Reprisal: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Montlake Prep Book 3)

by Nora Cobb

  I smile softly. “I appreciate it, but let’s take things one step at a time. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  Lucas smiles back. “I’m glad to see the old Natalie back.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Troy

  A month has passed, and thank God, I’m still single. It’s not that I don’t want to marry, but Arielle is a disaster. No wonder Lucas ran. I’m okay with not being in love with the woman I marry. It’s business, nothing more than that, but it would be better if I could live with the girl. Arielle is evil in high heels.

  She was okay freshman year. I was jealous of Lucas because Arielle was the prettiest girl at Montlake. Her beauty made the other girls look plain and spotty, and her sweet smile made my stomach flip. I wanted to get closer but she was taken and she was in love with Lucas, or so I thought. It changed sophomore year. Lucas was fuming because Arielle had gone out with a senior, and not just any senior, but one from a rival school. Lucas was hurt, but I was optimistic. There was a gaping hole of distrust in their tight relationship.

  The house is quiet on Sundays and dinner is served by the maid. She’s the only staff in the mansion today, and sometimes I forget that she’s even here. It’s obvious that we all do, because Mother doesn’t always check her speech around her, and Dad often has to intervene. Mother sits at the far end of the dining room table, eating her salad and some weird turmeric risotto dish, and Dad sits at the opposite end with a steak and roasted root vegetables. I always eat what Dad is having, but I pick at my plate with no interest in eating. Arielle is plotting, but Cora won’t spill.

  The dining table is long enough that we might as well sit in different rooms. Dad’s seat is practically by the archway, and he has to lean to the side to see Mother at the other end when he speaks to her. She doesn’t bother to move and speaks to the arrangement of sticks and twigs. Or she’ll look at me as if I’m their go-between. I shift in my chair as she eyes me. The wedding cakes are gone at Dad’s persistent insistence. He pointed out that there are enough unoccupied rooms in this house that she doesn’t need to tie up the ones we use with her projects. No one dares speak for fear of shifting the growing tension into a maelstrom throughout the room.

  “Do you talk to Natalie Page?” Dad asks as he plops a roast carrot into his mouth.

  I look over at him, and reply, “We’re not in any classes together.”

  Dad grimaces and starts again. “Have you been to her uncle’s house lately?”

  “No, I haven’t.” I place my fork down on the table. Mother is better at extracting information. She’d have all my passwords by now, if I could remember them all. “Why do you ask?”

  “The deal with her uncle has been modified,” he explains. “The shares that we purchased are now non-voting, giving us no say in how the company is run.”

  “Is that bad?” Mother interrupts.

  Dad leans to the side and we look at her in feigned amazement. She has to know that it’s not good or bad. Just not what we expected. She sips her merlot to hide her smirk. “You’re both looking at me as if I’m the fool. Did you expect another outcome, Greg?”

  Dad sighs and lets out a half-hearted laugh, “Maya, all it means is that Phillip Page is no fool.”

  “It’s an insult to be played like that by some upstart.”

  “You were an upstart at one time.” He tries to kid with her. “What matters is if one can fit in. And Phillip is proving that he knows how to fit in.”

  “By playing you?” she points out.

  “Maya.” Dad tosses his cloth napkin onto his plate. “We’ll still receive plenty of money from the deal, but no extras. Phillip Page is shrewd.”

  “I heard the Bellmans’ lawyer was there.” She wipes her mouth, leaving a streak of red lipstick on the napkin.

  Dad looks at me, knowing that I am the source. “Who told you that?”

  “Not him,” she replies quickly, to let me off the hook. “People talk, Greg. They like to tell me things that you neglect to mention at home.”

  Dad shrugs it off easily, “It was a little odd that the Bellmans’ lawyer was there.”

  Mother and I exchange a knowing look. Dad spends too much time on the high road, but we know when our family has been dissed. Lately, she and I don’t agree on a lot of things that concern the family, but we both agree that we don’t approve of being screwed out of things that we expected to receive. If someone like Phillip Page screws us, then the next shmuck will think he can too.

  “You did his niece a favor,” Mother frowns at the centerpiece, “and he screwed you on the deal. That should bother you, Greg.”

  “It should, but it doesn’t.” Dad leans to the right. “We will still make money on the deal and that is what I expected from the start.”

  Shaking her head, Mom looks at me. “Do you know why the Bellmans’ lawyer was present?”

  “How would Troy know, Maya?”

  The conversation stalls as the maid enters the room to remove Dad’s plate. Normally, they would have kept talking, giving her little notice. But maids share gossip among the houses. And if they hadn’t stopped, I would have told them to stop. The door between the two rooms closes quietly behind the maid, and Mother picks up as if only a second has passed.

  “Then do you know, Greg? After all, you were there.”

  Dad scoffs. “Perhaps Page is another client. There are plenty of reasons why a lawyer would be there.”

  “But you didn’t ask.” Mother’s tone is strident and her words are over-the-top formal. She’ll hold onto the formality as the tension rises to the top, but when it boils over, she reverts to something feral. I sit motionless, hoping Dad will diffuse it. If he doesn’t, I’ll end up the whipping boy again.

  “Maya, don’t put more meaning into it than there is.”

  Mother averts her cold gaze and places it back on me. “Troy, do you have a guess as to why the Bellmans’ lawyer would have been there?”

  Fuck. I don’t want to be in the middle of their argument. This has nothing to do with money, and all to do with ego. I’m already the focus of a forced marriage with Arielle. It was a mistake to let Mother know I’m dating Arielle, but Arielle likes to show off her conquests. And when she kissed me at the Thanksgiving parade in front of Mother, I don’t know who was happier: her or Arielle. Arielle is a stunning looker and hungry in bed, but I’ll always have to keep an eye on my back when I’m around her. Dad has managed to survive a marriage with a ballbreaker, but lately, he’s starting to look a little tired around the eyes and spends more time alone in his study.

  Mother stares at me again with the look that lets me know I’m fucked. I swallow hard, wiping my mouth on my napkin and tossing it onto my plate.

  “I don’t talk to Lucas much,” I finally reply.

  Mother grins, but not from happiness. I’m an easier target than Dad. And Victoria was easier than both of us. I ran interference to protect my little sister until Dad sent her away to live with Grandmother in Rhode Island.

  “Maya, leave the boy alone.”

  She ignores him, which is easy to do with that ridiculous centerpiece in the way. I want to shove it off the table and break it apart. “Troy,” she pushes, “you can’t think of any reason why the Bellmans would have sent their lawyer? Are the Bellmans that friendly with the Pages?”

  The room goes stone quiet, and Dad looks over at me, waiting for an explanation as well. That angle hadn’t occurred to him before, that two families were joining against ours. Well played, Mother. Phillip Page being shrewd is one thing, but the Bellmans manipulating our deal from behind the scenes is another. Dale Bellman has swiped a couple of good deals from Dad, and Dad isn’t going to tolerate it again.

  I know what is going on, but I don’t want to tell. Lucas, not his father, is helping Natalie. There’s no other motive than that. Being a jerk to Lucas is never going to compete with what will happen if Mother knows Lucas is responsible.

  “Troy, your mother asked you a question.”

&nbs
p; I never lie to Dad. I may avoid the truth, but when he asks a question I can’t lie. When I was little, I did once over something benign, a broken window or a lost toy. I don’t remember. But I do remember the look of disappointment when he figured out that I had lied. His approval will always mean more than Mother’s love. Sorry, Lucas.

  “Lucas is dating Natalie.” I say the words quickly, to make it hurt less. Mother presses her lips together into a thin line, but Dad laughs out loud. I stare in disbelief.

  “Well,” he says. “It seems that Phillip had help from his niece. Maybe he’s not as shrewd as I thought. If that’s the case, Natalie will have a great future ahead of her, running her uncle’s business.”

  Oh, Dad, that was the wrong thing to say in front of Mother. She will never tolerate being shown up by a teenage girl. And to add that Natalie knows how to run a business when none of us have ever tried? Unwilling, my gaze goes to Mother. Her red cheeks alert me that the phony civility is over.

  “A great future?” she hisses. “You got fucked on a deal because of a little blonde slut, and you praise her for it?”

  “Maya, get a grip, please,” Dad sighs. “She didn’t steal food out of your mouth, or Gucci from your closet.”

  Mom slams her hand on the table. The vibration sends the wine in her glass swirling.

  “Call Columbia and have them tell her no.”

  “Maya, I don’t own the school. All I did was give her a reference.”

  “Then take it back, Greg. Don’t laugh like this is okay. It is not okay to have an eighteen-year-old girl outmaneuver you.” Mother clutches the edge of the table so hard that her knuckles turn white. “Obviously, the rumors about her are true.”

  “Which ones?” Dad replies coolly, as if he doesn’t know.

  “Don’t play the fool with me, Greg. You know exactly what they’re saying about that little whore,” Mother says. “I knew it the day she pranced in here in that trashy skirt of hers.”

  “Mother,” I caution. The door opens slightly, and I give the maid a sharp look. She takes a step back, but she’s probably listening to their heated conversation from behind the door.

  “Troy, your father and I are talking.” She must have noticed too, as she tries to regain her composure. “The girl needs to be taught a sharp lesson, Greg.”

  “Like Victoria?” I mutter to the centerpiece, but they hear me.

  For a moment, mentioning my sister ends the conversation. Dad’s mood darkens, his brow creases, and he must be remembering the day when social services visited our house to make a spectacle of our life.

  But Mother is relentless and only focused on Natalie, not on Dad’s apparent pain. “If you don’t make that call, Greg, I will.”

  I can’t sit here and witness this as we all fall apart. I don’t want Dad spending another Sunday in his study.

  “Mother,” I look her in the eye. “Natalie Page did for her family what I would have done for ours if the situation had been reversed.”

  The truth stops her in her tracks, and for the first time in my life, she has nothing to say back. She knows that I’m telling her the truth about Natalie because I’ve done worse—far worse—than conspire for our family. She stares at me, and I have to admit that I didn’t expect to say it either. But it’s the truth, and lately, I’ve been noticing that Natalie has a loyalty to her own. I didn’t think she belonged in Montlake before, but I may have been wrong.

  CHAPTER 11

  Natalie

  It’s a beautiful night to celebrate our win against the Saunders. I wish I could be a cam on the wall in their home, but I settle happily for being where I am now. Uncle Phil made reservations for dinner at Per Se, an exclusive restaurant in New York City. And as a treat, I’m allowed to invite a friend, and I invite Lucas. Uncle Phil treats us and invites his new boyfriend, Ray Castañeda.

  “Your boyfriend is cute, Uncle Phil,” I whisper as Lucas and Ray hand our coats to the coat check. “I’d run five miles a day for him too.”

  “He is good-looking,” Uncle Phil whispers, “But he’s not the boyfriend yet. Surprised you didn’t bring Jacob. Are you keeping your options open?”

  I blush. “Something like that.”

  “Smart girl, I knew you had it in you.”

  Once we are seated, Uncle Phil orders a bottle of champagne, so we can toast our success. “It’s a bit cliché,” he says, “but I feel like being cliché right now.”

  “Happiness is the best cliché,” agrees Ray. The waiter opens the champagne with a pop and we’re all served a glass. Uncle Phil holds his glass aloft.

  “To success. May the ashes of our enemies taste as sweet as this champagne.”

  We laugh, and I say, “That’s very Valhalla, Uncle Phil.”

  I haven’t had a thing to drink since that debacle with Anthony but I push that moment out of my head. “I’d like to make a toast, too,” I announce, holding my glass up again. “To revenge. May the smoke of all the bridges I burn smell as sweet as this champagne.”

  That receives mock gasps, mixed with a laugh and a cheer.

  “My turn,” says Ray. “To good fortune. May I always have it, and my enemies always seek it.”

  We laugh as Uncle Phil takes a sip from his glass.

  “Your turn, Lucas.”

  His smile is radiant, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lucas look this happy before. “To love. May we always have too much of it.”

  “Nice one,” laughs Uncle Phil, and we drain our glasses. The bubbles go to my head and I wave off another glass. Lucas orders us seltzers along with our meals. I smile at him, and he winks.

  “Not quite the diner is it, Natalie?” teases Lucas.

  “I like that place.”

  “What diner?” asks Ray.

  “We live in a tony neighborhood in Jersey, but my niece has managed to find the only dive in town.”

  Ray rolls his eyes. “Jersey is famous for diners. You can’t live in Jersey and not have a favorite diner.”

  “Thank you,” I smile at Ray. “A person that gets me.”

  “I also have an iron stomach,” adds Ray.

  “Lucas,” says Uncle Phil, “how well do you think Greg Saunders will handle being outmaneuvered?”

  Lucas shrugs his shoulders. “It won’t happen a second time.”

  Uncle Phil nods and the conversation stalls as the waiter places our plates in front of us. The meal is over-the-top tasty in gorgeous, chic surroundings.

  “Everything looks amazing,” I giggle.

  “Enjoy, everyone,” Uncle Phil smiles. “We deserve this feast.”

  After dinner, Uncle Phil and Ray plan to head to a bar in the city to continue the celebration, and he hints that he may not be home until morning. Lucas offers to escort me home via Uber.

  “It’s funny being raised by a single uncle,” I sigh in the back seat.

  “How’s that?” asks Lucas.

  “My parents would never admit to having sex even though I was the living proof. Uncle Phil is like, ‘this is my boyfriend, this is my life, and sweetheart, you can find your own way home. Love you and bye-bye.’”

  Lucas laughs. “Your uncle’s cool.”

  “And I can tell he likes you.”

  “I’m approved of, you mean.

  “Of course.” I snuggle against his strong arm. “Do you think the Saunders will do anything?”

  “Not sure. Greg Saunders doesn’t waste his time on vendettas,” he frowns, “but Maya Saunders ... She’s a street fighter.”

  “What is the deal with the sister? They had a tree set up for her at Christmas, but she was nowhere in that house. Where is she?”

  Lucas’ shoulders rise then fall, and I know this is going to be bad. “There was a party at a neighbor’s house that got out of hand. Victoria was caught with a girl and Maya hit her. Vicki was shipped off to her grandmother’s.”

  “Troy’s parents are that backward?”

  “They expect their children to make alliances through marriage an
d produce heirs. After they marry, they can find love with their partner. Or elsewhere.”

  I don’t say anything else. I have heard rumors about Lucas’ own dad. I don’t really understand how a man could cheat on a woman as pretty as Taylor, but I guess that’s me being superficial. I wonder if Taylor has a lover of her own, but I will never ask. At least, I’ll never ask Lucas.

  We travel west. I start to recognize the landmarks on the highway as we pass the Newark skyline. The old skyscrapers have new corporate names in lights, and I wonder if Uncle Phil aspires to have a building with his company name on it. Maybe Montlake is the trial run. Will the new building be there in a hundred years or will it be torn down and replaced by the next newcomer who needs a favor?