Page 4 of Break Me Beautifully
Her twin brother. Younger by a few hours, wiser than his years, but that didn't keep him out of trouble. He'd always been on the wild side, messing with the next high—drugs, women, street racing. No one could ever control him. The spiral was complete when he was arrested in a drug trafficking sting.
No amount of money or influence could keep Willbur from jail. He'd been locked away for over a year with ten more to go. It was the biggest stain on our family's name. That event left a deep mark on Katy. As twins, they were hip-to-hip. She cried for weeks after the judge ruled. To this day, she swore Willbur was innocent.
“If this guy is dangerous,” I whisper, “why does Dad want to talk to me about him?”
“Because Klintock wants to work with you.”
A cold sensation spreads through my body. “Should I be flattered or horrified?”
She hesitates, releasing me. My arms throb from her fingerprints. “Both. I mean, whatever this guy's reputation, he knows his stuff. It's a massive opportunity."
“You're right,” I say, letting myself absorb the gravity of this new information. Instead of getting upset, I'm growing excited. “Katy, this is huge. What if he helps me land my first gallery show?" My mother told me constantly to resign myself to the family business of handshakes and fake smiles, that nobody would take me seriously as an artist. I started to believe her. It was a relief she was wrong.
Katy's face is still pinched, but I'm too thrilled to care. This is the best news I've had in ... forever, if I'm honest. My life is about to change.Finally!
“Leona?” a voice echoes in the hallway outside our door. I know it's Dad. I brush past my sister, eager to hear the official words from my father himself. He's standing by the large windows. A group of men dressed in matching suits, shiny shoes and gelled hair surround him.
Except for him.
My Devil.
He’s distinct not only in dress but in his position apart from the group. A lump in the rug catches my toe and I stumble. Strong arms scoop me up before I crash into the floor. I know it'shimwithout looking. I know his scent. His warmth. My head is swarming with noise, making it hard to think, and I need to think because this situation is like turning a corner and facing a tsunami on dry land.
“Leona!” my father huffs. “I told you to wear shoes in the house, be more careful.”
I can't lift my head. I'm staring down at the Devil's oxfords, my reflection bouncing back at me in the waxed surface. He speaks into my ear. “Are you okay, can you stand?”
My body trembles as I untangle from his grip. Backing up, I face the group of men with emotionless faces, except for my father’s glare, and the Devil with his sly smirk. As I watch, he brings his hand to his cheek, like he's fixing his hair, but instead he seems to be inhaling.
He's smelling me,I realize with a warm jolt.
“Leona,” my father says, clearing his throat. “I have some big news for you.”
“I know,” I say, looking at him, trying to ignore the handsome stranger who keeps staring at me like he wants me to trip into his arms again.
“You do?” he scoffs. “How?”
Dammit, Katy wasn't supposed to tell me.Not wanting to get her in trouble, I put on my sweetest smile. “Sorry, I mean, I figured you did, why else call for me?”
He looks like he wants to scold me, but with everyone watching, he stops himself. “Apparently, your art skills have managed to reach the top-tier attention of Mr. Klintock, an art curator from New York City. He's worked with celebrities, business moguls, foreign leaders, and amazingly, he's decided to offer you a personal mentorship.”
“That's amazing!” I gush, unable to keep myself from grinning. My delight is genuine, but my dad hesitates, and I wonder why.
“Yes,” he goes on, adjusting his silver tie. “Quite. It's a big opportunity, but I assume you're able to handle the responsibility of living away from us for three months. Mr. Klintock has expressed his desire to teach you all he can in exchange for you agreeing to work your hardest under his strict guidance.”
I'm nodding and nodding, eager for all of this. “I can't wait. I promise I'll make you proud, Dad. Thank you.”
“Don't thank me. Thank Mr. Klintock.”
“Oh, of course, when can I meet him?”
The men chuckle. I think they're humoring my excitement, but when my father turns, gesturing grandly, it clicks. “You already met him,” he says.
The Devil smiles at me with a sinful glint in his eyes.
No. Wait.
Mr. Klintock offers me his long-fingered hand. “You can call me Marshall,” he says. “I look forward to working very, very hard with you, Leona.”
