Nothing to Hide - Isabel Sharpe Page 0,2
spot and all, I thought the break would be nice, too.”
“I don’t know...”
Julie drew her finger across her neck. Cut!
“Yeah, so, anyway.” Erik cleared his throat. “It won’t be just me there.”
Allie narrowed her eyes. “Now you’re telling me this?”
“Yeah. Yeah.”
She waited. Nothing. “So...who else will be there?”
Julie frowned skeptically.
“My brother, Jonas. And his girlfriend.”
Hmm. Allie narrowed her eyes, ignoring the jump in her pulse at the mention of his brother, the hottest man in the Northeast if not the universe. “Are you making this up?”
“No, I’m not making this up. What makes you think I’m making this up?”
“The way you never hesitate to make things up.”
“I’ll prove it to you. I’ll have Jonas email you saying he’s going. That okay?”
“I’m not even sure I’m going.”
“How could you not go? A whole attic full of clothes, Allie, yours for the taking. Gowns and hats and shoes and I don’t know, they probably even kept underwear. How can you pass this up?”
She didn’t think she could. Not only would the break do her good, but somewhere in this treasure trove of history, there might be the seeds of a new business or career. All her life she’d been obsessed with clothes of the past, watched old movies obsessively, worshipped Edith Head, who’d costumed the greatest stars from the golden age of cinema—the 1920s to the 1960s. When Allie was a little girl, she’d designed outfits for her dolls on her mom’s old sewing machine, and started designing her own clothes in high school.
Reality hit her when she graduated from college. She needed a stable, well-paying career, because unlike Erik, she couldn’t count on her family for support or inheritance. Three of her five brothers had gone to community colleges to learn trades, but Allie had wanted more from the minute she was old enough to understand the difference between the haves and have-nots. Which, not coincidentally, was when her father had met La Richesse Bitchesse and left them to live on the Upper East Side. He’d moved into a fabulous full-floor condo with his new wife and her two snotty kids, while his real family had moved to Kensington in Brooklyn. All seven of them had crammed into a three-bedroom apartment located in a borderline neighborhood at best. Mom had started drinking in earnest then.
A few times a year they visited their father in his luxury digs, and were sneered at by his new children and ignored by his wife, Betsy. Allie had vowed that someday she’d live well enough to get back at him for what he’d done to them. And that she’d never make the same mistake her mother had, and depend on a man for her livelihood. Nor would she make the same mistake her father had, and go crawling after money she hadn’t earned.
“I’ll pick you up on Friday after work.”
“Erik...”
“Jonas will be emailing you as soon as I can get in touch with him.”
“Erik.”
Julie threw up her hands.
“We’ll have fun. More than fun. We’ll have a blast. And you’ll come back with a truckload of the most fabulous clothes you’ve ever seen.”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Except she sort of had.
“C’mon, say you’ll go.” Mr. Account Executive, trying to close the sale.
“Give me an hour to think about it.”
“Allie, Allie, you want to go, you know you want to go. You can keep up with job openings online, you have your cell in case anyone calls, you’re mere hours away if you need to get back. You won’t miss anything. Unless you stay here.”
He was right. Her panic stemmed from feeling as if she could control her life better from here, where the solutions lay. But really, she could stay on top of the job hunt up in paradise, too. If any of the résumés she’d sent out caught someone’s eye, Allie could rush home in a blink.
In the meantime, there were those clothes. And that lake. And the elegant house. Julie’s life. Her father’s life. Maybe hers someday. Lives that fascinated as much as they repelled her. Just for a week. Or two. Then back to reality and more important things.
“You absolutely promise your brother will be there with his girlfriend, and that this is not some elaborate seduction ploy?”
“I absolutely promise.” He spoke firmly, without hesitation.
Allie turned away from Julie’s warning look. “Okay, Erik. I’ll go.”
* * *
JONAS SAT IN the conference room at Boston Consulting, tapping his capped pen on his thigh. Same old meeting, same old client, same old problems. Same old management