No One Knows Us Here(76)

“I’m fine now.”

“One more dinner. That’s all I’m asking. I screwed up. I’m admitting that. I got carried away—”

“I don’t think so.”

I walked him to the entryway and was about to usher him out the door when he tried again. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he said, dropping his voice several decibels. “Even if you don’t forgive me—and I wouldn’t blame you, seriously—I want to make it up to you.”

“You can’t.” Our eyes met. Silently, I pleaded with him: Let me go. Let me go. Let me go. If he knew what was good for him, he’d let me go.

I knew he understood. I could feel him debating with himself, and for a sliver of a moment I thought maybe that was how it would end. He would smile forlornly and give me a little kiss on the cheek and slip out of here, out of my life. That would be that. It was his choice.

He was this close to letting me go. I was sure of it. Then he let out a great sigh and said, “Just one more dinner. For old times’ sake.”

“Leo—”

“I’ll even give you a severance package. You’ll be able to stay here as long as you want, take care of your sister. No strings.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I care about you. I love you. You know that.”

“Okay,” I said. “Okay, I’ll do it. One more dinner. And then you’ll let me go.”

“Yes,” he said. “I promise.”

“I’m holding you to it.” I looked straight at him. I wanted him to know I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. I’d been through this before, after all.

“Wear that white dress,” he said on his way down the stairs. An afterthought.

“What white dress?” Even though I knew exactly the one he was talking about.

“The one you were wearing in the picture,” he said.





CHAPTER 25


I didn’t need to wear the dress. I didn’t need to please him anymore, or cater to his whims. I did it because I was going to uphold my end of the bargain. A professional to the end.

I was giving Leo Glass one more chance. One more chance to make this right. He could give me a severance package and get out of my life. If he left me and my sister alone, disappeared from my peripheral vision, faded into the background, never so much as spoke to me again, then it was over. I was a reasonable person, a forgiving person.

I took extra care with everything, the way I had my very first night before meeting Sebastian St. Doug at the Valerie Hotel. I curled my hair with the big-barreled curling iron. With makeup, I concealed the dark circles under my eyes, the vestiges of the red bumps traveling up my neck and cheeks. With lipstick on—the same shade I wore that night—I looked better than I’d looked for days. At least in low lighting.

Last, the ivory dress. It was ivory, not white. Leo didn’t know the difference. Pure silk satin. The nicest dress in Mira’s collection. I zipped it up the back and checked myself out in the full-length mirror on my bedroom door. The dress hung looser than it did almost half a year ago. I inflated my lungs with air, puffed up my chest to fill out the bodice. Then I exhaled all at once, like a deflating balloon. It didn’t matter if the dress fit right anymore. This was the last time I’d ever wear it. After tonight I would take the whole pile of glittery gowns and burn them in a metal trash can on the rooftop. Something spectacular, a pagan ritual.

At seven o’clock, I stepped out into the living room with my cashmere coat slung over my arm. My sister was curled up on the couch, her neck craned over her phone. The tiny heels of my shoes made clicking sounds over the hardwood, and Wendy looked up. Her eyes roved over my outfit, the curled hair, the makeup. Her whole face transformed into a caricature of horror—wide-open eyes, dropped jaw. “Don’t tell me you’re going out with him.”

I swiped her phone from her hands and made a show about turning it off. I opened it up and removed the SIM card, just in case. “Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t go online.”

“What are you doing?”

“You don’t know who Hannah really is,” I warned her. “You don’t know what she wants.”

“She’s my best friend. She wouldn’t—”

“I hope you’re right.” I set the dismembered phone back on the coffee table.

“Where are you going?” Panic rose in her voice.

“I have everything under control.”

“He just showed up here this morning,” she said in a rush. “I let him in. I didn’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about.” I perched myself on the edge of the couch next to my sister, careful not to wrinkle my dress. “I’m going to fix everything.”

“Fix everything,” Wendy repeated.

She didn’t get it. I softened my voice, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Do you trust me?” Her eyes met mine. This girl, this frightened girl on my couch, was the only thing I had left. She was the kid who used to follow me around, dress in my clothes. My little sister. She loved me. She was nodding. She trusted me.

“Windy-girl,” I said, calling her by her old name, her forgotten name. “Leo’s not going to bother us anymore. Remember what I told you?”