Mrs. Riscoff looks like she’s about to have a fit. Her cheeks are turning red, and I’m terrified she’s going to drop dead right here in the spa, and then I’ll be the Black Widow and the Mother Killer.

“I’m almost done, Mrs. Riscoff. I’m sure there will be no reason for me to return after today.”

“Oh no, by all means,” McKinley says. “You’re very welcome here. In fact, I came down to welcome you personally. It’s not every day we have someone so—”

“Infamous. That’s what she is. If nothing else, she’ll be terrible for publicity after she drove her husband to kill himself.” Mrs. Riscoff spits out the accusations that are no worse than anything I’ve heard before, but they sting more coming from her. She turns to McKinley. “If that’s how you’re going to run this resort, I’m sure your grandfather would be happy to take it back and give it to Harrison. He’s the one who should’ve had it to begin with.”

McKinley smiles sweetly, but I sense that the girl has her own well-honed suit of armor when it comes to dealing with her mother. “I apologize for my mother’s behavior. You’re welcome anytime. All you have to do is call, and we’ll make sure we can find room for you on the schedule.” She turns to Mrs. Riscoff. “Mother, if you’d come with me, there’s another matter we need to discuss.”

She leads Mrs. Riscoff away, and both Gabi and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Good Lord. She’s a dragon. You dodged a bullet not ending up with her for a mother-in-law. Can you imagine?”

I shiver at the thought. That’s something that Mrs. Riscoff never would have let happen.

My train of thought is derailed when we hear McKinley scream from the hallway.

“Someone call 911!”

Twenty-One

Whitney

The past

“Meet me in the hallway on the third floor in twenty minutes.”

I knew I shouldn’t be in this house. I couldn’t stop looking over my shoulder, even though I had a perfectly good reason to be here.

The Riscoffs’ housekeeper brought in reinforcements to scrub the entire estate top to bottom before some big party they were hosting tomorrow night, and through some insane turn of events, Aunt Jackie got the offer and snapped up the chance because the pay was so good.

Lincoln had seen me washing floor-to-ceiling windows in the parlor an hour after we got here, and whispered those words in my ear with one of the other household staff only a half a room away working on the chandelier.

Words that I should ignore if I know what’s good for me.

It had been two months of clandestine meetings, and every single time, I told myself it was the last time.

I’m a big, fat liar.

I couldn’t quit him. I wanted to. I needed to. But I couldn’t.

I looked around and saw that the woman in the black-and-white maid’s uniform, which thankfully we didn’t have to wear, was fixated on cleaning each individual piece of crystal before replacing it.