“Tennis? No.” She waved her arms. “Glass wrists.”
Nico smiled politely but she could tell he wasn’t sure if she was joking. She’d have to recalibrate her humor for him. On the other hand, no. Not only would it be more fun this way, but it was time to put into action the lesson she learned from Jake: no more changing herself for a man.
“I spent my formative years wearing those trendy plastic bracelets,” she improvised. “They fused into gauntlets that eventually weakened my wrists to the point where it was impossible for me to hold a racket unless I put them back on. On the plus side, I can use them Wonder Woman–style to deflect the ball.”
“That would give the point to your opponent.”
“It’s a special gauntlet rule. You get double points.”
He looked at her over his tea. “No, you don’t.”
“You got me. I never learned to play. Can’t kayak or canoe, although I always wanted to try.” She breathed in the steam from her cup. “What kind of tea is this?”
“Luckily, none of those sports are prerequisites for your role as fake daughter. It’s oolong.”
The delicious oolong was officially her favorite, although that was adesignation that changed regularly. There were always new and interesting things to try.
“How do you feel about this whole thing?” she asked. The way he’d saidfake daughtermade her think he had less than positive thoughts about it. The story had been a huge shock to him, as much as he’d tried to hide it, and she wondered how he felt about Roger keeping a secret like that. Probably sad and left out. She would, anyway.
Nico didn’t meet her gaze. “It’s not my job to have opinions about it. Roger wants this done, so I’m doing it.”
“You think it’s a bad idea.”
“I never said that.”
“You don’t need to. Anytime someone falls back on saying it’s their duty or their job, that’s shorthand forThis idea sucks but I’m stuck.”
“I think it has limited potential for success.”
“So, doomed to failure.”
“Limited potential for success,” he corrected.
“Then why are you going along with it?” she demanded.
“Why are you?” he countered. “You can’t believe this will work.”
“It’s a little wild and out there,” she admitted, not wanting to delve into her motivations, which were often foggy even to herself. Helping Roger was enough of a reason. “Sometimes out-of-the-box thinking is what’s needed.”
“The box could be galaxy sized, and this plan would still be out of it.” He sighed. “Can we get back to work?”
She decided to leave any emotional probing until later, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. “This place is huge,” she said, looking at the two-story boathouse. “Eat the rich, but after I leave.”
“I’ll inform the comrades we’re pushing back the revolution to mid-September.” He held up his tablet. “I have a tentative cover story for you.”
Valerie ignored this second call to work because a photo of theproperty showed how isolated it was. While she doubted this was an elaborate scheme concocted by Roger to get her up north for unknown but nefarious reasons, she had a sudden concern about what she’d be walking into. “Question. I read a lot of mysteries, and PD James said all murder is due to one of four things.”
“We were talking about your cover story. How did murder get involved?”
“Stay with me. The categories are loathing, love, lust, and lucre.”
Nico eyed her. “Which one in particular has you concerned?”
“First, lucre. My arrival means less money for everyone. How did the family react to the will when they found out? I didn’t want to ask when Roger was there.”
“Penny thinks it’s an ideal division of assets, and David hates it. Neither will want to have less.”
“That’s predictable, I suppose.” She chewed her lip. “We also have loathing. The murdered interloper is a common trope.” She pointed to herself. “Someone like me.”
