With the trio still blatantly staring at her, Elle nonchalantly brought a mug down from the cupboard, retrieved her tea leaf strainer from the drawer, and put the chai vanilla-flavored tea into the ball strainer. She set it in her cup, added boiling water from the instant hot water dispenser, and waited for the flavors in the leaves to steep.
“Where were you last night?” Helena finally asked, breaking the awkward silence that had descended over the room when Elle had walked in.
Elle reached for the small jar of sugar from the cupboard, not bothering to glance her stepmother’s way. “That’s none of your business.”
Helena exhaled on an annoyed huff before she spoke again. “I heard that you met Hunter Wilder and his sister to show them the building in Williamsburg, and I’m assuming you spent the night with him again?” Her voice dripped with disdain.
Elle exhaled a deep, calming breath, telling herself not to engage. It didn’t matter that the three of them knew—or rather, assumed—that she’d slept with Hunter the night of the fairy-tale ball since she’d spent the evening with him and then had come home in the early-morning hours. Or that Helena was making the same assumption now. She wasn’t about to confirm or deny their suspicions.
With her tea properly steeped, she removed the ball strainer, set it in the sink, and added a small amount of sugar to the light brown liquid. “Again, I’m a grown woman, and where I spend my evenings is none of your concern.”
“A man like Hunter Wilder is way out of your league, Elaina, and it’s just a matter of time before he gets tired of you,” Helena said bitterly. “You do realize that, don’t you?”
Elle brought her cup up to her lips, blew on the steaming liquid, then took a small sip of the vanilla chai brew. “He can’t get tired of me, because I’m not dating him.”
“Just sleeping with him?” Gwen jumped in with her snide comment, though there was an undercurrent of jealousy in her tone. “When did you become such a slut?”
It took effort not to wince at the slur, and her stepmother was quick to add insult to injury. “I know you met him at the fairy-tale ball, but he’s not your Prince Charming, Elaina. Men like Hunter Wilder want a beautiful, sophisticated woman on their arm. Not a haggard-looking one.”
The words were always painful, but Elle was confident in how beautiful she was to Hunter. Not only did he use words to tell her, but every touch, every kiss, every caress reaffirmed that he found her sexy and desirable. Her stepmother could never take that away from her.
Done being the focus of their derogatory comments, Elle turned toward the table and finally glanced at the three of them . . . Helena looking down her nose at her even though she was sitting lower than Elle was standing, Gwen with a bitchy smirk curving her lips, and Claire . . . who hadn’t said a word and had what looked to be an oddly concerned look on her face.
Every once in a while, Elle sensed that Claire felt bad about the horrible way Helena and Gwen treated her, like now. Oh, there had been times that the younger of her two stepsisters had gotten her digs in with Gwen urging her on, but over the past year, she’d grown quieter and not as quick to pile insults on top of the ones her mother and sister heaped on Elle.
Elle met Helena’s narrowed gaze. After talking to Hunter this morning about the situation with the house and business, she finally felt like she had a plan of action to offer Helena what she wanted and seemed to never get enough of—money—and in return, Elle would take the realty company, which her stepmother wasn’t interested in, anyway. Except for the money she could squeeze out of it. At least Elle would have one thing all to herself that had belonged to her parents.
Elle set her mug of tea on the counter. “Helena, we need to have a serious conversation about selling this house,” she said, and could have sworn she saw something akin to fear flash through her stepmother’s gaze at the suggestion. “There is over four hundred thousand dollars in equity, which gives me enough to buy out your half of the business, and you’d have a lot of money to start over somewhere else. Once the house is sold, we can go our separate ways instead of living together when none of us are happy with that arrangement, anyway.”
Helena shook her head, her chin tipping up adamantly. “I’m not selling this house.”
Elle forcibly tamped down her frustration, and despite the fact that she’d expected her stepmother to be difficult, she didn’t let Helena’s attitude deter her. “Why not?”
“Because . . . because it’s finally the way I want it to be after all the money I’ve spent on redesigning and redecorating every single room in this house!”
Helena’s heated response took Elle aback. Her reasoning didn’t make sense, and if she said what she really wanted to say, she didn’t think her stepmother would appreciate her mentioning that she’d redecorated every room in the house . . . except for Elle’s maid quarters. Helena had systematically erased every trace of her mother’s warm touch in the house in what had to be a costly six-figure expense.
“Okay, then we refinance,” Elle suggested reasonably. “I’ll take half the equity less what it takes to buy out your part of the company, and you can keep the house.”
Helena abruptly stood up, her demeanor so rattled that even her daughters glanced at her curiously. “There isn’t enough equity for you to buy out my half of the business, so it looks like we’re stuck at an impasse.”
> Elle disagreed. Now that Hunter had planted the seed, she was determined to see this through. It made the most sense, and it would finally give Elle her life back. And once she straightened things out in her personal life and business affairs with Helena, maybe then she could think about pursuing a relationship with Hunter.
“Come on, girls,” Helena said in a sharp tone. “We have hair and nail appointments and shopping to do today.”
“Not with the company credit card,” Elle said boldly, not caring that her comment earned her a scathing look from her stepmother.
“Don’t worry, Elaina,” she sneered. “I do have my own bank account and money.”
With Helena so agitated, Gwen and Claire scurried from their seats at the table, put their dirty dishes in the sink, then disappeared from the kitchen, which gave Elle the opportunity to make sure that her stepmother knew how serious she was and that she wasn’t going to let Helena walk all over her any longer.
“We’re not done with this conversation,” Elle said, embracing a newfound strength and confidence inside of her while holding her stepmother’s livid gaze. “Even if I have to get a lawyer involved.”
“You don’t want to cross me, Elle.”
Ignoring that threatening parting remark, Elle picked up her tea and went into her bedroom. She shut the door and deliberately locked it behind her because there was such a murderous look in Helena’s eyes that it chilled Elle to the bone. A few minutes later, she heard the three of them leave, and when the house was finally quiet, Elle stripped off her clothes and got into the shower.
She washed her body and shampooed and conditioned her hair, rinsed off, and enjoyed her cup of hot tea while she applied a light amount of makeup. She dried her hair, changed into a casual, comfortable dress and sandals, and headed back to work for the day, despite the start of a headache that she was sure had been brought on by the confrontation with Helena.