Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
William reached the door only seconds before they did, and Jeremy drew up short when he saw Cat on his front porch.
“William!” Cat said, beaming at the butler. “Hey, sorry to drop by unannounced. Just trying to steal Jeremy. Is he—heyyy,” she said as she spotted Jeremy over William’s shoulder. “Come chat with us real quick.”
“Does she know what time it is?” Annalise asked as she snatched up her purse and keys.
“Bit late, but you’re all awake,” Cat said with unflagging cheer. “Gorgeous as always, Annalise. Smile just lights up the room.”
Annalise, who was decidedly not smiling, only motioned for Cat to get out of her way. Jeremy smiled apologies at William as he followed his sister onto the porch, and then Annalise rocked to an abrupt stop. Jeremy had to lurch back to avoid slamming the laundry basket into the small of her back. He thought perhaps she’d forgotten something, but Annalise was staring at Jean where he stood only a few steps back from the porch. Jeremy moved up alongside her, mouth open on a quick reassurance, but Annalise looked more startled than afraid.
Maybe it was the night that put that color in her cheeks, or maybe it was the way Jean was studying her with unabashed curiosity and no little interest. He wasn’t the first to look at Annalise like that and he wouldn’t be the last; she had a face born for stardom and had pursued modeling gigs until her accident. Jeremy knew she was beautiful, and he knew Jean liked women and men equally. He didn’t know why the laundry basket was now digging permanent creases into his fingers, but his tone was friendly and light as he introduced them.
“Jean, this is Annalise. She’s studying polisci at UCLA. Annalise, Jean Moreau, our newest backliner.”
“The Raven,” she said, toying idly with the strap of her purse. “After all of the horror stories, I expected something... less,” she finished after a moment’s pause. Jean continued to gaze back in silence, unbothered by that backhanded compliment, and Annalise sent Jeremy a sidelong look. He smiled in the face of her scrutiny, trying to radiate innocence, but Annalise only said, “I was right, wasn’t I? You really are going to make the same mistakes all over again.”
“Good night, Annie,” Jeremy said.
The look that crossed her face ruined her pretty features. “Don’t call me that.”
Jeremy jostled her laundry basket at her, and Annalise led the way to her car. She got the back door for him, and he wrapped the seatbelt around the basket to keep it from sliding around on her journey home. He held the driver’s door open until she was buckled, then stepped back to watch her pull away. Only after her car was gone did he finally rejoin Cat and Jean near the fountain. William had been sent away at some point, and the front door was closed, so Cat caught Jeremy’s hand and planted a kiss on his knuckles.
“Long way from home,” Jeremy said, looking between them.
Cat smiled and swiped sweaty bangs out of her face. “We were in the area. Rode out to Thousand Oaks and figured we might as well come back this way. Jean needed to talk to you, anyway.”
Here she sent Jean a meaningful look, but Jeremy’s front door opened before Jean could say anything. Mathilda stepped out onto the porch alone, expression frosty and arms folded tight across her chest. She would have heard from William who was at her door this late; that she’d come out here herself to shoo them off said worlds for how displeased she was by their boldness.
Cat was uncowed but hurried toward her with a gushing, “Mrs. Wilshire, sorry to stop by so late, but oh my god, your hydrangeas—?”
Jeremy glanced toward Jean, arching a brow in silent question, but Jean only looked away. Jeremy wasn’t sure how much time Cat could buy them, so he pressed, “What’s on your mind?”
“I need a ride on Saturday,” Jean finally said. “From you, not Laila.”
“Where are we going, and when?”
Jean scowled but said, “Doctor, ten-fifteen.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Jeremy promised. Jean didn’t look at all reassured, so Jeremy said, “Mom’s a doctor—an OB anesthesiologist,” he elaborated at Jean’s small frown, “so I can’t imagine she’ll refuse if I tell her we’re going to a hospital. I’ll talk to her as soon as I get inside and let you know tomorrow, okay?”
“Jeremy,” Mathilda called, so Jeremy had to leave Jean there. He passed Cat on his way to the front porch, and he obediently took up a spot at Mathilda’s side. He and his mother watched as Cat and Jean pulled their helmets back on. The quiet roar of their motorcycles coming to life had Mathilda muttering rudely under her breath.
It wasn’t the noise that had her so riled up; as soon as Mathilda knew she’d be heard she said, “You do have some white friends, I assume.”