Page 63 of Threaded Lies

“Things just happened,” I sputter the words out.

“A lot of things clearly happened, but I’ve known you long enough and one plus one isn’t equaling two for me on this.”

Our eyes meet and hold. I swear our years of friendship and knowledge of each other pass through the distance. I clear my throat. I struggle with how to explain or justify or reinforce the lies I’m telling one of my oldest friends. “I, uh—there’s just a lot going on,” I finally manage.

She reaches out and squeezes my hand, leaving mine in hers. We stand there in silence as the socializing carries on around us. I’ve never felt more alone in this moment and it’s all my own doing. “I’m here for you if you need to talk, Row. But I’m not going to lie to you. It’s quite a drastic one-eighty and if I’m asking questions, you better believe the busybodies of town are gossiping about it behind your back.”

“I know. Everything is fine. I’m not pregnant like my own mother assumes. This is my choice, Caroline. It’s my doing.”

“How bad did he hurt you?” she asks, and I know without a doubt she’s talking about Holden.

I put a brave smile on my face and nod. It’s all I give her as I squeeze her hand. “I’m fine,” I murmur. She knows something is up and it makes me feel a bit better that she does.

“Well, I’ve never known Rowan Rothschild to do something without there being a purpose or reason behind it, so I trust you.”

Her words mean the world to me and I struggle swallowing the lump in my throat they’ve caused. In typical Caroline fashion, she’s needed elsewhere for some drama or something in the club. She leaves me reluctantly but just as there is a rare sighting of Henry Williams across the patio.

Or maybe he’s always there, and I’m the one who isn’t.

Regardless, I make a beeline for him since it seems I can’t get him to return my calls.

“Henry. Mr. Williams,” I call out breathlessly to Gran’s estate lawyer and Chad’s uncle as I make my way across the space and turn some heads in doing so.

He turns and his eyebrows shoot up from behind his glasses. “Miss Rothschild.” He glances around as if he’s afraid of being seen with me. I file that thought away. “A little out of character to see you here, isn’t it?”

It’s not the first comment like this tonight.

Play the game, Row. Look the part. Smile the brightest while loathing the people you now have to become.

“Yes, I know, but Chadwick is bringing out all different sides of me.”

“Ah, yes. That’s right. I hear congratulations are in order. Forgive me for not saying so sooner. I was unable to make the party. Prior obligations had me out of town and unable to cancel for a party thrown on such short notice.”

“It’s been a whirlwind,” I say in what seems to be the word of the evening. “I think we took everyone by surprise.”

“Most definitely.” He shifts on his feet uncomfortably. “Well, okay, then…”

“I’ve been meaning to have word with you,” I say before he escapes.

“About?”

About why you never seem to return my calls. “Gran’s will.”

The features on his face tighten some and I don’t know what to make of it. “Her will?”

“Yes. I’m more than certain that Chad may have spoken to you about it as well, seeing that you openly informed him of some of its confidential contents.”

His Adam’s apple bobs and eyes dart around. “Of—of course, but—but I’m off the clock.”

“I’m aware, and I apologize for approaching you in this manner. I have called your office several times but your receptionist just tells me that your schedule is packed and she’ll try and get a message to you.”

“I am super busy these days.”

That or you know you fucked up, breaking my attorney-client privilege by telling Chad about the parameters of my inheritance, and therefore are afraid to be alone with me because you know I’m going to confront you over it.

“I know you are, but I’m sure you’ll take a moment for your soon-to-be niece.”

“Um.” His eyes flicker about nervously as if he’s looking for someone to intervene.