His Reverie (Reverie #1)(35)

“Nick.”

I about jump out of my skin at the sound of Valerie Hale’s voice and glance over my shoulder to find her watching me with an expectant look on her face. What is up with these Hales always sneaking up on me and surprising me?

I’m both relieved and disappointed to find that she’s alone. Reverie is nowhere to be found.

“Morning, Mrs. Hale.” I turn to face her, making sure the hose isn’t aimed in her direction. I don’t think she’d like it if I accidentally splashed her expensive leather sandals.

“Turn that off.” She waves a hand at the hose, her gesture impatient. She seems irritated. I can’t help but wonder if it has to do with that conversation she just had with Reverie.

Without a word I go and turn off the faucet, then start hurriedly rolling up the hose. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”

“I do.” She approaches me, her steps evenly measured, her back ramrod straight. Her dark blond hair is pulled into a low ponytail and she’s wearing a sleeveless white shirt and matching skirt. She looks extremely put together, not a wrinkle in sight, not a hair out of place.

She’s intimidating as hell. I usually deal with her when Michael’s around. Rarely do we talk alone. I prefer it that way. Why, I’m not sure.

Maybe because every time I look at her, a steady stream of guilt pours over me, making me feel like crap.

Hey Mrs. Hale, what’s up? Oh, you found out I kissed your virgin daughter in the stables? Yeah, no problem. Hope you don’t mind. I just couldn’t resist her. You have to admit she’s pretty damn cute.

Yeah. That wouldn’t go over well.

“Did you steal my daughter’s necklace?” she asks, her voice laced with just enough venom to make me feel like she’s merely scratching my neck with the tip of the knife, not full on thrusting it into my flesh.

I’m so shocked by her question I gape at her like an idiot for a second, unable to form words. “W-what are you talking about?”

“On Saturday, Rev wanted to speak with you. Something about a missing necklace. Do you know anything about a missing necklace?” She raises her eyebrows, waiting for a logical answer from me.

But I don’t have one. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mrs. Hale,” I say, slowly shaking my head. What the hell? Was Reverie going around accusing me of stealing her necklace? This is the last sort of trouble I need. Is this some sort of revenge plot on Reverie’s part? Because this sort of accusation could royally screw me over.

As in, cost me my job.

“You didn’t steal her necklace did you?”

“I would never put my job at risk like that, Mrs. Hale. I swear to you. This job is everything to me. I need it. I would never steal from any of you,” I vow, hoping like hell she believes me.

She studies me, her gaze razor sharp, almost as sharp as her words. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she purses her lips and I notice the faint lines around them, the bright red of her lipstick. I can see where Reverie got her looks. I remember what Michael said. How she grabbed him last summer and hit on him. I wonder if he was exaggerating.

I hope like hell she never tries to pull something like that on me.

“Glad to hear this,” she finally says. “I’ll be frank. I don’t like that my daughter is asking about you.”

I swallow hard and say nothing.

“I want you to stay away from her,” she continues as she takes a step toward me. Then another. “I don’t know exactly what she’s doing, inquiring about you. Making up stories about missing necklaces and then miraculously finding them. She’s young and curious and naïve. Someone like you could easily take advantage of her.”

Anger flares inside of me at her words. Someone like me? What is she accusing me of? She’s making me sound like some sort of creeper ra**st.

“So I suggest you stay away from my daughter.” Mrs. Hale taps me on the chest with one red lacquered red fingernail. Her finger presses into me, lifts away and then does it again. Like she’s testing me out or something.

Weird.

“I have no plans of going after your daughter,” I tell her firmly because damn it, it’s the truth. I don't need the trouble. I don’t need some crazy girl going after me, accusing me of things I didn’t do, getting me in trouble with her parents, my employers.

“Good.” Mrs. Hale tilts her head back, her gaze meeting mine. She smiles and presses her entire hand against my chest, her fingers curling ever so slightly into the fabric of my shirt. “Because I will ruin you if you so much as lay a finger on her.”

With those final words, she shoves at my chest and then turns, walking away without a backward glance. I watch her slip back inside the house through the French door and take a deep breath the moment she disappears from view.

A mixture of frustration and anger swirls within me and I breathe deep, wishing I could punch something. What the hell was that all about? Stolen necklaces? Veiled threats? The woman sounded like she wanted to chop my balls off and then turn around and play with them. And that is scary as shit.

I’m starting to think spending even a minute with Reverie Hale isn’t worth the risk.

20

Dear Diary,

(July 11th, 7:52 p.m.) I don’t know what I did wrong. Nick ignored me all day. Any time I tried to get his attention, he looked away from me. Not that I saw him much. Mom kept him and Michael busy and then she forced me to go with her while she ran a bunch of errands, which really turned into us going out to lunch and going shopping. An early birthday present, she told me.