Chapter Five

Annabelle

I drive down to Venice Beach, classic rock blaring to drown out my thoughts. Once there, I park and find a shady spot under a palm tree and turn off my phone. I need some time to try to sort out my thoughts after Elizabeth’s revelations.

It doesn’t work. No matter how I turn things over in my mind, I can’t come to any conclusions about anything. Not Elliot, not his family, not my situation or what the best path is going to be for me to take.

And my hormones aren’t making the job any easier. My period starts, prompting a dash into a local eatery to use their bathroom. I don’t know how I could have not noticed I was retaining water…among other things. Stomach cramps, the dull ache in my lower back. But I welcome the minor discomfort. It means I didn’t totally screw everything up when I was young, even though I never sought medical help with my unwanted pregnancy to make sure I was still okay. My period lasts for only four or five days, and the flow is generally on the light side, and I’m grateful. It means if I have the right guy and if we decide we want to, we can have children.

I feel drained physically and emotionally by the time I finally get in the car to drive home, but I inhale deeply and paste on a smile before slipping into the penthouse at a quarter till six. Nonny and Elliot are at the table, working on a set of algebra problems. His hair is damp, probably from a recent shower. Nonny’s in a bright pink v-neck shirt and loose shorts. Her hair rests on top of her head in a messy bun with a pencil stuck through it. She taps her mouth with the eraser end of another pencil as she scowls at the numbers.

Meanwhile Elliot is in a light gray cotton tee that clings to all the right places—his lean, muscled pecs and tight abs. The lounging shorts show off his well-developed calves dusted with crisp dark hair. He raises his head as though he’s sensed me. Our gazes meet, and I feel my smile slipping. His broad shoulders look so comforting, a part of me just wants to go over and rest my head there for a moment.

But the things Elizabeth said come back to me, and I can’t. I’m beginning to realize that I crave him, but he doesn’t feel the same way about me. Not even close. He holds all the cards, and those cards have even more power now because I care and he doesn’t. The sweet, tender glimpses of him that I’ve seen are probably the things I’m imagining to make myself feel better about our…arrangement. I know how people are wired to focus on things that support what they want to believe. They even invent what isn’t there to reinforce their belief. It’s how my dad was able to do so much damage for so long.

Nonny waves. “Hi.” She yawns. “You’re back.”

Elliot gives me an unreadable look. “You were out for a while.”

“Had some errands to run.” I don’t want to talk about meeting Dennis or Elizabeth.

“We ordered Chinese,” he says. “Hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t get hold of you.”

I shrug. “That’s fine.”

I climb the steps to the master suite and drop my purse in the walk-in closet. The dress slithers into a heap on the floor, and I kick it into a basket for dirty clothes. I put on a super comfy sleeveless black dress that reaches mid-shin. The full-length mirror on the wall reveals a young woman with shadowed green eyes staring back at me. The makeup on my face is as wilted as old lettuce, and I feel as bad as I look.

Annoyance surges. Why am I not taking better care of myself? I’m wasting energy on things that simply won’t matter once the year’s up. I go to the bathroom, drag a couple of makeup remover wipes across my skin and wash my face. Have dinner and go to sleep. Maybe a little warm milk before bed to help myself relax.

Feeling immensely better, I go downstairs and sit at the table. Nonny yawns again as Elliot explains the mistake she made on the last problem on her homework.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not getting it,” she says.

“Have you been staying up texting all night?” he asks.

“No. Just can’t sleep these days.”

I frown. Whenever something’s bothering her, she goes through a bout of insomnia. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Nonny…”

“I’m serious. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Sure. That’s why you have dark circles.”

“Runny mascara,” she says. “I’m going to buy some waterproof stuff tomorrow.”

I shake my head. “If you want, I’ll sit with you tonight.” Sometimes that helps her get to sleep.

Her gaze darts in Elliot’s direction. “No, it’s okay.” She sighs. “Please. Don’t worry about me, okay?”

I cross my arms. “If you promise to get some decent sleep tonight.”

She rolls her eyes. “I prooooomise,” she says, drawing an exaggerated cross over her heart.

Elliot’s frowning as he watches our exchange. I don’t explain anything to him. Instead, I merely clasp my hands, while Nonny puts away her math homework.

Just as he asks, “What was that—?” the intercom buzzes. Relieved, I start to rise, but he gestures at me to stay seated. “I’ll get it.”

As he leaves the table, I turn to Nonny. “If you need to talk, you know I’m here for you.”

She looks at me, her eyes troubled. Her teeth dig into her lower lip, then she shakes her head. “It’s just the excitement of the new school and everything. I’ll be okay.” She pats my hand. “You know me. I’ll be back to sleeping like a baby soon.”

I nod, hoping that’s true.

Elliot reappears with our food. He lays it out, and we dig into the orange chicken, sweet and sour pork, and beef and broccoli. The shrimp and egg fried rice is fluffy yet moist, and the spring rolls are just crispy enough.

“The beef is too salty,” Nonny announces.

“Wonder if they got a new chef,” Elliot muses. “The place is usually better than this.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad.” I always enjoy extra salt in my food when I’m on my period. Not that I’m going to announce my cycle at the dinner table. “If you want, I’ll eat it, and you can have the chicken or pork.”

“If I eat it with rice, it’s not as bad.” Nonny loves beef too much to give it up over something as minor as sodium content.

“By the way,” Elliot says to her, “are you going to be okay with eating alone on Friday?” he asks.

“Sure,” she says. “What’s up?”

I shoot a quick glance at him.

“Your sister and I are invited to dinner.”

“With who?” I ask.

“Gavin and his wife Amandine.”

I tense. Dennis said Gavin is the one doing the background check again. “What for?”

Elliot’s eyebrows rise.

Damn it. That wasn’t exactly what I wanted to say. “I mean, it’s not like they know me. Kind of unusual, isn’t it?”

Elliot is now looking at me like I’m some kind of alien. “Ah, inviting someone to dinner is a way of getting to know them.” He spreads his hands. “Gavin’s a friend. And Amandine is curious about you and wants to meet. That’s all.”

“Curious about me, huh?” I put my chopsticks down, abruptly losing interest in food. Elizabeth swore nobody knew about my arrangement with Elliot except his family, but she could’ve been mistaken. Why else would Amandine be “curious”? We’ve never met. I’d never even heard of the woman.

“What’s wrong?” Nonny asks.

“Nothing.” I shake my head. “You’re right about the food. It’s a little salty.” I reach for a bottle of water and manage to take a few sips for her benefit.

Elliot’s not buying my act. But my sister’s presence stops him from probing.

Nonny has one more bite of the chicken and yawns. “Okay, I can barely keep my eyes open. Can I be excused? I want to go to bed early.”

“Go ahead. I’m beat too. I think I’ll join you.” I stand up. “Are you done, Elliot? If so, I’ll clean it up.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll dump everything when I’m done.” His voice is firm and expressionless.

He’s annoyed, but that’s probably better than him wanting to probe.

Nonny and I squeeze each other good night. She also gives a hug to Elliot before going to her room. I hope her insomnia is over. It’ll stop when she’s feeling better.

I go upstairs and brush my teeth before jumping into the shower. I act fast, hoping to be in bed before Elliot shows up. That way I can pretend I’m asleep and avoid questions about my reaction to Amandine.

But…no such luck. Elliot is back as I put away the dryer.

He gives me a sidelong glance, his eyes filled with something I can’t quite read, then brushes his teeth. I go to the bedroom and get rid of my bra before crawling under the soft sheet with a sigh. It feels great to be horizontal and get some rest even though it’s going to take a while to fall asleep. I’m too cranky, and my stomach cramps are bad enough that it’s hard for me to sleep during the first two days of my period.

The mattress dips, and Elliot rests a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You’re tense.”

“I’m tired.” I press my lips. I should probably get this out before he starts kissing me. “I’m on my period,” I say it fast like I’m pulling a Band-Aid.

He digests that, then curses.

“At least I’m not pregnant.”

“There’s that.” He is quiet for a moment. “Did you take something?”

“Yes, but it never helps much.”

He makes a sympathetic noise deep in his throat. He reaches around, his fingers kneading my tight back muscles, and I sigh. It feels so good, and he seems to know exactly how to touch, how much pressure to exert to loosen the knots.

“About the dinner on Friday…” Just like that tension returns in spite of myself. His eyebrows pinch, and I know he’s noticed too. “Do you not want to go?” he asks.

“It’s not that. I don’t know if Amandine would really want to meet me.” I don’t want to be a circus freak Elliot’s acquaintances and friends marvel at for the crazy deal I struck with him.

“Why wouldn’t she?” He waits a beat. “She’s probably curious about you because she was certain no woman would ever marry me.”

My body doesn’t loosen at the explanation.

“I have a certain reputation. I’m sure you’ve already googled and seen stuff about me.”

I sigh. Yes, I’ve seen the articles and photos about his escapades. And the sex tape.

He continues, “Amandine is nothing like Tiffany. She’s actually quite sweet, like her name sake.” He resumes the massage. “It’ll be good for you to make some friends in this city, and she’s perfect. Used to be an art teacher, until she married Gavin. Then she started to focus on her own work.”

“Is she any good?” I ask even though I know the likely answer. She’s probably a genius. Elliot seems to surround himself with the smartest and most talented people he can find.

“I don’t know. Never seen her stuff.” He gives me a quick grin. “Just between us, I think she probably sucks. Why else wouldn’t she show it off?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Judgmental much?” I feel too relaxed to scold him though. His fingers are far superior to the ibuprofen pills I took earlier. “She might just be shy.”

“Possibly. Anyway, she still wants to meet you.”

I don’t particularly want to meet people who are going to be nice to me only because of Elliot. I look into his eyes, about to tell him I’m not interested. The warmth and concern in their depths stops me. He’s making an effort since the dinner disaster, when I made those ugly accusations. “If you’re upset about what I said after Tiffany dumped champagne into Nonny’s punch, don’t be. I was being unfair, and I know it.”

“Being honest about your feelings isn’t wrong.” He takes my hand and kisses the palm.

I can’t stay recalcitrant when he’s like this. “I’ll go,” I say, sighing. “Let me know the exact time and what I should wear.”

He nods, then rubs my back until I fall asleep.