Stealing Rose (The Fowler Sisters #2)(83)

I smile wanly. “It’s the heat. I hate being in the city in August. You know how I get.” Total excuse. When I was ten I fainted. Once. It was hot as hell and at the tail end of summer, and I collapsed on the sidewalk right in front of the Fleur building. I milked that incident for all it was worth, too, and Daddy fell for it every single time.

Not anymore, though, I guess. When I mentioned my aversion to heat, he brushed me off, then begged me to help. Violet’s not around, he told me. Lily doesn’t know the meaning of the words help and work. Could you put it together, Rosie girl? Please?

He calls me “Rosie girl” only when he’s trying to get something out of me. It worked this time. It works all the time. I’m a complete sucker for my daddy. I only ever want to please him, no matter how much he doesn’t seem to care whether I’m really happy or not.

So here I am, representing Fleur at a so-called summer soiree originally put together by Pilar. She’s here, hanging on Daddy’s arm, looking smug and also constantly checking her watch. They’re leaving early so they can get some time in at our family’s summer-house in the Hamptons, Pilar’s new favorite place to go.

A house I visited only once this summer because hello, Pilar is there.

God, I hate her.

“You’re wearing the necklace.” Lily’s fingers graze the stones of the Poppy Necklace. “It looks good with your dress. Does it kill Pilar that you have this?”

I pull my head out of the clouds—a place I seem to visit a lot lately—and focus on her. I’m wearing the necklace because it makes me feel closer to Caden. As stupid as that sounds since the man almost stole the damn thing, it’s the truth. “I don’t care what she thinks. Not like it’s really mine anyway. I’m returning it to Grandma when she comes home.”

Our grandmother escapes the city entirely in the summer and spends her days sitting on her porch in the Hamptons, taking in the sun and the salty sea breeze. Says it’s good for her complexion.

No one argues with her. Not even our diligent sunscreen wearer Violet.

Lily touches my arm, her delicate brows lowering. “Oh, my God. Your skin is clammy, Rosie. I swear, you look like you might faint.”

That’s because I feel like I just might. Glancing around, I see a few empty chairs at a nearby table and I hurry over, practically collapsing into one of them. Lily follows me, pulling the other chair close before she sits in it, staring at me as if I’ve grown two heads.

“Tell me what’s wrong. Are you sick?” she asks.

I laugh weakly. I wish. No, I’m not sick, not in the way she’s thinking. Not that I can tell her the truth. Not yet. This has been my secret to bear and it’s a doozy. “I’ve been working too hard, getting this party put together. I think … I’m just tired.”

Lily’s lips firm into a straight line. “I still can’t believe you helped out with this party. You hate Pilar.” She looks over her shoulder, presumably making sure Pilar isn’t anywhere close, before she starts talking again. “What happened to you quitting anyway?”

I keep my gaze fixed on my knees, plucking at the fabric of my pale pink dress, the necklace weighing heavily around my neck, my legacy heavy on my heart. I told Lily all about my grand plans when I first came back from London, all fired up and ready to set out on my own. I’d been angry, so furious at Caden’s abandonment and that shitty, awful letter he left me. It had given me an inkling of hope. He said he loved me. I truly believed he would cave and contact me. I figured he just needed some time.

But no. There were no calls, no texts, no emails, no in-person confrontations. Nothing. He disappeared as if he’d never existed and at times, late at night when I’m exhausted and can’t sleep, lying in my bed and staring at the ceiling, going over every single moment I spent with Caden in London, I wonder if I did imagine our time together.

I know the truth, though. I have undeniable proof that our time together happened.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” I say miserably. “If I quit, where would I go? What would I do? I couldn’t find a job elsewhere, like at a rival company or whatever. Daddy would’ve been so mad. I would’ve never heard the end of it.”

“Oh, screw him,” Lily says bitterly. “I’ve disappointed him time and again, yet here I am, hanging out at another Fleur party and wishing I’d never showed up. He said a few choice words to me when I first arrived and so did that bitch girlfriend of his, but I sent her a look that said I would cut her in an instant if she so much as breathed another word to me. She shut up after that. So did he.” Lily sighs and shakes her head.

I smile, wishing I could laugh. I can’t remember the last time I laughed. My misery has hung over me like a dark cloud and everyone can see it. Most choose to ignore it, though. “I’ve always been envious of the fact that you can basically do what you want.”

Her smile is fleeting, her eyes full of sadness. “What makes you think I can? I’m just as controlled by him as you and Violet. He just chooses to do it in a different way. I’m the shunned one. The outcast. At least you’re the favorite.”

“I am not,” I say indignantly. I can’t believe she thinks that. “Violet is the favored one.”

“And she’d tell you I’m the favored one. So there you have it. We’re all pretty much screwed.” She smiles grimly.