Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 44127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Waverly makes a face. “I haven’t talked to her, and please do not say anything, but…” she shrugs. “I’m not sure everything is sunshiny in paradise.”
“Shit, really?”
She nods.
“What makes you think that?”
Waverly grins. “Her room has been quiet.”
I laugh. Waverly’s room is across the hall from Sasha’s. Charlie’s already visited once since she moved into the dorms, and Waverly basically spent the week in my room on the other side of the building to get away from the constant and loud sex sounds.
“It’s quiet?”
“Yeah, and I even saw Sasha going to class, which is usually not even close to a thing when Charlie’s visiting.”
“Hope they’re okay.”
Waverly grins mischievously. “I mean, do you?”
I laugh. We’re on the same page about Charlie being kind of a dud for our bubbly, cool friend.
“Aright, I gotta get to training.”
I frown. “Now? We don’t have swim practice today?”
I mean, granted, Waverly is the golden goddess of the swim team, and may very well swim in the Olympics someday, but still.
She blushes as she quickly scoops up her stuff.
“Yeah, it’s… last minute stuff. Camden wants me to work on my hundred-meter breaststroke.”
I arch a brow. “Oh Camden, is it?”
She blushes fiercely.
“Not ‘Coach Kirby’?”
“We’ve just been working together a lot, that’s all. For training.”
I grin, eyeing her. “Sure, for training. Is he showing you the best way to breaststroke?”
Her blush turns downright scarlet, and I laugh. I love how flustered she gets sometimes. I mean, you’d almost think from her reaction that there was something going on with her and our coach, but I’m positive there isn’t. Not with “always driven, always training, dedication is everything and I don’t have time for boys” Waverly Owens. The blush is, I’m sure, mostly just because Coach Kirby is freaking gorgeous. I mean there’s not a girl on the team who wouldn’t want a one-on-one lesson on “breast stroking.”
“Oh, go swim, dork. Then maybe you can take out your hormones of being wet and half naked in a pool with Coach Kirby on this new mystery guy of yours.”
She blushes again, nodding quickly.
“See you later?”
I nod. “Yep.”
She scampers off, and I shake my head, going back to the studying. But after another half an hour, I’m burnt out anyways. I pack my stuff up and head out of the library, crossing campus in the direction of the Principal’s manor, my heart beating faster with every step. I’ve become a pro at this the last few days. There’s a hedge and iron fence around Colton’s back garden, and a path that leads behind that to some faculty parking lot. But the path itself is heavily wooded with weeping willow trees, and I’ve learned pretty fast that you can duck under the branches and sneak to the back fence, and if someone’s left the gate open—like Colton always does—you can slip right in without a single person seeing you.
My pulse skips as I grin to myself, hugging my hoodie tighter against the autumn wind as I half skip towards his place.
“Ms. Henley?”
I whirl, the scream catching on my throat and my face going white before my eyes focus on who I’m actually looking at.
A woman. Not Lorenzo or any of his goons. She looks to be in her mid-twenties, and pretty if not severe looking in a sharp business suit and her dark hair pulled back almost painfully.
“I’m so sorry,” she smiles wryly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Do I know you?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m afraid you don’t.” She frowns, looking down at a pile of manila file envelopes in her hands. “Ms. Henley, I work with your father at his organization.”
My mouth dries, my lips tightening.
“I see.”
“Oh, no. No, I…” she frowns again, stammering. “Can I call you Brynn?”
“Who are you?”
“Sorry,” she stammers. “My name is Olivia Simpter.”
“And you work with my dad?”
“I did.”
She frowns. “Brynn, it’s been brought to my attention—well, to a few of us who worked at the…” her frown deepens. “Well, the fraud, it appears.”
“What has?”
“That you’re holding back on talking to the authorities or giving any testimony against your father.”
I eye her. “He’s my dad.”
“I realize that, and I know that makes this so much harder, but…” she shakes her head. “You need to hear this.”
“Ms. Simpter, I’m very aware of what my father did—”
“No, you aren’t,” she says quietly. “Not even half of it.”
I swallow. “What?”
“Defrauding his investors? That was just the tip of the iceberg. I think he planned to keep it going for as long as he could, but realized the authorities were on to him for… well, other things.”
A cold shiver teases through me.
“Excuse me?”
“Do you maybe want to go somewhere and—”
“I don’t know you, Ms. Simpter. Right here is fine.”
She smiles. “Of course.”
“So? What else do you think he—”
“You can call me Olivia, Brynn. And I don’t ‘think’ anything.” She bites her lip before she sighs. “It might be best for you to see for yourself.”