Change of Heart (19 page)

“Okay then,” I say. “What else?”

“What
else
?” Amanda chuckles. “That should be reason enough for anybody to hate their father.”

“You said Rich grew up in a broken home.”

Amanda leans toward me. “That much is true. After his mother died, a parade of women started visiting his father. All his…
mistresses
.” Amanda grimaces. “It kept up until Richard left. Hell, it probably continues to this day.”

So Amanda doesn’t know his farther is in jail
. “Interesting.”

“He never made time for Richard, either. It was either his work, or his women. You can see how a boy growing up in an environment like that can become spiteful.”

“Yeah. What happened to prompt Rich to finally leave, though?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

Amanda bites her lip. “I don’t doubt he would if you ask…” she trails off and glances at the clock. “But I’ve got a few more minutes. You know Richard got accepted to Princeton, right?”

My eyebrows shoot up. “The Ivy League school? No.”

Amanda grins proudly. “Yeah. He doesn’t mention it much. But his father was an alumnus. Same with his grandfather. In fact, all the men in the Blackthorne family had traditionally been educated at Princeton.”

“I mean, I knew Rich was sharp, but
Ivy League
smart?” I pause. “That’s impressive.”

“Don’t go telling
him
that, though,” Amanda warns. “That’s one surefire way to set him off.”

“What?” I ask, puzzled. “Why?”

“He doesn’t put much stock in traditional methods of education. Or in the traditional value of money. He’s seen what both did to his father.”

“But I met him at the community college. You did too, right?”

“That’s where he went instead of Princeton.”

“That’s traditional education, isn’t it? Except much less prestigious.”

Amanda laughs with contempt. “Don’t mention ‘prestige’ to him, either. He’ll light up faster than a forest in a heat wave.”

“Fine. But why go to a community college when you could go to Princeton?”

“So he doesn’t end up like his father, for one,” Amanda explains. “For another, I think it allowed him to go at his own pace. It’s much less cut-throat here than on the east coast.”

“I can imagine,” I say. In high school, I’d seen the sort of competitiveness that drives kids toward acceptances in the country’s top colleges. Stories of sabotage and betrayal filtered down through the grapevine. Some had been absolutely appalling. One girl faked her own
suicide
to get the school to close down for a day, just so she could have extra time to study for a test. The year after, she matriculated at Harvard. “Still, if Rich is so smart, I don’t see how he can be satisfied with taking what are more-or-less remedial high school classes.”

“He reads a lot,” Amanda says. “You’ve been to his apartment, right? You’ve seen all the books on his shelves? They’re like his only possessions—other than the bed.” She purses her lips and looks uncertain for a moment. “Unless he’s changed the place around.”

A light comes on in my head. So
that’s
what all the boxes in his hall were. His books. Of course he’d want them out of harm’s way when it came time for his friends to trash the place. “No, it’s still exactly like that.”

Amanda smiles. “See? You’ve got to learn to piece these things together, Penelope.”

I shrug off the slightly-provoking comment. “So Rich didn’t go to Princeton. Is that what caused the rift between him and his father?”

“I’d say the rift was there long before. Princeton was more like the straw that broke the camel’s back. His father kicked him out of the house when he refused to go. But Richard was getting set to leave, anyway.”

“Hmm. And he was what, eighteen, when it happened?”

Amanda nods.

“How long ago was that?”

Amanda blows out her cheeks. “Um, it must have been seven, eight years ago now.” She seems surprised by the number. “Wow. I’ve known him for almost a decade. Sure doesn’t feel that long.”

I feel another spike of jealousy in my stomach. I’d only been eleven or twelve when Amanda first met Rich. They had a history together. He and I, on the other hand, had… what? A single night of passion followed by the worst kind of adventure possible? Knowing what I do now about the circumstances of that night, I can’t even be sure he was ever attracted to me. He just chose me because I looked like his
sister
.

I’m being stupid, I know. Yet a tiny part of me held out hope that maybe the reason Rich came back to rescue me was that somewhere deep inside, he felt something for me.

I shake my head in disgust. It’s a vain hope. And totally misplaced. Rich hasn’t shown any interest in me since. We’ve already spent two nights under the same roof. He’d just felt guilty about leaving me, that’s all. I’m sure the same thing would have happened with any other girl he picked out to fool Tam and Victor.

“He has a sister, too, you know,” Amanda announces without warning. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you don’t. He doesn’t talk about her.
Ever
. But, the way you look just now…” Amanda laughs. “It’s kind of silly, but I swear to God, you remind of a picture I saw of her once.” She narrows her eyes. “It’s uncanny, really, now that I think about it. The resemblance between you two. Of course, she’d been younger than you in the picture, and her hair was longer…” Amanda trails off in thought. “It’s a wonder I only saw it now.”

Something Amanda said caught my ear. “Rich doesn’t talk about his sister? Why?”

“He blames himself for not being able to take her with him when he left New York. She’d been too young to understand the truth about their father. Richard didn’t want her to grow up in the same environment he did, but couldn’t just pick her up and go, either. She was still his father’s daughter, and underage besides. That would have been kidnapping.”

“Has he talked to her since leaving?” I prod carefully.

“I think not. When I met him, he always said he’d get in touch with her when she was older. Who knows?” Amanda looks back at the clock and grimaces. “And now,” she announces, “you’ve officially made me late for work.”

“Sorry,” I say. “And thanks for the breakfast.”

“Sure. Just clean up after yourself, will you? I hate coming home to a dirty kitchen. Oh! Don’t give any scraps to Mel, either. She’ll beg and whimper, but they’re bad for her.”

“Sure thing.” I feel a little guilty for the pieces of food I’d been sneaking under the table to the retriever this whole time. “Amanda? Before you go, can I ask you something?”

“Make it quick,” she says, shrugging into a jacket she’d left on the counter.

I take a deep breath. “It’s about Rich. You don’t… still
love
him do you?”

My question catches her off guard. She freezes in the motion of pulling the jacket over her arms.

“No,” she says finally. “No, of course not.” She laughs, but it has an uneasy edge to it. “Why?” Her eyes suddenly become hard. “Do I give off that impression?”

“No, no,” I retreat. “Definitely not. I was just making sure, that’s all.”

“Well, that’s a rude, stupid question to ask,” she grumbles. “Forget what I said about cleaning up. Just… don’t touch anything while I’m gone, okay?”

Before I have a chance to answer, she storms out of the kitchen. I hear the front door slam a few moments later.

Mel whimpers and looks up at me. I scratch her neck. “What a mess,” I whisper to her.

Despite Amanda’s denial, I can tell I’d struck a nerve. I know she definitely has feelings for Rich.

Chapter
Eleven

I hear Rich’s truck in the driveway only a few minutes after Amanda leaves. The front door opens just as I round the corner to it. A wet, dripping Rich stomps in.

“God,” he complains. “It’s a shit storm out there.” He shakes off his soaked jacket and throws it to the floor. Then he notices me.

I don’t know if it’s just my imagination, but his eyes seem to light up when they land on me. “Look who finally decided to wake up! We missed you at breakfast.”

I smile. “So I heard.”

“Was Amanda still here when you woke? Good. I was afraid you’d get up and freak out with both of us gone. I wrote you a note—” Rich gives a sheepish grin, “—but I forgot it in my pocket when I left.”

“Did you, now?” I ask, curious. “Let me see.”

Rich hesitates, and then pulls out a crumpled, yellow Post-It from his jeans. The paper is soaked through. He hands it to me. I flatten it against my leg, then try to read it. The black ink has run.

“‘
Penny
,’” I start, struggling to make out the letters, “‘
I had to leave early but will be back. Rich.
’” I perk an eyebrow at him. “Very poetic.”

Rich snatches it from my hand. “Don’t make fun! I’m not one for long-winded letters.”

“Clearly,” I say, following him into the house. Mel runs up to us and barks happily. I kneel down and rub her belly.

Rich raises an eyebrow. “You’re friends with the dog now?”

I give him a significant look. “Her name is
Mel
. And yes. She and I have taken a liking to each other.”

“Quite the opposite of you and Amanda, huh?”

“Actually, Amanda and I are getting along, too. We talked for a long time last night after you fell asleep.”

Rich looks surprised. “You did? She didn’t mention that to me. Does that mean I won’t have to worry about leaving you two together anymore?”

“I think I can manage,” I say. “Besides, if anything goes wrong, I’ve got Mel as backup.”

“I don’t know if you want to test a dog’s loyalty to her owner,” Rich muses. “But I trust you’ve got enough sense for that.”

“
Finally
you’re giving me some credit,” I say sarcastically. “So where were you this morning? Amanda didn’t know anything other than that you had to go run some ‘errands.’” I make air-quotes with my fingers. “Anything to do with what happened to us?”

“Yeah,” Rich nods. “But let me change out of these wet clothes before I tell you.”

He starts down the hall to our
room. Before he shuts the door, he calls out over one shoulder, “Oh, and you’ll be happy to know that I got stitched up by a doctor.” He pauses. “
Mom
.”

***

I decide to shower while Rich is changing. When I get back to my room, a towel wrapped around my chest, I find my old clothes gone from the bed where I’d left them. Instead, there’s an unmarked brown paper bag in their place.

Curious, I open it—and find an entire set of new clothing inside. There’s a pair of dark jeans, a few plain blouses, and two t-shirts. There’s a black sweater a lot like the one I own, and—at the very bottom—a very skimpy set of blue-lace lingerie.

I pick up the bra and inspect the tag. He got me a 34B. I smile. It looks like a perfect fit.

“Rich?” I call out. “What did you do with my old clothes?”

“I got you new ones!” he yells from somewhere far away. “What do you think?”

“I haven’t tried them on yet!”

“I figured you needed something to change into other than what you had on when you met me!” Silence. Then, without warning, the door creaks open and his head pops in.

“Richard!” I spin around, clutching the towel to my chest. Blood rushes to my cheeks. He’d seen me naked, yes, but things have changed since then. “Get out!”

“I want to see what you look like in your new clothes,” he says casually. I peek over my shoulder. He makes no indication of moving. It doesn’t help that the blush on my face is accentuated by a growing warmth between my legs.

“Out,” I order him.

He doesn’t move. He has a wolfish grin on his face. “I’m particularly proud of the lingerie I picked out. I got your size right, didn’t I?”

“Out!” I scream, throwing a pillow at him. It smacks him right in the face. “Out, out, out!”

“All right, all right. Jeez.” He grins one last time before closing the door, not an ounce of remorse on his face.

***

A few minutes later, I emerge wearing the jeans and sweater Rich got me. Everything’s a perfect fit. I find him leaning against one wall, arms crossed, eyes contemplative. When he sees me, the look fades. He flashes an easy grin.

“So?” I ask, spinning to show off my new jeans and sweater. “What do you think?”

“Spin around again,” he suggests.

I offer a wry smile and do another little twirl. He laughs.

“They fit you, all right,” Rich says. “Though dark colors aren’t really your style. They make you look kind of Goth.”

I slap him on the arm. “You’re the one who got them for me!” Then I consider what he said. “And this isn’t even remotely close to
Goth
. I’d have to bust out so much eyeliner and shadow for that you wouldn’t even recognize me.”