Erik sighs. “I just don’t want the press to start investigating who you’re sleeping with again. You know that one wrong look at her in front of the wrong person could spark the rumor mill to start again.”
I laugh. “You think I am not aware of that? Besides, of all the women in the world…” Thinking about Margot, I shake my head. “Trust me, she is the last one I would pick to sneak around with. She’s the opposite of what I want.”
That isn’t exactly true. Even as I say it, it sounds flat and wrong leaving my mouth. And not just to me…
Erik gives me a funny look. “You don’t have to lie to me, Stel. The bullshit with the press is one thing. But here, just between us, there do not need to be any secrets.”
I grin at him. “Everything is fine, Erik. You are overreacting.” Taking another swig from the bottle, I set it down on top of the cooler. “Come on. Let’s go for another twenty minutes, then call it a day.”
His eyes narrow, but he just shakes his head and runs to get the basketball. As we dribble and shoot, he stays quiet. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel his eyes on me, wondering just what I’m up to though…
I’d like to know as much myself.
When we’re done, we head outside, Erik regaling me with the story of last Saturday night. I’m only partially paying attention, honestly.
I admit, I am wondering about what Margot said to me earlier.
Does having everything you’ve ever wanted make it worth not getting to make your own choices?
That question echoes in my head for longer than I would care to admit…
Chapter Eleven
Margot
At eight thirty, I hear loud voices approaching me. Opening my eyes and straightening from where I was slumped over on a couch, I look up. Erik and Stellan are heading down the hallway where I’m at, both dressed in baggy paint-covered khaki shorts and scuzzy t-shirts.
And behind them is a group of maybe ten or twelve people that are all talking excitedly. Standing up, I brush off my old gray yoga pants and hole-filled Black Sabbath t-shirt. I try to school my expression to keep my annoyance off my face, but something tells me that I’m not very successful.
I showed up here before dawn and I’ve been waiting for three hours. A funny little prank for them to pull. It’s a good thing I have slept much worse places than in this hallway on a stiff burgundy couch.
When Stellan sees me, he smirks. He strides up to me and then moves past my couch without stopping. I’m forced to gather up my tote bag and my jacket and run to catchup with him.
“So you are coming, then?” he asks casually.
I shoot him a glare. “Yup.”
“Sorry we’re a few minutes late,” Erik chimes in, grinning like an idiot. I could smack them both in the face right this second, if they would only slow down to allow me to do it. They’re both so tall; everyone in this damned country is tall, pretty much.
“You told me to be here three hours ago,” I mutter. “You’re just lucky that I know how to keep myself occupied.”
Erik just shrugs. I speed walk down the hallway with them, taking a right down a staircase. The entire group takes a right and suddenly we are outside, queuing to load ourselves into a white passenger van.
Stellan and Erik are the first ones in. I hang back, climbing in last next to a willowy blonde young woman. She wrinkles her button nose at me.
“I’m Annika,” she says, offering me her hand.
I shake it, sizing her up. “Margot.”
Her delicate brows rise. My name apparently means something to her. “Haj. Did we already meet?”
“Yes. At the porcelain factory. It’s nice to see you again.” I smile, then I bite my lip, glancing back at the other people sitting in rows between us and Stellan. “How do you know everyone here?”
She laughs. “Well, I’m related to half of them. My last name is Løve.”
“Oh! So you’re Stellan’s younger sister?” I ask. That makes sense; she has the same light-colored eyes as Stellan, and his ungodly cheekbones. I dig through my tote bag for my notepad and pen, making some quick shorthand notes.
“Yes, I’m the youngest of five kids. The only girl, too. Stellan is the oldest… and then there’s Lars…”
