Leo Rising (Zodiac Guardians #3) - Tamar Sloan Page 0,4

it was a good idea to ask you. That sounds delicious, and Frank will love it!”

Brielle follows Bea into the kitchen and together they work on the food. Brielle prepares the egg mixture while Bea cleans the pork chops and pours bread crumbs into a wide-brimmed bowl for dipping and covering.

The two of them make a game out of cooking, laughing when the overly hot oil pops at both of them, and when they’d gotten distracted by conversation and fried one chop a little too long. This is why Brielle loves cooking so much. It’s a completely liberating activity. It takes her mind off anything troubling her and gives her a tasty reward at the end. Even better if she gets to do it with someone she loves, and she does love Bea. It may not be the instinctive and powerful love a child has for its mother, not yet, but she does adore everything about Bea as a person, and she’s sure her feelings will only grow in time.

“Oh, Frank called earlier and said the merger proposal has been accepted,” Bea says excitedly before placing a chop in the sizzling pan and springing her hand away from the popping oil. “All that’s left to do is sign the contract.”

And just like that, Brielle is brought right back down to Earth.

Brielle nods but says nothing, hoping her faltering smile goes unnoticed.

It doesn’t.

“What’s wrong?” Bea asks, her warm cocoa eyes falling on Brielle.

Brielle shrugs. “I just hope he reads the fine print, that’s all.”

Bea frowns, leaning against the counter. “You were acting strange at dinner with the Sinclairs the other night, and you hinted that you’d talk to me about it later but you never did.” She raises her dark brows in a look that says now is the time to do so.

Brielle sucks in her bottom lip, unsure of just what to confide or even where to start.

“It’s that girl, isn’t it?” Bea asks, crossing her arms. “You know her from school?”

Brielle nods, then sighs. “We used to be best friends. She was at Grace Orphanage, too, when we were little. But after the Sinclairs adopted her, she changed. She’s the epitome of a mean girl. Mirror Point’s very own Regina George.”

Bea shakes her head. “I thought I smelled a rotten egg through all that perfume. It’s her eyes that give it away. When she smiles, her eyes don’t.”

Relief deflates Brielle’s chest in a long breath. At least someone sees Cassandra’s true colors, and Brielle’s so glad it’s Bea.

“And you’re afraid that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?” Bea asks, leaning her head forward in a discerning gesture.

“I just don’t trust Mr. Sinclair,” Brielle finally feels free enough to say, even if she can’t confide her reasons.

“Well…” Bea puts her hands in the front pocket of her apron. “Frank is a very smart man, one not easily fooled. Have a little faith in him. If there’s anything unscrupulous about Mr. Sinclair’s dealings, he’ll figure it out—Oh! Not again!”

She quickly grabs the tongs and pulls the dark brown chop out of the oil.

“We’ll just have to make the gravy extra creamy,” Brielle says, and they both giggle.

They continue to make the gravy and sauteed vegetables, and Brielle feels lighter. It’s nice to know she can talk to Bea about sensitive topics. She’s never had that before, and it feels so good.

Maybe she’s wrong about Mr. Sinclair. Maybe he’s not the villain of this story, and maybe Cassandra has had a perfectly nice childhood.

All Brielle can do is hope that this business deal isn’t as nefarious as she fears.

4

Cassandra

“Wow, top of your class? That’s great!”

Cassandra almost squirms under her Uncle George’s praise as she sits across from him at dinner. She smiles, and part of her, some deep part, soaks up his affection like a sponge. But her overall reaction is discomfort, and disbelief. Is he really proud of her accomplishments, or is he just putting on a show? The same way that her father did when he heard of Julia being accepted into the Honor Society at her elementary school or making a field goal in soccer.

“Your dad told me that you just took the SATs,” Uncle George continues. “How do you think you did?”

Cassandra shrugs, prodding her roast beef with her fork. “The scores are supposed to come in any day now.”

“I’m sure you’ll get an A!” Julia shouts, admiration sparkling in her hazel eyes.

Cassandra giggles.

“The SATs isn’t that kind of test,” Cassandra’s father corrects, his voice devoid