Nate looked at the coffee service, which they had barely touched, and wrinkled his nose. “It’s crappy coffee anyway.” She could almost read his thoughts, watching his face as he considered making another wisecrack about Crane and then thought better of it. It made her think he might be capable of learning after all.
“I’ll come by again tomorrow to see how you’re doing,” Nate promised, folding her into a hug that felt better than it had any right to. “Call me if you need anything.” He pulled away from the hug, and a hint of his usual playful smile curved his lips. “I don’t have my phone on me at the moment, but I won’t be able to avoid Dad forever, and once he’s ripped into me, I’ll stop playing hide-and-seek. Until then, if you need me, call Fischer’s number. He’ll be stuck to my side like glue for the rest of the day.”
Nadia returned his smile while fighting a yawn. Funny how feigning the need for a nap had turned into a very real need. “Be careful,” she warned him, the smile fading as fast as it had come. She didn’t think he was in any danger, but she worried his impulsiveness and his desire to find Bishop would lead to disaster for Bishop. Only she couldn’t explain that without initiating the very conversation she was trying to avoid, so she hurried to clarify. “I don’t suppose whoever killed you has any reason to do it again when you’re not going to stay dead, but…”
Nate acknowledged her warning grimly. “I’ll be careful,” he promised.
If only Nadia thought Nate’s idea of “careful” was careful enough.
Nadia could have used her illness as an excuse to stay in bed all day, but the idea of being alone with her thoughts wasn’t the least bit appealing. She needed distraction, even if the available distractions had their own drawbacks, so when lunchtime rolled around, she presented herself in the dining room to face her mother, this time with no sympathy-inducing symptoms to smooth the waters.
To her surprise, Nadia’s father joined them for lunch. Ordinarily, he ate lunch, and often even dinner, at the office. He hugged her warmly, then directed the lunchtime conversation to anything other than the events of the day before. Her mother played along, and Nadia wondered if the two of them had reached some sort of agreement before Nadia had shown up. They were acting like nothing unusual had happened, as if by pretending Nadia hadn’t spent the whole day being questioned at the security station they could make the ugly incident disappear. In truth, Nadia was hardly eager to talk about the subject herself, but it felt strange and unnatural to sit at the table and talk about social events and trivialities after what she’d gone through.
Her mother excused herself as soon as the servants began to clear the lunch dishes, and Nadia had the feeling that for once in her life, Esmeralda Lake had found making small talk burdensome. Nadia would have excused herself just as quickly, except her father stopped her, putting his arm around her shoulders and steering her to a corner where they could talk without being in the servants’ way.
“How are you feeling, my dear?” he asked, looking down at her with concerned eyes.
If he really wanted to hear how she felt, he wouldn’t have asked her here in the bustle of the dining room. Some Executives treated servants as if they were deaf and blind, but her father had never been one of them. With him, private conversations were held in private, and Nadia tamped down a sense of hurt. She’d known better than to expect a genuine outpouring of sympathy from her mother, but she’d hoped for more from her father.
“Much better,” she answered, because that was the answer he was expecting. She hoped he couldn’t see how stung she was.
He nodded approvingly. “Good, good,” he said, making eye contact only briefly. “Are you well enough to attend class this afternoon?”
Nadia blinked in surprise at the question. Of all the things he could be concerned about, that was what he felt was important?
Unlike Employees, Executive kids didn’t go to school but were instead privately tutored in the subjects deemed most relevant to their future lives. In order to provide a social outlet, some Executive families hosted small study groups at their homes, where a tutor was brought in to educate several students. The Lake family hosted an economics session on weekday afternoons, and Nadia was fastidious about attending, even though the group included Jewel and Blair, two-thirds of the Terrible Trio. The group also included her closest friend—other than Nate—Chloe Rathburn. Nadia wasn’t anxious to face any of them today, not even Chloe, who would undoubtedly want a full account of everything that had happened. Chloe was sweet, and Nadia genuinely liked her, but she had never been terribly sympathetic to Nadia’s struggles with Nate. If Chloe were in Nadia’s shoes, she’d do whatever Nate wanted whenever he wanted it, and she didn’t understand why Nadia didn’t feel the same way.
Of course, Nadia had already determined she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts, and going to class would certainly provide the distraction she needed. She sighed.
“I suppose I am,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
“I’ve hired a new personal assistant,” her dad said in what seemed to Nadia like a complete non sequitur. He made brief eye contact with her, then looked away again, as if the admission made him uncomfortable. “His name is Robert Dante, and I’ve asked him to stand in for Sully in the afternoons.”
Sully was the servant who was usually on duty to fetch and carry for the students during the classes, because heaven forbid an Executive girl spend a couple of hours without having a servant at her beck and call. Nadia shook her head as she tried to puzzle out what was going on.
“You’re going to have your personal assistant stand around a classroom fetching for us instead of actually having him working for you?” That made no sense whatsoever. Nor did the fact that her father found it necessary to take her aside and announce his new hire.
“He’s an exceptionally bright young man. I think with some additional education, he could make something of himself. I can’t have him officially attend your classes, but I believe he can learn a great deal just by listening in.” Instead of looking at her, Nadia’s dad fidgeted with one of his cuff links.
Gerald Lake did not fidget. Nor did he usually avoid eye contact. Something about this conversation was making him uncomfortable, and Nadia was beginning to suspect she knew what it was.
What were the chances that her father would suddenly hire a new personal assistant and decide that assistant should hang around Nadia’s classes on the very day after Nadia was detained and questioned by Paxco’s chief of security in connection with the Chairman Heir’s murder? It made no sense, and while her father’s explanation sounded logical enough, his body language screamed that there was something amiss.
“I see,” Nadia said slowly. “I should go out of my way to make this bright young man feel welcome in our household. Is that what you’re saying?”
Her father finally met her eyes and held her gaze. There was a hint of relief in his expression, as if the obvious irony of her question had reassured him that she had heard the message he was trying to convey without words.
“Yes,” he said. “That’s an excellent way of putting it.”
So, Mosely had coerced Nadia into spying on Nate, and now he’d inserted someone in her own household to spy on her. Why her father wouldn’t come right out and say it, she didn’t know. Perhaps he’d been given direct orders from the Chairman and felt he was honor bound to obey them. And with only this oblique warning delivered, he could honestly say he hadn’t told her Robert Dante was here to spy on her if Mosely asked. So perhaps she understood his reluctance to speak plainly after all.