Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Hailey. My sister. The girl he’s sleeping with behind my back. But is it behind my back? Is he required to share these details with me? I don’t know that answer. I only know my irritation.
“No,” I say, bottling my emotions for a beat. “We had an extensive reading requirement growing up. Classics, history texts, languages, all imposed by the dear old Mom and Dad.” I give him a tight smile. “Hailey didn’t want to add to it, but I’d pick her brain about whatever book stole her attention the most.” I pluck out Pride and Prejudice. “You seem to be really warming up to my sister.”
Jake’s gaze meets mine, unyielding, unwavering. He clearly knows that I know he’s been a little too close for friends. And then he nods slowly. “I won’t lie to you, I like her.”
“Good,” I say. “Because I’d beat your ass if you were sleeping with my sister and didn’t like her.”
He sighs. “We’re both going through a lot, and she’s probably the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”
“Like a science experiment,” I say dryly. “You want to dissect my sister. Slit her open with a scalpel.”
He laughs hard. That surprises me.
“Something funny, Jake?”
“I think it’s more likely she would cut me open. I think she would like to dissect me. And weirdly, I’d let her. She’s about the only person I would, and I don’t know why. I can’t even tell you why. It’s been driving me…” He laughs to himself. “Ah, fuck.” His smile fades. “I haven’t felt like this about someone in a long time, and I can’t…I can’t be with her.”
My jaw muscle tics. That shouldn’t piss me off as much as it does. Jake rejecting my sister when she’s already practically shelved him in a similar fashion. “Because of your family?” I’m guessing.
“Always because of them.”
Jake gets a sudden call from his mother. He’s being whisked away to speak to a florist. This is the typical Claudia/Jake dynamic that drives me batshit. Whenever he’s with a guest, she calls upon him to cage his attention.
She keeps him busy.
She separates him from others. It’s an uncreative power move that I have the misfortune of watching.
Once he’s gone, I shower and change into dinner attire. Ready for tonight’s festivities.
THIRTY-FOUR
Phoebe
The Badger Game (Continued)
Here’s the thing, I’m not really afraid of Claudia Waterford. Even after hearing what she’s done to Jake’s exes—forcing a girl to eat dog food, pressuring another to cut off all her hair—it’s just not that scary. At least not in the horrifying, fear-for-my-life sense. This is kind of…weirdly thrilling.
I just hate knowing Rocky drew the short straw in this job and has to entertain Trent. Fan his ego. Act like his shit doesn’t stink when his stench mimics a landfill. Remind him that the whole town still thinks he walks on water when in reality Trent’s name has been whispered and degraded ever since the Celia audio leak.
That scandal wasn’t enough to make the Koning board turn their backs on him or for Claudia to shove him off his gold-plated pedestal. But his armor is dented, and it’s a step in the right direction.
Long cons are slow decimations. Brick by brick. Until the mark is underneath so much rubble, they’re suffocating.
I toss my overnight bag on my bed. My accommodations haven’t changed since my first night at the estate. A modest room with a twin bed, not large enough for Jake and me to share. Claudia said rooming together is inappropriate before marriage, but I think that’s hardly her first reason.
After dropping off my things, I head downstairs and find Hailey stocking a bar cart in the parlor. She gives me a sheepish wave when our eyes meet. That’s all that she can do while she’s hired on as staff for the night. I hate that I’m not serving next to her.
It feels wildly unfair when she’s the one who has Jake’s true affections. Our positions should be reversed. I should be waiting tables tonight, and she should be wearing the glittery floor-length dress.
I leave the parlor, on the prowl for my mark.
Where is Claudia? She’s usually lounging in a den or parlor, being waited on as if she hails from aristocracy and not a beer empire. After checking all three parlors and the smoker’s den, I beeline for the dining room.
She might be ordering the staff to switch the centerpieces or polish the flatware. As soon as I step in the door, I freeze.
What in the…?
Trevor.
As in Trevor Tinrock.
Outfitted in a stunning black tux, he’s huddled with a violinist, cellist, and violist. As if he knows them. Not only that, he grips the neck of a sleek violin, a bow in his other hand.
He’s here as a musician?!
Hold yourself together, Phoebe. I wash emotion off my face.
No one—he told no one that he’d be joining the string quartet for tonight’s dinner. He went incredibly, wildly rogue.