I sit up tall and force a delayed reaction, opting not to seem like an eager puppy dog and throw all my credibility out the window.
“That would be nice. Yes.” Taming my excitement, I leave the head of the table and retrieve a gray tweed trench from the coat room.
Derek waits at the door for me, but the sound of quick footsteps sends a stall to my racing heart.
“Where do you two think you’re running off to?” Eudora is breathless, a tray of spilled tea in her hands. For a woman of her thin stature, she really is quite out of shape. You’d think tending to a sixty-room manor would build some kind of stamina. “Serena, you’re not to leave the house, remember?”
“We’re just going for a quick drive,” Derek answers for me. “My client could use a change of scenery. We won’t be gone long. I’ll take good care of her.”
He winks, but judging by Eudora’s pinched scowl, it does nothing to rectify the situation. I imagine she’s fuming inside.
“Maybe we should phone Dr. Rothbart?” Eudora’s eyes go between ours. “See if he thinks it’s a good idea. You know, baby steps.”
“Eudora.” I tuck my chin against my chest. It pains me to speak to her in a condescending manner, but she’s being completely inappropriate. Not to mention rude to Mr. Rosewood. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a drive. Come on, Derek.”
We make haste toward the front door before she has another chance to object, and Derek walks me around to the passenger side of his black SUV.
“Thank you,” I say, smoothing my hands beneath my thighs and preparing to slide in.
The smile on my mouth fades when something catches my eye, and my throat constricts, rendering me momentarily unable to breathe.
“Derek.” I lift the Us Weekly from the passenger seat and examine the cover, instantly recognizing the pitiful photo of me on the bottom and the horribly inaccurate headline.
“Yes?”
Spinning to face him, I slam it against his chest. “Why would you have this? Do you know how awful these are? They’re nothing but lies. Why would you want to read lies about me? I thought you were in my corner?”
The magazine falls to his obnoxiously shiny shoes, and I pull my jacket tight and brace myself for the walk back to the door.
“Serena, come back here. It’s not like that at all.” There’s a chuckle in his tone.
But this isn’t funny to me.
This is my life.
Chapter 5
Derek
The front door to Belcourt slams with an ominous boom before I reach it, and the heavy clanking of the lock tells me all I need to know.
I use the knocker three separate times.
No one answers.
God damn it.
I can’t screw this up. And I sure as hell don’t want her thinking I’m unprofessional or untrustworthy all because of an infinitesimally small misunderstanding.
Pulling my left sleeve, I check my watch and then rest my hands on my hips, standing on the centuries-old stone steps. It’s barely ten thirty. Not to mention, my pen and legal pad are still inside.
Practicing law is my passion. I’m relentlessly obsessive about it. My professionalism is my reputation, and is second only to my father’s. If I leave here today, I’m admitting guilt in a way. Admitting failure.
And so I’ll stay.
I’ll stay as long as it takes.
* * *
Reclining in the driver’s seat of my SUV with the visor down, I’m awoken by several quick taps on my window. I slowly come to and turn the car to accessory-mode to roll down the window. The sun has dropped in the sky, and I’m guessing it’s about five, maybe six.
I entertained myself as best I could earlier, stubbornly ignoring my growling stomach and resisting the urge to run into town for a quick bite.
“Why are you still here?” The view of Serena’s head and shoulders fills my window space. Her blue eyes glimmer in the late day sun. Her head shakes, and before I’m given a chance to answer, she lifts a cloche-covered plate to my level. “Here. Bettina made dinner. I figured if you’re stubborn enough to sit in my driveway for seven hours, the least I can do is show you a little hospitality.”
She looks at me like she equally hates and appreciates that I stayed.
“Thank you.” I take the cloche-covered plate.
“Not that I want to. But it’s the right thing to do.” Her arms fold against her chest. Even when she’s pissed, those blues of hers are still fucking mesmerizing.
She’s still upset with me. I get it. But as soon as I get the chance to explain, this’ll all blow over. Maybe we’ll even laugh about it. I think it’s hilarious.
“Jump in.” I nod toward the passenger side.
“I will not.” Her arms tug tighter, and she doesn’t miss a beat.
“Come on.”
Our gazes lock, and I won’t back down.
“At least allow me to explain,” I add.
“What’s there to explain? You show up to my house with that garbage in your car.” She blows a frustrated breath. “And I’m just supposed to be cool with it? Damn it, Derek, you’re supposed to be managing my money and you’re filling your head with gossip articles. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”
Her left hand lifts to the gold charm dangling from her neck.
“I completely understand,” I say. “But once you hear my explanation, I promise you’ll feel better about it.”