Her Destiny (Reverie #2)(19)

I shake my head as I hurry toward the bus stop. “I can’t. I have to work tomorrow afternoon and I have a paper to write.”

“Paper on what?”

“My essay for the financial aid and scholarship forms.” I am so dreading writing that paper. I have no idea what to say. And it feels like a waste of time because I’m fairly certain I won’t get a scholarship or any sort of help. Not because my grades suck, but because they’ll base everything on my parents’ past income. It doesn’t matter that all their money was taken away. They still supposedly earned it.

“Want us to help you?” Vanessa reaches out and grabs my arm, stopping me. I turn to look at her, hating the sympathy I see her gaze. “We’re here for you, Rev. You know this, right?”

Smiling faintly, I reach out and pat her arm. “Yes. I know.” Pausing, I fight the emotion—and tears—that threaten. “Thank you.”

I have the best friends ever. Despite the fact we’re making plans to get together on a Saturday night to write an essay and study for our trig test—which is just lame—they don’t protest. They want to help me.

More than I can say about my own parents.

“Reverie?”

I glance up at the sound of Elaine’s voice to find her standing in the doorway of the kitchen, her shoulder propping the swing door open, her expression grave. “What’s up?” I ask with a feigned sort of cheerfulness that rings false to my ears.

“There’s someone here to see you. He’s waiting at the front.”

Fear settles in my stomach and I stand, smoothing my hands down the front of my shirt. “Who is it? I need to get back on the floor since my break is up.”

“You can go over your break, I won’t dock you.” She smiles but it’s as false as my supposedly happy tone. I notice she didn’t answer my question about who’s waiting for me either.

With heavy footsteps I exit the kitchen and head toward the front of the restaurant, my heart racing so hard the sound is roaring in my ears. Frank sends me a sympathetic glance as I pass by him and focus my gaze on the hostess stand, where I see a tall man standing in front of the counter. He’s wearing a uniform.

He’s a police officer.

I flash him a polite smile as I stop beside the hostess stand, clutching my hands in front of me.

“Are you Reverie Hale?” He already knows I am, I can tell. Wariness fills me and I wish I could run but I don’t.

Instead I nod, not saying a word. Good lord, it’s finally happened. The cops are here to talk to me about my parents. What do I say to this man? I don’t want to protect my mom and dad but I can’t lie either. Not that I know much since everyone kept me in the dark.

“I’m Detective Jacoby—how are you.” He reaches out, offering his hand and I take it, startled by the firm pump he gives my arm before he lets my hand drop. “I need to talk to you about Nicholas Fairfield.”

Blinking, I take a step back, startled at the mention of Nick’s name. That’s the last thing I expected to hear. “Oh. Um, I don’t know how I can help you…”

“You seen him lately?” He interrupts, his penetrating stare locked right on me and I look away, instantly uneasy. “Don’t lie to protect him, little lady. I know he’s come around here looking for you.”

“Then why did you ask if I’ve seen him since you already knew?” Irritation replaces my fear. I don’t like him calling me little lady. And I don’t like the idea of this mom spying on me either. Standing up taller, I lift my chin and say, “He did come around but we didn’t really talk.”

He raises a skeptical brow. I’d estimate Detective Jacoby is around Dad’s age, shorter and with a paunch around his middle. He’s watching me like a hawk, looking down the slope of his large nose as if he’s waiting for me to slip up. I’ve got nothing to hide from this man. “From what I understand you two were involved.”

How in the world would he know that? Who told him? Nick? “Not any longer,” I say.

“Strange that he’d come all the way here last night and you wouldn’t talk to him.”

“We’re not together anymore. I told him that and sent him away.”

“Uh huh. Bet he got real mad after all that driving when you told him to take a hike.” He shoves his hands in his front pockets and leans back on his heels, contemplating me. I watch him in return, not about to back down. I don’t like this man and I’m usually accepting of everyone. But after being tricked for so many years, I’ve come to trust no one.

I hardly trust myself, or my instincts.

“He wasn’t mad.” Sad and disappointed and shocked, oh yes. I can’t get rid of the vision of him staring at me when I got on the bus. I know he couldn’t believe I walked away from him.

I still can’t believe I did either.

“You sure about that? Fairfield has a bit of a temper.”

This detective is trying to bait me or scare me, I’m not sure which. “Nicholas Fairfield is the most giving, sweetest person I’ve ever met. If he has a temper, he’s never shown it around me.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky then.”

Sniffing, I back away from him, my butt colliding with the hostess stand. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”