“I’m trained in Public Relations. When I was in Thailand, I worked for the CEO of a big phone company. But the company went bust, so I moved here with my husband.” She sighs. “He left pretty soon after we moved. I tried to get a job in PR, but employers here don’t trust foreign degrees. That’s why I do beauty. My ex-husband, he didn’t pay anything for the children when they were growing up. I want them to be able to go to good colleges.”
I frown. “That’s illegal. If he refuses to pay child maintenance, you can sue him for it.”
She laughs like it’s the funniest joke in the world. “Oh, I can’t afford a lawyer. Your nails are all done, sweetie, we’re just gonna moisturise, and then you’re good to go.”
“Thank you,” I rasp. As she reaches for a bottle of lotion and warms some between her hands, I think of the letter again. I hate the idea that something X has touched is in my house. I’m not even safe from him here.
I like you better in white.
“Oh, oops!” I jump as Nin turns too suddenly, knocking over the bottle of lotion. For a moment, I just sit there, frozen, staring at the lotion spilling over my bare thigh. Onto my carpet. Some even splatters on my bedsheets.
And then I just completely lose it.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I shout, my voice spiralling up. Fear is bolting through me, and I stagger upright. “LOOK WHAT YOU DID!”
I rub at the lotion on my leg, trying to wipe it off, but it just buffs into my skin. Nin grabs for the bottle, babbling apologies, but she just knocks it over. I watch as it spills onto my floor, shining stickily on my carpet. I’m going to be sick.
My mouth opens. “GET OUT!” I shout. “IT’SEVERYWHERE! WH-WHAT HAVE YOUDONE?I—”
Hands clamp down on my shoulders, and I gasp as Matt appears and unceremoniously shoves me out of the room, into my walk-in closet. He pulls the door shut behind us, but I can still hear Nin starting to cry in the next room. Slamming his hand on the light switch, he stares me down. He looks furious, his jaw clenched, nostrils flared.
“WHAT THEFUCKIS WRONG WITH YOU?” He roars. I open my mouth, but he interrupts me. “For God’s sake, I don’t know why I expected any different. You’re just like all the others! A little spoiled rich girl who thinks just because she has money, she can treat other people likeshit.”
I don’t know what to say. My mind is running at fifty miles an hour. I don’t know what just happened. I don’t understand it. I don’t know why I got so scared—
I shove Matt off me. “Go away.”
He takes a step back, fuming. “What? What could shepossiblyhave done, to make you go off at her like that?”
“She… she spilt the lotion—”
“She’s barely making enough money to eat!” He bellows. “She works three jobs to support her kids, who she never even gets to see! You earn five times her yearly salary just by making a bloody Instagram post, so don’t youdareshout at her like she’s worth less than you!”
His blue eyes burn into mine with such raw, utter hatred that I can’t breathe right. “Getout!”I suddenly scream, grabbing the closest object to hand—a fluffy pink pom pom bag—and throwing it at his head. He ducks it easily, scowling at me, then turns and leaves, slamming the closet door behind him. I can hear Nin’s muffled sobs through the door, and his low, soothing tone as he speaks to her.
I drop to the floor. Tears prick my eyes. I’m shaking all over. I’mscared,more scared than I’ve been since I was sixteen years old. I feel like I’m going mad.
Don’t break down,I tell myself firmly.Don’t break down. You can’t.
I take a few deep breaths, then get up and force myself to keep getting ready. I wipe the sticky lotion off my skin, touch up my makeup, slip into my silver flapper dress. When I first tried it on, I thought it was glitzy and sexy, but now, I don’twantto be sexy. I feel naked as a slug. I wish I could just wrap myself up in a coat and sunglasses and fade into the background.
There’s a gentle tap on the door. I open it to see Kenta, dressed in a neat black suit. Instead of his usual gentle smile, his face is frozen and hard. Of course it is. I just reduced his sweet sixty-year-old neighbour to tears. He probably hates me. “Are you ready to leave?” He asks coldly.
Swallowing hard, I nod, smoothing down the skirt of my dress and picking up my clutch.
I don’t know how I’m going to make it through tonight.
Thirteen
Briar
?
Cameras flash around us as the car stops outside the gala. Matt steps out into the road first and stiffly offers me his hand. I swing my legs around, careful not to flash my underwear, and let him help me out onto the street. Photographers crowd around me, jabbering questions. Behind them is a press pit; a long row of reporters from various news outlets, standing next to their cameramen. I invited as many stations as possible to get word of the charity out. Right now, though, I’m starting to regret that.
I still feel shaky and odd. I spent the whole car ride trying to calm down my whirling thoughts. My freakout in the bedroom is playing over and over and over in my head.
Matt goes to push through the crowd, and I grab his sleeve, tugging him back. “Give me your arm,” I mutter.
