Conquer Your Love by J. C. Reed Page A

being
melodramatic—and loving it. At least she wasn’t crying.
    “For heaven’s sake. Stop being a pussy,” I ordered as I focused on
removing a splinter from her left foot with a pair of tweezers. “It’s not like
I’m sawing off your foot.”
    The piece of wooden splinter was so tiny I had to use a needle to push
it around. We had tried softening the skin with water and soap and then with
alcohol, but it was in too deep. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I managed
to grip the end of the splitter and, pushing against it with the needle, I
raised it enough to pull it out with the tweezers.
    “Thanks.” Sylvie rubbed her sore foot, her other leg dangling from the
bench. “I was walking barefoot in the grass when I stepped on a branch. Where
have you been? I had to hop around the house on one foot and managed to hurt my
ankle in the process.”
    I handed the tweezers back to her, mentally searching for an excuse. Of
course I could tell Sylvie about the chapel and Jett’s claims because she was
my best friend, the only one I really trusted. But what was the point in
scaring her based on nothing but assumptions? Besides, I wasn’t ready to tell
her about my lunch with Jett. Not when I didn’t yet know what
to do about him.
    “I was thinking of going for a walk. Did you know Alessandro has his own
pool? Maybe you should use it rather than the lake.”
    “Yeah.” She tested her foot tenderly, wincing, then hobbled across the
kitchen and back. “It feels so much better.”
    I heaved a long sigh. “That’s great.”
    Opening the fridge, I pulled out two cans of soda and handed her one.
She didn’t open it.
    “When are you going to see him again?” Sylvie asked.
    “Who?” I blinked in confusion. Jett had been on my mind for hours, and
for a moment I thought she meant him —until
it dawned on me Sylvie had to be talking about Alessandro. “I don’t know. He’s
really sick and every day’s a struggle. Clarkson expects us to stay a week,
during which I hope we’ll get to talk again.”
    Sylvie’s eyes narrowed on me. “And then what?”
    Good question. “To be honest, I have no idea.” I still couldn’t get over
the fact that this huge property would soon belong to me. The least I could do
was stick around for a little bit longer, even though the initial excitement
had dissipated at the outlook of living in a bizarre club’s former meeting
point, if not domicile.
    “I do.” Sylvie inched closer and squeezed my hands, her blue eyes
searching mine. “Ever since we arrived here you’ve been on edge. You’ve always
been a bit of a worrier, but I’ve never seen you so absentminded and weird.” In
spite of her frown, her voice became softer, soothing even. “I want you to come
back with me. Let Clarkson deal with the estate, rent it out if you want, but
this isn’t you. It’s not your kind of life. Why make yourself miserable just
because you feel you owe someone something?”
    I stared at her. “That’s not the case at all. I’m—”
    She grimaced and nodded. “You’re a people pleaser, Brooke.”
    How could I tell her that, yes, I had accepted Alessandro’s invitation
because it was his wish to meet with me. But right now I was ready to stay
because a mystery kept me here. I was intrigued and wanted to find out more
about the estate and the people who once lived here. And if
Jett was right, then I wouldn’t be safe anywhere—not here, and not back
home. They would come after me. The prospect felt surreal, yet scared
the crap out of me.
    “I’ll come back with you once I’m ready,” I said.
    Sylvie shrugged and opened her soda can. “I need to check out my
Facebook page, see how my friends are doing. I’ve been neglecting them.”
    “Sure.” I wanted to point out that most of her neglected friends weren’t people she had ever met, but I kept my
thoughts to myself.
      Luckily for us, Alessandro
had internet access in the library, where Sylvie could
use his computer. It