“Where’s your Texas accent?” my mom asks, all pretense of politeness gone. She must be just as shocked as me.
“I grew up in London.” Marlow squeezes my arm with hers, drawing me near. “We went to high school together—we were practically sweethearts.” She coos. “That’s probably where you know me from. I remember Poo-pa, I mean, Pippa, too. Always so clumsy. Remember that time you had that melted chocolate in your pocket?” She covers her mouth as though to keep from laughing.
Mom looks from Marlow to Pippa as though questioning identities and events. “But I thought—” Of course, she knows all about Pippa. I’d been crestfallen when she rushed off after the sponge cake mishap and had told her everything. She encouraged me to talk to her, but because of Freddie, I’d been dumb and afraid. Then I left Hinnifin abruptly, so there was no chance anyway.
But my father is wrong. I have grown up. I’m no longer afraid—not of him or Freddie. Tearing my arm from Marlow’s claws, I say, “No. I won’t. Not doing this. Sorry, not sorry.”
“You won’t what, Chase?” my father asks.
“I won’t get married. Not like this.”
“Then you forfeit your inheritance.”
“Why do you care?”
“Because I don’t want to see your grandfather’s hard work go to waste.”
A dark, but hearty laugh peels from my lips. Did I hear him correctly? “That’s interesting, considering Cap was the one who taught me how to play football and spent countless, tireless hours training me to be as good as he was. Then you tore me from my high school, sent me across the ocean to Hinnifin, and forbade me to play the game my grandfather loved so much—the gifts he gave me, the investment. He believed in me. Despite all that, I now play for the best team in the league. Nothing has gone to waste.”
“It’s not the future you want.”
“It’s my future and yes, it is what I want.” I give Pippa a pleading look, wishing for her to understand what I’m saying without words.
I want her.
“Chase, you know what’s at stake.” My father’s voice grates in a low warning.
Fuming, I throw down my napkin and storm away.
27
PIPPA
Idon’t have any words left. My battery is dead. I talked to my mom at length about the scene at dinner. I cried on my father’s shoulder. My sister and I texted. Prayers were sent up repeatedly. But the one person I haven’t exchanged words with is Chase.
At least not until we’re on our way to the airport to fly to Boston for the remainder of the Blancbourg program.
Taking the lessons that Chase learned out of the classroom and into real life is the practical portion that will offer him the opportunity to demonstrate that he learned his lesson and improve his public image.
Last night, I pleaded with Cateline to switch students, but it’s too late, impossible. That leaves me with only one choice. I have to keep my personal and professional lives separate. Those are the rules and the rules are how I keep afloat and not sink in an ocean of overwhelm.
We travel first class. Although the leather seats are roomy, ignoring Chase is proving to be more and more difficult.
After the night at the fair, I successfully distanced myself over the week, fully inhabiting the role of teacher and not thelovesick teenager that threatened to rear her head at every opportunity.
When he blinks.
When he breathes.
Being around Chase Collins has become physically painful. Excruciating. My chest is hot yet hollow. My eyes are itchy and dry, even though half the time the unsteadiness in my jaw threatens tears.
Confirming that Chase stands to gain financially when he gets married makes me wary that all he’s after is more money, which is just as well because I have to keep work and my personal life separate.
Marlow inserting herself into the situation cripples me with worry. Even though Chase and I can’t take things further, and I fear he’s out for a payday and nothing more, I don’t wish him the horror of a life spent with her.
I cannot get the look on Chase’s face while we were at dinner out of my head. It was brief but powerful. It was a message that I still can’t decipher. I cannot imagine a world in which he’d want to marry Marlow. But if his father holds the purse strings...
I want to marry for love. Not because of my mother’s aspirations to be part of the elite class by proxy. Not for money or prestige or any of it.
