Prologue
Patience
“Why does he want me at this dinner? He never wants me to be around when he hosts one of these.” I frowned, looking down at the dress my nanny, Ms. Ryan, held out to me.
“You know I don’t question your daddy. I just follow his orders.” Ms. Ryan’s dark chocolate cheeks creased as she smiled.
I eyed the dress with the flower print. “I don’t like flowers.”
“Then which one would you prefer?”
“The plain black one.” I motioned to the dress hanging in my closet.
“There are going to be some important people at dinner tonight. You can’t wear that dress. It’s too tight on you now.”
I rolled my eyes, hating the reminder that over the past summer, right before I started high school, my body betrayed me. My hips had widened, my breasts have grown past the training bra I first got the previous summer to a C-cup, and my ass now filled out my jeans. I’d even caught one of the male teachers checking out my backside. I may’ve been fourteen, but at heart I was still the nerdy girl that loved nothing more than to curl up with a good book. I hated the increased attention.
“Your father would not like that,” Ms. Ryan continued.
“Like he’ll notice,” I snarked.
“Don’t say that. Your daddy is just an incredibly busy man. He loves you very much.”
I let out a long-suffering sigh before taking the floral dress from my nanny. “If you say so. I’ll wear the dress.” I moved to the bathroom across the hall to change into the dress and stockings Ms. Ryan had laid out.
“I’m leaving the braid in,” I insisted, returning to my room.
“That’s fine. It looks–”
“Patience!”
My stomach jumped as my father’s voice reverberated up the staircase, reaching into my room to my ears.
“Yes, Dad?”
“Patience, don’t yell! Go to your father.”
Pushing out a heavy breath, I stomped off to reach the top of the wooden banister that led to our two-story home’s staircase.
“Yes, Dad?” I looked down at my father’s dark brown eyes, and for a moment I thought I saw a glimmer in them as he peered up at me. However, a blink later and it was gone. Pretty sure it was just my imagination.
“Are you ready? Our guests will be here shortly.”
I held back the sigh that wanted to escape. “I–”
“She’s ready, Mr. Thiers. Doesn’t she look lovely? Our little girl is all grown up,” Ms. Ryan gushed, wrapping her arms around my shoulders from behind. Ms. Ryan was the closest thing I’d ever had to a mother, and I had to admit hearing the pride in her voice as she talked about me made me smile a bit.
My father clearing his throat caught my attention. “Well, then come down so we can meet our guests.”
“Okay, I just have to grab–”
“No books!” both Ms. Ryan and my father yelled at the same time.
“You will be social tonight, Patience. Not have your head stuck in a book. Go on.” Ms. Ryan nudged my shoulders in the direction of the stairs.
“Don’t most caretakers do their best to encourage reading in children under their watch?” I grumbled.
“Yes, but most teens aren’t spending their time avoiding social interactions with their heads stuck in books all day long like someone I know,” she sing-songed the last part.
