“Also, please consult the dress code section of the Blancbourg manual.”
After the headmistress leaves the room, I hang my head. I’m already screwing things up—just like my ex always said I did. As usual, I have no idea what I did wrong.
But Cateline is right. I took the fall because I want to give Grey a chance, but also because I need to keep my job. Nonetheless, I feel terrible and will add this to the list of things that have gone wrong.
After cleaning up as best I can, I step into the hall, heading toward the garden. The fresh air is welcome as it fills my lungs, pushing out the tension. Ever since Grey Hulked out, my heart hasn’t stopped thudding against my chest.
As I stroll past roses and other flowers in bloom, my phone rings with an unfamiliar number. Perhaps it’s Grey, ready with an explanation and an apology.
I answer at the same time as I take another deep inhalation of fresh air.
“Everly,” a caustic and unwelcome voice hisses.
Dread creeps across my skin and my stomach instantly knots with anxiety. Blood drains from my limbs, and if I didn’t have a special grippy doodad on the back of my phone, I’d drop it.
“I see you’ve got your hands full.”
Frozen, I don’t answer. A voice in my head tells me to hang up and run, but to be careful because I’ve walked into more than one spider web without seeing it.
“I see you’re dressing like a child instead of like a real woman.” I take this as a reference to my chest. Todd, the Spider, is a vile man. Also, I borrowed one item from Maggie and one from Pippa to complete today’s outrageous look.
My face heats and the blood in my veins goes from icy with fear to boiling. Words fight their way out of my throat. “Then why are you calling me?”
“To let you know that I know all about your little ploy.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure, you do,Mrs. Adams.”
Again, my stomach knots and sweat marbles my skin. “Leave me alone and don’t call me again.”
I hang up and as I race back into the building, a worrisome thought halts me in my tracks. How would Todd know what I’m wearing? Is he following me? Once more, my pace hastens.
Upstairs, I lock the door to my suite. My heart sinks as I slouch onto an antique sofa. I thought I’d be safe in Concordia.
Holding my head in my hands, salty tears drop from my eyes. I’ve lost so much and don’t know what else to do except to hang on and pray for a miracle, for something to happen that’ll take away the pain and stress, make Todd leave me alone once and for all, and bring that wholesome feeling of sunshine back into my life.
Heavy knocking on the door startles me from my prayer. I cross the room and peer through the peephole. If it’s Todd, I’ll have him escorted off the grounds for trespassing. He holds noclaim in my life, except that the guy doesn’t have boundaries and I wouldn’t put it beyond him to try to physically bring me back to the US and force me into marriage by gunpoint.
After I discovered him having an affair, and when I didn’t follow through on our wedding day, he fired back with the support of his family name—just as I expected him to do. With the promise that he’d leave me alone, I let him have everything. Yet, he still tried to drag me to court for the house and through the mud, leaving me with debt I can never hope to repay. I thought that was my punishment for leaving him at the altar. Apparently, he wants more.
A blurry image of a man twice the size of Todd fills the hallway. Despite Grey’s outburst in the salon, relief washes through me. I open the door.
Grey looks like he lives in a black-and-white photo, a perpetually cloudy image on a winter day. And I’m in a storm...of emotions. Doubt. Fear. Worry.
He tows a large, rolling suitcase and carries a shoulder bag. “This was brought to my room.” He pinches the tag printed with my married name,Everly Adams.His last name.
My cheeks are already pink and the flush spreads to my ears. I’d already started changing my name to Todd’s and didn’t want to go back to my maiden name. I don’t want to associate with either one if I can help it. Instead, I chose the fantasy life of Mrs. Adams, wife to a Viking who’d rescue me on his valiant steed.
A small furrow forms between Grey’s brows. “Does your boss know, given we share the same last name?”
I shrug. “It’s a common last name, but she hasn’t said anything yet.”
“If she asks, what will you say?”
“What should I say?”
“Tell her the truth.” Grey shifts from foot to foot as if he’s not entirely comfortable with it, but wouldn’t risk lying.
