“He’s here, Maggie…yes…If you can set him up please. Next to Abigail, all right?”

  It’s a mostly one-sided conversation we both listen in on, and when Elena ends the call, she pushes back from her desk with a commanding roll, then presses her palms on the glass top as she stands and looks down at the boy who she’s supposed to love. It’s never felt like love with her and him, though. Pride, sure. She’s constantly proud—like the way the Westminster dog owners are proud.

  “Maggie’s setting up your office. You’ll be working with the community outreach team, and learning about our brand.” Elena unfolds the black-rimmed glasses from her desk and slips them along the bridge of her nose, leaving them low enough to allow her to peer over the tops at Henry and me.

  “Sounds great,” Henry says, the words drenched in sarcasm and contempt. He skips to his feet and settles his gaze on me as he moves toward the door. There’s a mixture of despair and resentment in the way they droop, and the soft but straight line that marks his lips is far from happy.

  I get up from the soap table and double my pace to catch up to him. I’m not sure why I do it—maybe I feel guilty for dragging him into this—but I reach for Henry’s hand. My knuckles graze along his and the slight tickle startles him when we reach the door. His head pivots to me in a flash, and his eyes question me.

  Was that an accident?

  My mouth pulls into a tight smile, my lips folding into each other and nearly disappearing. All I wanted was a calm place to escape to over the summer—a room with a piano and a household free of grudges and punishment. I sold Henry out for my own pleasure, and now that it’s done, I feel sick.

  “Lily,” she calls out my name as if I’m her student. I guess I am. I became her student the moment I let myself think she was better than me.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, feeling the slight squeeze of Henry’s grip on my hand. My puckered mouth itches to break into a full grin. I know Elena doesn’t like ma’am. I was being snarky. I did it for Henry.

  As I turn to face her, she lifts her chin and drops a letter she was reading back into the pile of documents on her desk. She blinks as her eyes switch from looking at me below the frames of her glasses to the space above, and she pushes the rims down just a little more to really turn her nose down and judge me.

  “When you get back to the house, please have Alice call to arrange for the cleaning service to come in, and oh…let her know I would like to keep the house at seventy-four. And I’d love to see the progress you’re making on your technique. You know, I’m good friends with the pianist with the philharmonic. I’m sure I could arrange a meet and greet. Henry could take you.” Her eyes flit down to our hands as she pauses, and I swear there’s a twitch in her lips—amusement.

  “Wouldn’t you, Henry?” She baits him. Her stare crawls back up to Henry this time, and there’s a little warning to her voice. I wonder how many times she froze Henry in the winter just to teach him a lesson. And I wonder if she’s ever baked him in the summer.

  “Of course, ma’am,” Henry says, following my lead. Elena’s eyes twitch, but she moves on from us in a breath, waving us out the door as she returns to the letter she was reading a moment before.

  Henry and I follow a slender woman wearing a deep-purple pencil skirt and matching jacket down the corridor to a huge office in the exact opposite corner from Elena’s. We’ve passed dozens of men and women in their thirties, forties, fifties—all stuffed into cubicles that lack any personalization. I saw maybe one photo of a baby, other than that, everyone’s desk was bare of anything other than the business at hand. They must want to actively hate Henry. Fifteen and blessed with the office with a view for the summer.

  “Thanks, Maggie,” Henry says to the pencil skirt as she holds the heavy door open with her arm. I follow him inside and let go of his hand as he moves toward the window.

  “Miss, Lily?” I turn my attention back to Maggie and make a questioning expression. “Elena said you can take the train back to the house. She said you know the way.”

  I’m so stunned that I don’t react, and by the time I’m able to form the right words—excuse me? —Maggie has left the room, nothing but a sway of purple hips several cubes away.

  “I’m so sorry I made you do this,” I say, turning back to Henry. He’s closed the distance while my back was to him, and without warning, his arms curl around me in a desperate embrace, his chin curved low into my shoulder and his nose soft against my neck. He’s at least forty pounds bigger and several inches taller and wider, and by all accounts his body swallows mine whole. But right now, this one small moment, I hold him up. He clings to me, his breath heavy in an attempt not to cry, and our bodies sway while his hands clutch at my hair that spills down my back. He grips as if the strands are ropes, and he trembles desperately, holding me tight like this for a solid minute.

  Henry…he missed me.

  When he pulls away, it’s sudden, as if morphine just kicked in to sooth him. He turns his back to me while he wipes away any proof of emotion, and he moves over to the window that overlooks LaSalle Street and the nearby Chicago skyscrapers.

  “I’ll have another car come. I’ll put it on my phone, so just wait out front. You don’t need to take the train. Elena was just being a bitch.” His harsh choice of words surprises me. He’s never gone that far.

  “I really don’t mind,” I say.

  “Lily,” he says my name, and the way he says it is nothing like how Elena did.

  His eyes hit mine as he looks over his shoulder. He’s not dressed for business today, and I bet he was looking forward to taking a break from the uniform he seems to live in. He does look nice in a pressed shirt, though. He’s handsome, and I can’t deny that I look forward to seeing him leave or arrive back home.

  I hold up my hand, relenting.

  “Okay, I’ll accept your car.” I jokingly roll my eyes, and Henry chuckles softly, looking off to the side, his profile contrasting against the bright window behind him. A young prince standing in his future empire, Henry sometimes shows these glimpses of the man he’ll be one day. He’ll be powerful and a leader. He’ll be loved and adored. I only hope he’ll be kind.

  I back through the door, feeling the weight of the dense glass against my arm as it practically pushes me out. So perfect for one of Elena’s designs.

  “Hey…Lily?” Henry catches me before the glass panel closes completely. I turn back slightly with a tilt of my chin.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Maybe when I get back today…”

  I twist a bit more to see what has him lost for words. His eyes are on the wall beside me one second, and with a blink he’s looking right into me.

  “I’d love to watch you play. That’s what I wanted to say. And…just me. You can play again for Elena, but I don’t want to share what I hear with her. I know it’s probably childish, but…”

  “I’d love to,” I say, shutting him up. His mouth rests in a smile that looks genuinely happy; it’s the first one I’ve seen on him in ages. “I know just the song.”

  CHAPTER 10

  I’ve only worn this dress once—at Thanksgiving. I kinda wish I hadn’t soiled it with bad memories now, because tonight promises to be a good one. At least, I hope it turns out that way.

  Every day for the first half of this summer, Elena has sent Henry to the office to learn while she’s stayed behind to tutor me for the first few hours of the morning. I dreaded it at first, and I know Henry did, too. He still does, but I’ve gotten so much better, and he’s seen me grow. Every afternoon, he slips into the music room and listens to me play. Sometimes he sits next to me on the bench, always still and never flirting or touching me, but there—to listen. He applauds me sometimes, and it actually feels genuine. I’m nowhere near the level of the pianist we’re going to see tonight at the philharmonic, but I’m good enough to teach someone else one day. I’m good enough to maybe help with a music program, perhaps take it over down the road. I’ve never had goals or dreams or whatever, but since I’ve started to learn music, a future has sort of opened up.

  Henry and I have settled into an easy friendship. There are still times when I catch myself daydreaming, but there’s no harm in that. It’s human, and there’s something magnetic about him that makes it hard to be helped.

  He’ll be here soon. I offered to just stay at his home and wait for him to return from the office, but he insisted on picking me up with Elena’s driver. I’m not sure he realizes the route he’s gotten their driver Phillip into, though. It’s a half-hour by train, and there really isn’t a freeway that’s convenient for more than a few miles of the trip.

  “You can borrow my shoes…if you want.” Alice is leaning in the bathroom doorway and watching me attempt to brush color on my cheeks in the mirror. I straightened my hair for an hour, and it feels like silk ribbons down my back. I pause with the blush in my hand and meet her gaze in the mirror, a pair of short-heeled sling-backs in her hand.

  “Thank you, but I’m going to wear my Converse,” I say, remembering the mannequin I saw wearing this dress in the first place. Alice scrunches her face and rolls her eyes as she backs out of the doorway.

  “Whatever,” she says.

  I glance at her figure as she leaves, and breathe out, letting my hands fall limp to the counter. She was trying to be nice. For a few seconds, I consider calling after her, but I really don’t want to wear the shoes. I could ask her to help me with my makeup, but I kinda want to do this on my own. Eventually, I decide that one small gesture in a hallway bathroom isn’t going to build a real relationship between me and my current mother figure. I’ve gotten on this far, and in three years, I’ll be out of this house entirely and away for college. No summers at home—studies and work, straight through.

  I can’t wait for my sophomore year at Satis. Living there with Nicki and Anya, with Ava and hundreds of other people my age—it feels a thousand times more at home than this place ever has. I’m more at home at Elena’s, in fact, and that place is a tomb.

  My phone buzzes on the counter with a message from Henry telling me they’re almost here, and instantly, every choice I’ve made about what to wear and how to look tonight is wrong. The striped pink slashes on my cheeks are more warrior than couture, the faint lipstick more little-girl than woman. I shut the blush and toss it along with the brush into the drawer I keep my hair ties and makeup in, and I turn the hot water on full blast.

  Frantically searching around the tiny bathroom space, I pull the hand towel from its hook and drench it under the steaming water. I unfurl the towel to cool it first then press it against the right side of my face, smearing away any proof that I tried to look grown-up at all. My skin is pink from the heat, but after a few swipes, the makeup is gone. I do the same thing on the other side, until my face is clean.

  I toss the wet towel into the tub and begin waving my hands in front of my face in a desperate attempt to cool my inflamed skin. As bad as this looks, it’s better than the makeup. I keep telling myself that as I wander from the bathroom to my room, hands waving the entire time and lips contorted to blow upward at myself.

  “Lily!” Alice gives me warning that my ride has arrived. I asked him not to come to the door so I hope he’s waiting in the car with Phillip, just like he promised.

  “Coming!” I shout back, stuffing my foot into the only shoe I’m able to find while I tuck my head between my knees and pull up my dress so I can search under my bed. If my face wasn’t red from my self-torture, it’s red from standing on it now.

  I spot my shoe a little more than an arm’s length away, so I rest the top of my head completely on the floor, my smooth hair tangling around me while my balance threatens to send me ass over neck.

  “Are you hyperventilating or is there something I can help you with?”

  “Oh!” I give in to the tuck-and-roll and grasp at my dress while I summersault into the middle of my bedroom floor, mortified by the act and the fact that Alice let Henry inside.

  Hair wild and shading my face, I blow at it to create a hole to see through. Henry kneels in front of me, but with my blind spots, the only thing I can see are his black pants, argyle socks, and shiny, wingtip shoes. I bet he looks nice. This part of him…the right leg I think? It looks nice.

  “I was being lazy, and my other shoe is too far to reach.” I blow my hair again, revealing his crooked smile. He bounces with a quiet laugh then reaches forward to sweep aside more of my hair.

  “Always going about things the hard way,” he smirks. I’m not sure what that means, but I agree with it and scoot out of the way while he crawls on all fours and lowers himself with his forearms to army-crawl a foot or so under my bed to retrieve my shoe. He sits back on his haunches and holds my shoe out for me like a prince.

  Always turning me into Cinderella. I’m the cinder girl, though. I don’t think the magic really ever took.

  “Thanks,” I mutter out of the side of my mouth.

  I start to stand, but Henry takes my hand and helps me the rest of the way. Straightening the skirting of my dress, I lean over just enough to slip my shoe on my other foot. Henry steadies me with his palm, and when it flattens on my bare back, I arch up quickly, surprised by the touch. I forgot that this dress was open back there.

  “Thank you,” I say, only taking direct glances at him in bits. I’m not even sure what my face looks like anymore, but his is beautiful. If a boy can be described as beautiful.

  “No problem,” he says, holding his palm out open for me to take. As many times as we’ve done this now, it still tangles my nerves every single time.

  I rest my hand in his, and his fingers fold around me, warm but calm. His hand is never sweaty like mine is. I pray for anxieties to get in line as he walks me out of my room and toward the front door where Alice and Collin are waiting.

  “Just one picture?” Collin holds up a small camera I’ve seen him capture hundreds of things on and never once load onto a computer.

  “Why not,” I shrug, knowing this image will forever be lost on some disk along with the shots he took of the golf-ball-sized hail last month and the strange cat he thought was a racoon that lived in the neighbor’s trash over the holiday break.

  Henry positions himself next to me, letting go of my hand so he can move his arm behind my back. I’m ready for his touch this time, and when his fingers graze the dimple of my shoulder blade, it sends a rush of fairy dust up my chest.

  “Hold on,” Alice says, stepping between us and the camera. Her eyes trace the form of my face and she runs her fingers through my hair like a comb, fixing the disheveled mess I made. As she steps back, her mouth falls into a soft smile, and for a tiny moment, I can tell that she adores me—at least right this minute.

  “Okay, ready?” Collin holds the camera up in front of his face, steadying it and framing us between the hallway and the TV, blaring with some court show in the living room. “One…two…three!”

  Alice claps as if Henry and I are children getting Easter photos taken at the mall, and it makes both of us laugh. The most natural thing happens next—Henry’s hand skims along my back and he bends his arm next to me as I loop my arm through. The nerves are still there; they always are. But the movement is natural, almost habit. Henry Alderman is my gentleman.

  I breathe in the smell of his cologne as we leave my house. I remember to gather up the layers of my dress as I take the few steps down the porch. Phillip has the car door open and waiting, and I let go of my escort and slow down as we near. It’s the first time I look at Henry completely, and my imagination seems to have filled in all of the blank spaces correctly. The white shirt is offset with a deep gray vest, and his sleeves are rolled up a quarter, tight around his forearms. Hair—that I’ve only seen combed to perfection for his mother’s company or blown haphazardly from crew practice or walks along the lake—is now somewhere in-between. It’s touchably soft, but tousled in a way that clearly took effort and is meant to entice every girl that looks at it. I don’t envy anyone who sits behind us this evening.

  I tear my eyes from staring and dip my head to slide into the car, flinching the moment an unfamiliar but equally pleasant scent hits my senses. I’m not sure whether I hear him or see him first; perhaps it happens at the same time.

  Eyes like ice are even bluer in person, and his dark hair is cut short on the sides, combed back into a slick line down the center.

  “I’m Caleb,” he says, hand outstretched to help me the rest of the way in the car. I hesitate to take it with Henry behind me, but I do. I know exactly who he is, though I haven’t thought about him much since the day we made eye contact at their practice.

  “Lily,” I manage to answer. His lips curl and his eyes squint as he leans into me, his warm shoulder against my chilled bare one.

  “I know who you are.” He winks. I nod and smile, then busy myself with the small clutch that holds my phone and the emergency cash Collin gave me. Henry slides in next to me, the three of us squished into one side of the car. I’m almost tempted to bail to the other side, but now I’m not so sure if we’re picking up more people. All I can do is blink at my own hands and snap and unsnap the magnet closure on my small purse.

  “Do you two know each other?” Henry asks.

  “Uh,” I mumble, not sure how to answer that.

  “We just had our formal introductions,” Caleb says.

  I smile toward my lap and nod.

  “You’re on crew together, yeah?” I glance to my right first, then quickly to my left, mentally convincing myself that I need to keep the attention equal.

  “Right…yeah. I wasn’t sure if you’d ever talked or anything. Caleb’s in the music track, too…” His eyes glance to his friend as he leans forward, so I follow his lead and turn my focus to Caleb.

  “Really. What do you play?” I know it isn’t piano because I would have seen him. The number of students in our area isn’t large, so really, it’s strange I haven’t seen him at all other than in a boat.