Page 74 of Tears of Ink

“Really?” My reply is tarter than I intended.

“I’m sorry, something’s come up.”

“Sure.” Something’s always coming up. This is what he does. One minute he’s here, the next he’s gone. He’s done it the entire time I’ve known him. “Want to share? Can I do anything?”

I already know his answer before he says it. “Not now.” He leans down and lifts my face, placing a tender kiss on my lips. “I know you think this is my get out, but it’s not. And if you promise to not hold a grudge all day, I’ll explain later.”

I greedily eat up his kiss despite myself. “Don’t worry, you don’t owe me anything.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t do that. Don’t make everything about you, some pity parade. I’ll be back, and I promise to talk.”

“Seriously. I said don’t worry, I hate talking anyway.”

“Then I’ll think of something else to do, but right now I need to go.” He’s still hesitating, so I make it easier for him by lying down and turning my back. I think he’s gone; the door opens and a sliver of dawn slides across the room. But then his lips are on my cheek. “Thank you for last night, Sunshine.”

Then he’s gone.

And I don’t know why he calls me “Sunshine”, because in truth it’s always been the furthest thing to what I am.

I sleep for a couple more hours and then make my way down to breakfast. It’s a full house and I groan inwardly. That last glass of wine and lack of sleep are giving me a headache I could happily live without. I grumble a hello and slouch my way to any empty chair as far away from the perfect shiny white bob of the Wicked Witch of the West. Jennings is hovering with a pot of coffee and the moment I’m in my seat he pours me a cup and bends low to speak into my ear. “I believe you like it strong.”

“Hmph.” Is my exceptionally mature reply.

He turns and goes, but is back before I’ve even taken a sip, sliding a plate of crispy bacon towards me. “Master Elijah said you’d need breakfast before the arrivals came.”

I go to push the plate away, a sour taste turning my lips down at the edges, but I am bloody hungry.

I can’t even ask Jennings how Elijah managed to tell him I’d need breakfast when he left at four in the morning, but he fills in the blanks for me. “Sir called from his office and explained you’d be running today by yourself.”

The Wicked Witch of the West tuts. “I knew this would happen. We will have hapless youngsters trapping all over the Persian rugs and Elijah won’t be here to take responsibility for them.”

I glare at her as I chew a piece of bacon and swallow. “I have responsibility for them. That’s my job, what I was hired for.”

She gives a dainty snort. What is her problem with me? I’ve never said more than a few words to her, but she literally hates me on sight.

Jennifer cuts in and pulls my pointed glare away from her mother. “Faith, do you think once the afternoon session is completed we can talk about the summer ball? We need to discuss the ballroom and how you plan to display the art you are going to be producing over the next few weeks.”

I stare at her blankly because I don’t have a clue what she’s talking about. “I’m sorry, summer ball?”

“Yes, The Bowsley Ball. It is held every year in the second week of August, and this year we will be showcasing your project. Elijah hopes it will bring in backing for future events.”

“Oh, okay.” This is all news, but I can sense the shrewd gaze of the wicked witch on me and I refuse to be flustered. “Any particular theme? I could use it to guide the work I do with the kids.” I shrug. It sounds vaguely professional and like I might stand a chance of knowing what I’m talking about.

“Theme is your choice, but I will need to get invites sent out by next Monday if you could confirm by the weekend?”

“Sure. And this is held after the end of the project, so I don’t have to attend?” I nod encouragingly.

“Of course you will attend.” Jennifer frowns in confusion. “Elijah wants all the students here, and their families.” There’s a loud tut from the other side of the table. “The press will love it.” Ah, and here we have the real reason why Jennifer is so onboard.

It’s not easy to force a smile in her direction as I nod my agreement.

“And Saskia will be able to help you with your dress. The estate will cover the cost of your outfit for the event, it would be only fair.”

Oh my god. That’s it.

“I can assure you I’m more than happy to purchase my own dress.”

Jennifer waves her hand at me as if the conversation isn’t worth continuing with, but the wicked witch pipes in with, “It’s okay, Saskia is highly skilled. She will find something to cover those tattoos.”