrow, his expression flickering with hostility. For a second, I expect him to get defensive, but instead he shocks me by laughing. “She is,” he agrees. “Blame my mother. She’s always pandered to Anais from the moment she was born. It’s worse now that she’s older. She sees her as a little best friend instead of parenting her. I had structure. Anais got whatever she wanted. But I stand by what I said before. She has matured.”
I snort. Matured? Is he fucking joking? I’m quite sure he wouldn’t be saying that if he heard about the little game she’s playing with my lunch.
The elevator stops, the doors opening onto Hayes’ entryway. I turn to Harrison, serious now. “I don’t know if I want her interning for me.”
Harrison sighs, patting my shoulder. “You better get used to it, man. You’ve got over seven weeks left and you know how your father is. Once he agrees to something, it’s set in stone.”
He walks off, calling out to Hayes. I stand there, squeezing my eyes shut and breathing deep.
“Fucking hell.” I curse under my breath, following him in. “Get your shit together, Evan. You willnotlet a nineteen-year-old brat get to you.”
“Why’re you talking to yourself?” Jameson appears out of nowhere, startling me.
He stares at me, his brow arched. I shake my head, ignoring his question. “I hope Hayes has good liquor.”
“He does,” Jameson says, nodding to where all the others are gathered. “Seems like we’re all in the mood to get fucked up tonight.” He exhales, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.
I glance at him, seeing the pain he normally tries so hard to hide written all over his face.
Racking through my brain, I think about the day, the month, my eyes widening when it hits me. Today marks ten years since the girl he loved vanished from our boarding school without a trace. A scholarship student, that he should’ve never crossed paths with, but from the moment Jameson met her, he was smitten.
Then she disappeared.
And he’s been looking for her ever since.
I sigh. Suddenly, my problems with Anais seem insignificant compared to what Jameson must be going through.
I rest a hand on his shoulder in silent support. He won’t talk, Jameson never does. Despite that, he knows we are all here for him, if he ever needs us.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s get a drink.”
Chapter 8
Anais
The weekend flies by.
I spend it relaxing with Lana and my family, all of whom are eager to hear about my first week at Maxwell’s. Truthfully there isn’t much to tell, just answering phones, filing paperwork and fetching Evan’s lunch. It’s not exactly the glamorous work they expect. I tell Lana all about my petty one-sided games with Evan, but I’d never share that with my parents or brother. They don’t need to know I’ve resorted to childish antics just to see if I could get a rise out of the infuriatingly unbothered Evan Maxwell, especially since he’s not even reacting.
By Monday, I’m genuinely excited for the new week. I’ve even convinced myself to behave… for now. I need to remember, most people would kill for an internship at Maxwell Diamonds, and I need to take it seriously. Christian gave me this opportunity, and I don’t want to let him down. Plus, there’s a small part of me that can admit – begrudgingly, I might add – I’m bored. Not once has Evan commented on the little croutons I keep sneaking into his turkey sandwich. It’s no fun playing games when the other person won’t play back.
If I want him to take me seriously, see me as a mature woman, it’s probably time I start acting like one.
I stride into the lobby, glancing around at the bustling crowd with a smile as I head to the elevator. Just as I reach out to press the button, a large hand beats me to it. I glance up to find Eli grinning down at me.
“Anais,” he greets warmly, straightening up as his eyes search my face.
I smile wider. Between Eli and Janice, they’re the only people who actually talk to me here. Well except for Uncle Christian, but I don’t really see him all that much.
“How’re you doing, Eli?” I ask, stepping back to wait.
He exhales, running a hand through his chestnut hair. “I’m good. You have a nice weekend?”
I nod. “I did, thank you. You?”
