Chapter Fourteen

Sunday afternoon, Abbie invites me to brunch at the Ritz Carlton, and I turn her down. I can’t afford that luxury.

“Oh, come on. I’ll pay,” she begs.

“No, you can’t do that.”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “You should see my weekly allowance.”

It probably equals more than I made working at KFC in a month.

“Pleeease,” she begs.

“You sure?”

“Yes. Besides, everybody else is gone for the day.”

So I’m her last resort. That thought pops into my brain and almost has me saying no, but in the end I decide to go, mainly because I’ve never been to a Ritz, and I’m curious. Plus, I am caught up on all of my school work.

To my surprise, brunch goes fine until Abbie says, “You know my dad funded this year’s scholarship pick, right?”

I swallow my crème brûlée as I fall back in place beneath her. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“He said it was a tax write-off,” she goes on. “Suppose that’s stuff I’ll let my accountant worry about some day.”

“I suppose.” I look around for our waiter and the check. A check I wish I could pay.

“So don’t piss me off or anything,” she jokes.

Though I’m in no way amused, my lips quiver into a smile.

“He told me I have to maintain a three-point-five or he’s not letting me holiday in Greece with my aunt.” She scoffs. “Three-point-five. Can you believe it?”

I inhale a patient breath, the reality of our differences so in my face I can barely focus. Does she not realize I can’t relate? Greece? The only place I’ve ever been outside of Tennessee is here, of course, and North Carolina. I’ve never even been on a plane. I took a bus here to the Keys. But traveling is definitely something I want to do once I graduate MIT, start a job, and actually have real money for a change.

Thankfully, the waiter comes, and Abbie flips down a credit card that I’m sure her dad pays for.

I really want to go back to the dorm, but Abbie insists on cruising the coastal highway. So with music blaring and the top down on her BMW, I close my eyes, soak in the sun, and try to forget her words from brunch. So don’t piss me off or anything.

Abbie turns the radio down. “That’s Riel’s Jeep.” She nods ahead of us and speeds up. “Let’s say hi.”

My body hums in all kinds of interesting ways as we pull up beside him, both coming to a stop at a red light. I glance over to his beat-up Wrangler. The top and doors are off, giving me a front row seat to his tan legs and muscled arms that stretch the sleeves of his gray tee. He’s wearing mirrored aviator glasses, and I watch as his dark hair rustles in the breeze.

Leaning over me, Abbie waves. “Hey, Riel.”

Riel glances over and smiles a little.

Abbie grins. “What’re you up to?”

He shrugs. “This and that. You?”

Abbie tosses her hair. “Just two girls out having fun.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

A face peeks out and around from the passenger side of the Jeep. It’s the little girl I saw him with the day he was late to economics.

“Hi,” she says.

I give a little wave. “Hi.”

“This is my sister, Mar,” he introduces.

He points at us. “You know Abbie, and that’s Viola.”

The light turns green, and Riel puts his Jeep in gear. “See you two tomorrow,” he says, and I watch as they pull away.

“Word is,” Abbie informs me, “he’s raising her by himself.”

I glance over in surprise.

“Don’t know all the details, but there it is.” She sighs. “Doesn’t that make him even hotter?”

A million questions immediately flood my mind. Where’s their mom? Is she dead? Did she leave? Where’s their dad? Why would Riel be raising Mar on his own? And how long, exactly, has he been doing so?