Peasants and Kings - Emma Slate Page 0,8

moment and then said softly, “You need to talk to Genevieve.”

“Who’s Genevieve?”

“My boss. She can get you a job at The Rex and a new identity.”

“You work the Concierge desk, Tiff. How in the world can your boss get me a new identity?”

“I need you to trust me, Sterling.” Her eyes glowed like flames.

“Of course, I trust you,” I said automatically. “I came here, didn’t I? I told you everything.”

She smiled slightly. “You wouldn’t have told me anything if you didn’t need my help.”

“Probably not,” I admitted. “I wish I didn’t have to come to you. I wish I could have left you out of it and protected you. I don’t want you to run into any trouble because of my—”

“Hey, take a breath,” she said softly. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with this alone, Sterling. I’m happy you came to me.”

“I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me.”

She came around the corner of the counter to embrace me, and for a moment, I let her. It had been so long since I’d felt the comfort of another person’s touch.

“Thank you,” I said again.

She pulled back and rested her hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry for your loss, Sterling. But I want you to know that I admire you.”

“Admire me? Why?”

“Because I don’t know anyone who would’ve been able to do what you’ve done. You’ve got a lot of courage and determination.”

I stared into her eyes.

“I’m tired, Tiff.”

“I know.”

She took my empty plate and brought it to the sink to rinse it off. “When you talk to Genevieve, don’t lie to her. She’s going to push and prod for information. She’s going to want to know why you need a new identity and why you want a job at The Rex. You can’t hide it from her.”

“That goes against everything my mother’s letter said—and against all my natural instincts.”

“I told you, you’re going to have to trust me. You can trust Gen, too. You have to trust Gen.”

I paused for a moment. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Not really. Not unless you want to take your chances and run again. I’ll give you cash if that’s what you need, but I don’t have the connections to get you a new identity unless you speak with Gen.”

“I can’t take your money,” I said. “As generous as the offer is, I’d never be able to pay it back and I couldn’t live with that.”

“Then we’re back to you trusting Gen.”

“Do I have to tell her everything? Can I leave out The White Company? Can I just tell her about the Foscari?”

“I think that might be okay.” She stared at me as she bit her lip. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” I hastened to assure her. “We have a plan of attack now, right? I’ll talk to Gen and state my case. I’ll do whatever job I have to do to get a new identity and disappear.”

“I didn’t mean about your meeting with Gen. I meant I’m worried about you. Emotionally.”

“Ah.”

“You should fall apart. Cry, scream, throw shit. You’ve been holding it together since you got here.”

“I have to hold it together because I’m afraid that if I fall apart, I’ll never be able to piece myself back together.”

“Have you really grieved for your mom?”

“Yes,” I said, ducking my head so she wouldn’t see my eyes.

“I know you. You haven’t really grieved. You haven’t had the time this last year. Not if you’ve been worried about the Foscari coming for you. You’ve been in survival mode. You’ve mashed it all down.”

“I’ve grieved,” I insisted. “Alone and in private.”

She peered at me. “Alone to process everything you’ve learned about who you are and your mother’s history?” She shook her head. “I’m afraid that if you don’t deal with this, deal with your past, your mother’s death, the truth of it all, you’ll think you’ve got it handled and it will all come at you when you least expect it.”

“There’s nothing more to deal with,” I insisted. “I haven’t cried for her in over a year. It’s done. I don’t want to look back. I want to look forward.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re kind of like…”

“Like what?”

“A feral pet.”

“What?”

“You’ve always been prickly and hard to comfort. You don’t let anyone into your world. I get it. I understand why, but it seems even more so now than ever before.” She paused. “I talk about things. I let it all hang out

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