“How so?” My tone is skeptical, and I stand up and walk over to the window.

He taps his pen against his briefcase, a mulling expression on his face. “Miss Ryan, your father—”

“Not my father. Sperm donor.”

He nods. “Right. He left the bulk of his estate to his wife and other two children, but there’s a sizable amount for you as well. You can attend any university you want.”

Curiosity gets to me. “How much?”

“You’ll have to attend the reading with the family to find out the final amount, along with the list of mementos he bequeathed to you, items that may be pertinent to your mother.”

My teeth grind together. “How fucking much?”

He’s unfazed by my profanity but thinks for a moment. “A million dollars.”

Shock slides over me and there’s a gasp from Mara. “Asshole must have gotten soft,” she mutters as she heads to the liquor cabinet and opens it. “Drink?” Her eyes rove from him to me, but it’s me she lingers on, and I guess she’s learned to read my face well enough to know when I’m about to lose my cookies.

“Bourbon,” I say. “Two fingers—and give me the good stuff.”

Her hands shake as she puts it in my grasp. She leans down to my level and gazes up at me. “Listen to me, Sugar, you could really use that money—hell, you could pay for law school somewhere up east, maybe Yale or Harvard. Get out of this town and live the life you deserve.”

I don’t want his regret money.

All I’ve ever wanted was a real family.

Mara reads my face. “A door has opened, Sugar. Now you gotta walk through it. See what happens. Don’t let the past dictate your future.”

I turn up my glass, and the hot fiery taste of whiskey slides down my throat. “I don’t care that he’s dead. I don’t care if he’s trying to make up for what he did. Go back and tell his family that.”

With trembling hands, I set the glass back down on her desk then stalk past them and out the door.

26

Sugar

On Sunday, the girl at the desk in the lobby of Ellington Hall has an awed expression on her face as she passes over the vase of deep creamy white gardenias to me—although it’s terribly inadequate to simply call it a vase of flowers. The word decadent comes to mind as I finger one of the huge, velvety blooms with a lush yellow center. The smell is intoxicating; it’s vibrant, rich, and reminiscent of the South. I attempt to pick up the wide crystal vase but have to put down my backpack just to hold it.

I look back up at the freckled, bouncy brunette who caught me as I came in the door after class, practically waving her hands at me to tell me I had another flower delivery.

“What does the card say? Who’s it from? Honestly, I’ve never seen flowers so pretty.” She leans over the desk conspiratorially, all chatty. “I mean, the delivery dude even had a hard time wrangling his way inside. These are gardenias, right? I mean, where do you ever get those in the winter?”

I give her a slight smile as I rip open the envelope, and suddenly the shitty day brightens.

Miss Ryan,

These remind me of you.

Z

My heart lifts and soars—until I remember I haven’t heard a peep from him since I walked him out of my dorm early Friday morning. Two damn days.

“Well?” Lobby Girl is beside herself. “Is it the guy with all the tattoos on his arms, the one who comes by to see you?”

She means Bennett. I shake my head. “Not him.”

“Then who?”

I tuck the card into my crossbody. “Just a friend.”

“Some friend.” She grins.

It felt wrong to say fuck buddy, but I don’t really know what we are.

“Would you mind if I left my book bag down here, took these to my room, and then came back? I can’t carry it all.”

She nods and dashes off to answer her phone, which is lying on the welcome desk.

Vase in hand, the gardenias nearly smothering me, I turn around just as a nasally voice calls my name. I have to peek around the huge arrangement to see who it is.

Veronica. Perfect. A long sigh slips through my lips.

“Well, well, well, looks like someone got the flowers.” A small tinkling laugh comes from her and an expression of extreme satisfaction settles on her carefully made-up face. “How lucky for me that I just happened to pop into Ellington to see a friend and I get to witness…” She waves her hands in my direction. “This.”

My body stiffens. “Excuse me?”

She leans on the counter. “The flowers—they’re from Z, right?”

“And if they are?” The weight of the vase makes my arms ache but I continue to stand there.

She brushes at a piece of lint on her black pea coat before looking back at me with piercing green eyes. “He sends them to all the girls, usually when he’s done.” She pauses, her brows raised. “I mean, for a moment, I thought he was seriously blindsided by you, but guess what—nope.”

My dad died and this is the comment that nearly brings me to my knees.

Is this why I haven’t heard from him?

She sniffs. “Hope you didn’t think you were special. Lots of girls do, you know. They think they’ll be the one to change him, but I’ve known him since prep school and this is the way he operates. Z is just looking for a good time.” She curls her lip. “Don’t take it personally, being the slut of the month.”

My skin goes white. I can feel the blood leaving it. My teeth clench. “Been called worse by better, Veronica.”

“Truth hurts. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up that this little thing between you two might last.” She shrugs.

I stare at her hard. This is a cat fight, and I smile a little because my mama taught me well. I know all the right words to say to defend myself from bitchy girls who think they’re better than someone from the trailer park.

I push out a tight smile. “You’re so jealous, and it’s sad, truly. My heart actually hurts for you.” I make a pout with my mouth. “Want to know why?”

Her confidence falters, and I can tell she doesn’t want to ask, but she can’t help it.

“Why?”

I smile. “He’s never going to pick you. If he were, he already would have.” I keep a little Southern in my voice when I say, “And, bless your heart, I would tell you to go fuck yourself right now for being a little bitch, but I don’t think you’d even enjoy it.”

It’s a great exit line, and I’m mentally high-fiving myself when she grabs my elbow, nearly causing the flowers to topple.

Her eyes flare, and if she were a dragon, I’d be seeing smoke. “You’re so beneath him, and the only reason he’s with you is you look like—”

“Is your drama going to have an intermission soon?” says a taut female voice, and I turn to see Julia standing there, arms crossed, face tired. “Because my friend and I have better things to do than talk to a backstabbing bag of shit like you.”

They know each other. It’s obvious from the twin set of daggers in each of their eyes. Julia is all up in the hockey stuff.

“Don’t you have some puppies to murder, Veronica? Run along now. No one wants you here,” Julia says.

Veronica, at first taken back by the sight of her, recovers as she leans in and turns to me. “He’s moved on, sweetheart. Face it.”

My heart flops. He’s moved on.

She tosses her hair over her shoulder and stomps out of the lobby.

Julia gives me a wry smile. “Ignore her. By the way, I’m a stripper. I almost told you the other night, but it wasn’t the right time.”

“I noticed you’ve been avoiding me. Oh, and I nearly saw your boobs, which might be okay since we’re roomies, but not while you’re shaking them for the suits.”

She sighs, grabbing my backpack from Lobby Girl, who came around the desk with it at some point, probably to see all the action. “She tried to fire me, by the way, but I talked her out of it.”

I study the determined set of Julia’s face. I get the feeling she doesn’t take no for an answer often.

I push Veronica and Z out of my head and focus on her. “Julia, are you sure working there is good for you? Some girls just fit right in and they love it, but the other night you were upset about something…”

She waves me off and looks down at the monstrous vase of flowers. “You going to get those?”

My heart sinks a little as I study the lush petals. My eyes scan around the lobby. “I’m going to chuck them in the trash.”

Lobby Girl nearly faints. “God, no, please. That would be a crime. I’ll take them if you don’t want them. They’re the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen.”

Julia arches a brow. “They’ll brighten up our dungeon of a room.”

Fine. I give Lobby Girl a smile since she looks so relieved. I glance at Julia. “Maybe they’ll mask the dank smell that comes up from the radiator.”

She pauses as we make our way to the stairwell that leads to our room. “I heard some of the things she was saying to you about Zack…” Her voice trails off.