“I’m fine, okay?” she insists. “I can handle this. I don’t feel anything about the matter.”
“Little liar.”
Her chin lifts, defiance written all over her face. “I thought liars avoided eye contact. I’m looking you straight in the eyes, not glancing anywhere.”
“That’s a myth. Liarswantto see if their lie lands.” She blinks, thrown off for a second, and I take the opening. “Emotions always look the same.” I lean in a fraction closer. “Whether it’s a grandma, a child, a mentalist, or a little thief, the truth is written all over our faces.”
Her lips part, ready to retort, but then the elevator dings, and Nicholas steps out, his cap backward. He strides toward us, but before he gets a word out, Veronica appears from our other side, her assistant trailing behind her.
Her expression shifts from irritated to a saccharine smile in an instant. “Koen, darling! What a nice surprise. And Rosie,” she adds, her gaze sliding to Novalee. “What brings us the pleasure of your visit?” Then she turns to Nicholas, her smile turning icy. “What are you wearing?”
I glance at Nicholas’s athletic shorts and shirt as he shrugs, his tone clipped. “I was working out, Mother.”
Veronica’s disapproval radiates off her as she looks back at Novalee. “It’s an evil we must endure if we want to stay in shape, right, dear? Though he could at least make an effort to wear one of the matching outfits I bought him for Christmas.”
Novalee’s reply is quick. “I like this look on him.”
That’s when Nicholas remembers the role he has to play, reaching out and taking Novalee’s hand in his. Then he leans down to press a kiss to her temple. “You’re way too kind to me.”
Huh, that wasn’t played at all.
The stiffening of Novalee’s posture is almost imperceptible—there and gone in a split second—but I catch it. Veronica, thankfully, doesn’t seem to.
“Isn’t that cute?” she asks, her smile as fake as the diamond studs in her assistant’s ears. “Young love.”
The truth is written all overherface too.
“Speaking of dress codes,” I intercept smoothly, flashing Veronica a practiced smile. “We were actually here to ask if Rosie could borrow a Heights uniform or two.”
A flicker of suspicion crosses Veronica’s face. “What for?” she asks, but before I can answer, her expression sharpens, and the suspicion deepens. “Doesn’t she already have one from her little… escapade?”
Shit. I hadn’t thought about that.
“No,” Nicholas says calmly, almost bored. “I brought that one back to the laundry.”
I shoot him a grateful glance, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, keeping his focus on his mother.
Veronica’s expression softens, though her eyes still linger on Novalee for a beat too long. “What do you need it for, dear?”
I force a casual chuckle, waving a hand toward Novalee. “We were talking about the joint venture, the magic hotel, and Rosie here is into fashion. She’s been thinking about how the staff uniforms should look. Something that fits the vibe but is still comfortable for them to wear. That’s why we thought it’d be helpful to get a male and female version to see what works and what doesn’t. The Harrington Heights has the best uniforms on the Strip, after all.”
For a moment, suspicion clouds her face again, but it quickly fades, replaced by a flicker of glee. She believes it. She believes we’re buying into her vision and that we’re invested. She thinks this brings her closer to what she wants.
If only she knew how much closer this brings us to whatwewant.
“Of course.” Veronica turns to her assistant, snapping her fingers. “Grab two standard-size uniforms and bring them here for Rosie.”
The assistant nods and hurries off, leaving Veronica free to turn her attention back to Novalee. “What an amazing idea, dear. Once you’re done with the uniforms, perhaps you could think about curtains, table settings… everything! I have a fantastic interior designer I work with for all my properties. I’m sure he’d love to collaborate with you for the joint venture.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Nicholas gives her an almost sincere smile. “It means a lot.”
Veronica reaches out, resting a manicured hand on Novalee’s forearm. The gesture is deliberate, calculated. “Of course, we’re family.”
I barely manage to suppress a scoff.Family.Right. If she only knew her perfect little world is on the brink of collapse.
Novalee, to her credit, doesn’t flinch under Veronica’s gaze or touch. Instead, she mirrors her smile. “Thank you, Veronica. That means a lot to me too.”
God, she’s good. Too good. And as much as I hate seeing her tangled in this web, I feel a flicker of pride at how flawlessly she’s playing her role. This whole damn game would crumble without her.
