friend to something definitely illegal, he had to ask. “You’re...sure, Gina? Your stepmother is horrible, I don’t doubt that. But you really think Mike will find this evidence?”
Her eyes darkened, lids fell and long lashes swept down to hide her gaze for a moment. “I don’t know why she does what she does, but it’s true, Brennen. She is that cruel. Maybe she resented me because Dad left things to me, which meant less money for her. Maybe she thought I’d leave by now and when she realized I wasn’t, she decided to try selling. I just know she terrifies me and she’s absolutely capable of doing it.”
He gave her arms a squeeze and drew her to him, holding her tight and breathing her in. “Okay. Let’s get things in place and Mike will go in tomorrow night.”
Chapter Eleven
Gina had slid the invitation on the table in front of Maureen that evening before she went to make dinner, throwing a, “I was informed you hadn’t received an invitation. That is for you and the girls.” Maureen simply raised a slim, ice-blonde brow and said nothing, and Gina added nothing more, continuing with her chores for the evening while dinner cooked. With any luck, her time as free labor would be severely limited once Brennen’s friend looked around.
Brennen had an extra copy of her house key cut and would deliver it to his friend for her; she would later confirm for him when her stepmother and stepsisters had gone, Brennen would tell Mike when they’d arrived, and then his friend’s team would enter and do their thing.
Nervousness twisted her stomach and she barely slept a wink Friday night, everything from fear she’d somehow be caught to worry something would go wrong with the party.
The party would officially begin at four in the afternoon, though Gina’s part in things began at seven in the morning. Brennen’s father sent a car for her and immediately she went to work, finishing the baking work she’d done the day before and preparing everything that had to be fresh. Cookies and cakes, decadent squares and tarts. The rich desserts would rival the hors d’oeuvres being served.
Just as the first guests started to arrive a half hour prematurely, Gina exited the house to be driven back to her home again. She could’ve gotten cleaned up and dressed at the Prescotts’ but she wanted to see Maureen, Tatum, and Tamara out the door and ensure they were coming.
Skies had remained clear as early evening came, which would benefit the guests who wandered the gardens at the Prescott estate prior to the big cake reveal. The Prescott car brought Gina to her house and then looped around the block, heading off to pick someone else up. They’d return for her in ninety minutes or so, she knew, giving her time to get ready and then she could arrive like any other guest.
Maureen’s car was in the driveway. Gina walked past it, her feet and back already aching, and headed through the front door. The large house was mostly silent except the tapping of heels upstairs, likely Tatum and Tamara getting ready. Gina skipped the main staircase and instead crossed through the kitchen to the old servant stairs so she could reach her room without running into the others.
Her stepsisters’ voices carried, not audible words but giggles and mumbles. They probably should’ve left already but then they’d take extra time dressing and preparing, and Maureen would be shrieking at them to hurry up until her voice rang through the house and Gina ended up with a headache.
Soon they’ll be gone. The shop will be mine and I’ll never have to listen to this again.
It seemed both within her grasp and impossibly far away at the same time.
In her dark musky attic bedroom, Gina stripped from the clothes she’d worn all day for baking and slipped her old bathrobe on. Before heading to the bathroom, she stopped at the far closet and pulled the creaky door open. It was storage, mainly, boxes and trunks of items that used to
Her eyes darkened, lids fell and long lashes swept down to hide her gaze for a moment. “I don’t know why she does what she does, but it’s true, Brennen. She is that cruel. Maybe she resented me because Dad left things to me, which meant less money for her. Maybe she thought I’d leave by now and when she realized I wasn’t, she decided to try selling. I just know she terrifies me and she’s absolutely capable of doing it.”
He gave her arms a squeeze and drew her to him, holding her tight and breathing her in. “Okay. Let’s get things in place and Mike will go in tomorrow night.”
Chapter Eleven
Gina had slid the invitation on the table in front of Maureen that evening before she went to make dinner, throwing a, “I was informed you hadn’t received an invitation. That is for you and the girls.” Maureen simply raised a slim, ice-blonde brow and said nothing, and Gina added nothing more, continuing with her chores for the evening while dinner cooked. With any luck, her time as free labor would be severely limited once Brennen’s friend looked around.
Brennen had an extra copy of her house key cut and would deliver it to his friend for her; she would later confirm for him when her stepmother and stepsisters had gone, Brennen would tell Mike when they’d arrived, and then his friend’s team would enter and do their thing.
Nervousness twisted her stomach and she barely slept a wink Friday night, everything from fear she’d somehow be caught to worry something would go wrong with the party.
The party would officially begin at four in the afternoon, though Gina’s part in things began at seven in the morning. Brennen’s father sent a car for her and immediately she went to work, finishing the baking work she’d done the day before and preparing everything that had to be fresh. Cookies and cakes, decadent squares and tarts. The rich desserts would rival the hors d’oeuvres being served.
Just as the first guests started to arrive a half hour prematurely, Gina exited the house to be driven back to her home again. She could’ve gotten cleaned up and dressed at the Prescotts’ but she wanted to see Maureen, Tatum, and Tamara out the door and ensure they were coming.
Skies had remained clear as early evening came, which would benefit the guests who wandered the gardens at the Prescott estate prior to the big cake reveal. The Prescott car brought Gina to her house and then looped around the block, heading off to pick someone else up. They’d return for her in ninety minutes or so, she knew, giving her time to get ready and then she could arrive like any other guest.
Maureen’s car was in the driveway. Gina walked past it, her feet and back already aching, and headed through the front door. The large house was mostly silent except the tapping of heels upstairs, likely Tatum and Tamara getting ready. Gina skipped the main staircase and instead crossed through the kitchen to the old servant stairs so she could reach her room without running into the others.
Her stepsisters’ voices carried, not audible words but giggles and mumbles. They probably should’ve left already but then they’d take extra time dressing and preparing, and Maureen would be shrieking at them to hurry up until her voice rang through the house and Gina ended up with a headache.
Soon they’ll be gone. The shop will be mine and I’ll never have to listen to this again.
It seemed both within her grasp and impossibly far away at the same time.
In her dark musky attic bedroom, Gina stripped from the clothes she’d worn all day for baking and slipped her old bathrobe on. Before heading to the bathroom, she stopped at the far closet and pulled the creaky door open. It was storage, mainly, boxes and trunks of items that used to
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