“What I never understood about this story is, why would he lie? It seems like something that would be easy enough to verify. Didn’t he know that would come next?”
She shrugs. “It’s not really about the miller. The story is about his daughter.”
“The one who can’t spin straw into gold.”
A sudden grin. “That’s kind of what you did, isn’t it? Turned those pieces of concrete and splashes of paint into gold. That’s pretty magical of you, miller’s daughter.”
I groan. “You aren’t going to let that go, are you?”
“Nope.”
“The only reason my protest was such big news is because Christopher tried to tear down the library. He’s the one who gave me the cause to protest.”
“Like Rumpelstiltskin,” she says, her tone musing. “She could only do it with his help.”
A horrible thought occurs to me. A horrible, terrible, painful thought. One that makes my limbs turn cold. “Oh my God, did he do it on purpose? Was that his plan all along?”
“What are you talking about?”
“He knew I would stage the protest and then the land would be worth more, which would give him way more profit and a lot faster than actually developing it.” Christopher made more money this way than his stupid mall—and he made it a lot faster, too.
She looks dubious. “That would be really… diabolical.”
“Exactly. He’s so diabolical. If we look up the word ‘diabolical’ in one of the old dictionaries here, there will be Christopher’s face with his dark eyes and cheekbones.”
“His cheekbones.” She snorts. “I don’t know if he did it on purpose, but if he did… well, it’s interesting that he knows you that well. Well enough to predict what you’d do.”
Interesting? No, it’s terrible. Because I don’t know that man at all. I never thought he’d use me. I believed him when he said he wanted to build that shiny new mall. Believed him when he said he planned to tear down the library.
And I believed him when he said he wouldn’t hurt me.
“Do you really think he did it on purpose?” Avery asks softly, her soft gaze on the old ink. “It would have been easier to just siphon money out of your trust fund.”
I wrap my arms around myself. Is it possible? Avery’s gaze is warm and concerned. The certainty settles deep inside me, a knot in my stomach. Yes, it’s very possible. Likely, even.
He used me. He predicted what I would do.
“Christopher isn’t the kind of man who wants things easy. He would have considered that cheating. But manipulating people? He considers that fair game. He knows I’ve protested before. Only this time I had connections and a social media platform. And voila!”
“He isn’t your father,” Avery says softly.
“Isn’t he?” Another man who values money over kindness, who places his ambition ahead of the women in his life. “He could have sold me the library for what they paid for it. He could have doubled the sale price and still made a nice profit.”
The realization puts a stop to whatever fantasy I’d been spinning in my head about Christopher Bardot suddenly realizing he were in love with me. I kind of wish we were at Koi again, just so I could throw another oyster shell in his face.
After I’ve swallowed what’s inside of course. It was too delicious to waste.
Her nose scrunches. “It is kind of mean.”
A shiver runs through me, because that’s what I called him last night. Mean. Has he crossed the same Rubicon that my father did? Or was Christopher always this way, with me too wide-eyed infatuated to know it? “How are you and Gabriel?” I ask because I need to hear something positive. There’s a rich and ambitious man who doesn’t think loving someone makes him weak. Those two are crazy in love, despite their wicked beginning—or maybe because of it.
“We’re good.” She closes the book of fairy tales and walks back into the main hall.
Surprise freezes me where I stand. It takes me a full minute to follow her and demand an explanation. “Good. Good? What happened to I love Gabriel, he’s the best, and he gives me so many orgasms?”
A blush darkens her cheeks. “Well, there are still orgasms.”
“Does he snore?” I ask sympathetically.