He was quiet for a moment. “Be that as it may, her behavior reflects on us. She needs to be whipped into shape.”
God, his motivational speeches were straight out of the 1950s.
“And that’s your job.”
“You can’t flog a dead horse,” I told him.
He sighed, and I could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose.
“If you can’t keep one girl under control, how am I supposed to trust you with the business one day soon? It’s disappointing.”
Jesus, everything with my father came back to measuring my worthiness to inherit his empire. The single thing he cared about. Considering I’d dedicated my life to living up to his expectations, it wasn’t something I’d let slip through my fingers.
“I can do it. I’m just messing around,” I said.
“Are you sure?” he pressed.
Helping Selena to be less self-destructive was the last thing I wanted, but I also couldn’t have my father thinking I’d failed one of his tasks.
“Of course, there’s no problem. I’ll whip her into shape, just like you said,” I said confidently.
“I knew you could handle it. I look forward to hearing how you’re progressing. I don’t want my new wife feeling upset all the time that her daughter might embarrass her. It’s spoiling the honeymoon period.”
“Well, we can’t have that. I’ll make it happen.”
“See that you do.” Then he hung up.
I stared out the window, the gates open in the morning sun. Selena crept through them, furtive and jumpy. Like she thought she could sneak into this house, and no one would know she’d been out all night.
Letting Selena self-destruct clearly wasn’t going to fly. Not only would it piss my father off, but considering last night, I seemed to have an issue letting it happen.Interesting.Clearly, it was all because of Emily. My weakness, my heart. The last person, outside of Cal, I’d ever care about.
So, I’d adapt. All plans were flexible, after all. I had a PI on speed dial, and he was good. Very good. A quick call, and all the information I had on Marjory passed over, and that aspect of the plan would be in motion. I didn’t need to watch Selena destroy herself. There’d always been the chance that my father was willing to put up with more from a stepdaughter. But a wife? That was a scandal he’d never allow. With the PI digging for dirt on Marjory, that only left my father’s instructions.
What was it he had said? Whip her into shape? I could certainly try. Torturing the little menace with father-approved methods didn’t necessarily go against my final goal.
Getting rid of both Selena and her mother. It’d just make it more fun on the way.
Selena
I letmyself in as quietly as I could, kicking my boots off outside and easing through the patio doors. After tiptoeing through the quiet house, I reached my bedroom and slipped inside. I closed the door after me, leaning back on it, and tried to calm my furiously beating heart. I didn’t want my mom catching me out all night. HerandBrody being on my case was the last thing I needed.
I stripped off my clothes, feeling grimy after my unplanned sleepover at Winter’s place, and headed for the bathroom. Cautiously unlocking the door to my side of the bathroom, I listened carefully before peeking in. The coast was clear. I scurried inside and immediately ran to the door on Brody’s side, turning the lock so he couldn’t enter.
I stared at myself in the mirror and sighed. God, I looked rough. Mascara ringed both my eyes, even smearing down my cheeks. My lipstick was faded in places, and my hair could house several pigeons happily.
I turned the water as hot as I could stand it and got under the stream. I had to admit, it was a damn good shower. I lost track of how long I stayed under there. There was nowhere I felt better these days than in the shower. Washing myself clean was my happy place. There, under the blistering stream, so hot my skin turned pink, I felt like maybe I could start again, without all my baggage, just be reborn, like a phoenix burning up before rising.
I got out when I started to feel a little dizzy from the heat, stumbling onto the plush bathmat. The towels in this house were so large, they swamped me, coming down to mid-shin. I guess it made sense, seeing as they had to wrap around two oversized hockey players. I liked the feeling, though.
I brushed my teeth and combed my wet hair back. Should I cut it? I’d toyed with the idea of shaving it all off but was scared to lose the shield I hid behind.
“If you’re thinking a trim might be in order, I agree. I’m sure your mother has her instructions on how to make you Sinclair worthy, if such a thing is possible.”
I jumped and whirled to face the door to my bedroom.
Brody stood there, in workout clothes drenched in sweat. He leaned his hip and shoulder on the doorjamb. Casually devastating in the early morning light, his dark hair also wet with sweat.
“I locked your door,” I said lamely, as my brain attempted to work on three hours of sleep.
