“Well, I assumed as much. I also take it that the gigantic golden retriever puppy in your office came up with it? Since you seemed to be just as surprised as I was?”
“Yes. However, I had an advantage over you. I knew who you were.”
It was Deryn’s turn to say “Ah.” Then she followed it up with, “Well, you did use my name, so I figured as much…” She lowered her eyes, unable to give voice to the follow-up question that seemed to invite itself. Still, Paloma had enough mind-reading abilities. Probably.
“I knew who you were when I saw you at the fire, and I knew who you were when I approached you at the Rooster. I knew who you were from the start.”
Deryn shrugged, her shoulders moving rustily; her unease was hard to hide.
“I mean, I didn’t think to ask your name… You didn’t seem to want me to?”
Paloma’s smirk was taut around the edges.
“I did want anonymity. Still, it says a lot about this arrangement of ours.”
Deryn lifted her eyes. “It does?”
“Yes. It says you won’t care enough to make it more complicated. Your entire history is suitable for this very purpose.”
Paloma could’ve slapped her across the face, and Deryn would’ve found a way to crack a joke. But this? This was something she had no words for. This was something she needed time and maybe a bottle of tequila to begin digesting. If she even could. The sheer depth to which those words had cut was quite inexplicable, because it was technically the truth, wasn’t it? She was, always had been, free and… Free.
At times, she wondered why Fire was her element when Wind was so much better suited to her personality.
The weather vane… Didn’t Paloma use those very words?
Deryn was never volatile or angry, like fire. But she never stayed, just like the wind. It often made her think that, being a twin and a direct opposite to Seren, she was gifted Fire just to underscore their distinct natures. Seren was Water, that wasindisputable. Deryn as Fire never sat right. She wanted to be a Wind Witch, and now, being pretty much accused of being one, she felt slighted like never before.
Still, Deryn forced a smile and nodded.
“So, you want a fake local girlfriend. I can do that. I do not, however, believe that you actually need me. Or anyone, for that matter.”
Deryn watched Paloma’s face undergo a myriad of expressions before settling on something completely neutral.
“Some might disagree with you. Some have.”
Deryn’s answer was shockingly angry.
“You’re not going to allow your ex-wife, who cheated on you, to tell you anything about yourself.”
Paloma’s smile was rueful.
“Ms. Alami has been telling tales out of school? In all of the twenty minutes you’ve been down there?”
Deryn became increasingly interested in the clearly Persian carpet on the polished floor.
“People talk, and I might’ve heard and seen the way that asshat treated you as I was coming in. Those who can’t reach your level will try to humble you to bring you down to theirs. I hate her guts, and I hope she keeps stumbling on rakes and hitting her stupid forehead.” Deryn made the requisite gesture, mimicking the hit. “Listen, that’s not important. As much as I’d love to be part of this charade, what’s stopping you from…” Deryn gulped, wondering what the hell she was doing giving voice to these intrusive thoughts of hers. But then the memories of their night together and that sense of recognition that had not left her since their eyes met over the fire would not let her stay silent. She had to take a chance. She had to ask Paloma…if maybe she’d actually consider doing this thing without the fake part?
What came out, however, was less decisive than what she had intended.
“What’s stopping you from actually finding a real girlfriend?”
Good one, Crowhart. So brave. So straightforward.
There was no point in berating herself. Deryn waited for Paloma to speak. When she did, it was still in that bland, neutral tone.
“I’ve been in love twice, Ms. Crowhart. And I lost twice. Once, life took my love away when I trusted our happiness to be eternal. The second time, my own wife took everything away when I trusted that she would keep her pants on. So, you see, trusting again is not on my agenda. Not anymore. One only has so much heart to break before there’s nothing left. I’d prefer to keep my entanglements very brief—as ours was—and my relationships fake and for public eyes only—as ours will be now that you’ve signed the paperwork. Still, if you want to back out, I won’t hold you against your will. And I’m neither cruel nor stupid; you can work in my kitchens, seeing as how it benefits both you and the resort, regardless of the fake girlfriend bargain.”
Deryn wanted to cry. Or scream. Howl like a wolf at the moon, the stars, the skies. At everyone and everything. No, a dead first wife had clearly been a tragedy that left an immense mark. And as for a cheating ex? Well, while she couldn’t fathom anyone stepping out on this woman, some people were clearly foolish. Paloma’s ex was just one such example.
