Reputation(45)

I cross my arms. “So you’re basically pretending to be with Trip just to make sure they don’t disown you?” I say disown on purpose. I need to know if money’s at stake.

Alexis taps her nails against the wine bottle. “You could say that. It would have to take someone really special to make me break away from them.”

She looks at me, hope in her voice. I feel another flutter in my chest. And she’s got to be indebted to her family because there’s money involved. A trust fund, probably. Something her family would cut her out of if she didn’t obey. And just like that, I’ve found her weakness.

Alexis grabs my hands. “So will you come next weekend? Please?”

Far above us, an airplane zooms. It’s a plane and not a planet—I can tell by the blinking light on the wing. “All right. It sounds fun.”

“Great!” Alexis cries, throwing her arms around me. “We’re going to have a blast!”

I squeeze her tight, inhaling her scent, feeling her hair tickling my shoulders. It’s hard not to be excited. It’s hard not to leap up and scream to the universe, Thank you, thank you, thank you. Maybe, after twisting Alexis around my finger, I’ll get to stay at Aldrich after all.

I think about that cold, bitter night after I’d left Manning’s house. I called Sienna because her family lived close by and I needed to get out of the subzero air. I had no intention of telling her what had happened with her grandfather or anything. At that point, I’d actually liked Sienna as a person, and I didn’t want her to think less of me.

Sienna said she was on her way back from a ski weekend with friends; she said she was pretty sure no one else was home but that I could let myself in with the garage code to warm up.

I rushed into the warm, big house. Hot water would help my numb fingers, so I set off to the bathroom. When I passed the kitchen and saw the figure by the fridge, I screamed. He looked over and screamed, too. Then came the shattering sound of breaking glass.

“Jesus!” Sienna’s stepfather backed up against the fridge door. He was wearing med scrubs and white sneakers, and his eyes were round with surprise. “Who are you?”

“I’m so sorry!” I cried. And then: “I’m Raina. Sienna said I could come in. She gave me the garage code. She said no one would be home.”

Sienna’s father’s brow furrowed, taking in my skimpy outfit. “Were you outside in just that?” I nodded miserably. There were goose bumps on my arms.

He found a sweatshirt, some heavy wool socks. I changed in the powder room, staring at my naked body, then a black-and-white photograph of some lake in Yosemite. When I walked back into the kitchen, Sienna’s stepfather was mopping up the glass that had broken on the floor.

“I’m really sorry,” I said again. “I can reimburse you.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s kind of my fault. I was skulking around in the dark, trying to figure out what to do.” He paused. “I’m supposed to go out with my wife’s friends tonight—stupid holiday tradition. I really, really don’t want to.”

The floor smelled yeasty from the beer. Sienna’s stepfather had an impressive mop of hair, thick and wavy. I remembered my encounter with him in Manning’s office the day of my interview. That smile he’d shot me when I was leaving. My skin began to tingle.

“Why don’t you want to go out?” I asked softly, leaning against the counter.

He brushed the pieces of glass into a dustpan and carefully slid it into a chrome trash can. “Have you ever gone out with people not because you want to but because you have to? Except if you had to choose, they wouldn’t be the people you’d ever want to hang out with?”

“All the time.”

“Well, it’s like that.”

“Then don’t go if you don’t want to. Life’s too short.”

His lips twisted into a smile. “You know, you’re right. I think I’ll say my surgery is running late.” He touched his phone. The screen glowed to life, showing a family photo of himself, Sienna, Aurora, and his pretty, polished wife. After he tapped a few words, the phone made the telltale bloop noise that the text had been sent. “There,” he said.

I took in his height, his handsome bone structure, his name across his chest. Dr. Greg Strasser, Cardiology. His eyes roamed from my hair to my bare legs to the way the sweatshirt clung to my boobs. I could feel the heat of his gaze and practically see the thoughts forming in his mind. Dr. Strasser was gorgeous. Dr. Strasser seemed willing. And most of all, Dr. Strasser, a cardiologist, was probably loaded.

And just like that, I shifted gears. It was so easy.

Greg’s phone beeped; he glanced at it, and his face clouded. “Is that your wife?” I asked, coiling a piece of hair around my finger. “Did I get you in trouble?”

Greg sighed. “No one said marriage was easy.” Then he looked at me as if realizing something. “You’re at Aldrich like Sienna, right? How are you liking it?”

“I love it. I’m on the Dean’s List.”

“Good for you.” Dr. Strasser held my gaze. “And you work for Kit’s dad, right?”

“Worked.” I felt a corkscrew of regret. “We’ve . . . parted ways.”

He snorted. “Well, Alfred Manning is a cantankerous old coot.” He leaned in closer, smelling like clean clothes. “I don’t think he likes me much, either.”