Replica rt-1 Page 7

  Call him crazy, but Nate had the feeling Nadia was angry with him. And not just because he’d grumbled about the butler. No doubt she had cause, but one of the things he’d always liked about her was her ability to refrain from critiquing his behavior like just about everyone else in his life did. Life under the microscope, with the whole world pointing out and then reveling in his every misstep, was a pain in the ass.

  “I’m sorry I’m not perfect,” he said, his voice sharper than he intended as he grabbed for the coffeepot. “I just get tired of people acting like assholes. Crane actually bowed to me when he met me at the door, for God’s sake.”

  Nadia leaned back into the sofa’s cushions and crossed her arms over her chest, looking mulish. “He’s doing his job,” she gritted out as if he hadn’t heard her the first time. “Not everyone can do whatever the hell they want whenever the hell they want to, like you can. You were assassinated, I spent fifteen hours in the security station, Bishop is running for his life, and the most important thing you can think of to talk about is how annoying you find my butler? Really, Nate?”

  Nadia’s words hit home, and the surge of anger faded.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, stirring some sugar into the cup of coffee he’d asked for but didn’t really want. It was easier to fuss with the coffee than to look at Nadia and see the reproach in her eyes. “I guess picking at Crane is easier than facing all the other crap that’s bouncing around in my head.” He took a sip of his coffee, then wrinkled his nose at the taste. He’d put in the same amount of sugar as he usually would, but it tasted too sweet. He’d noticed the same thing at breakfast, though he’d assumed he’d absently put in too much sugar. Maybe there was a subtle difference between his taste buds and those of his original.

  Mentally, he rolled his eyes at himself. There was no point in obsessing about this. He put the cup down and risked a glance at Nadia. To his relief, her expression had softened.

  “I’m sorry, too,” she said, though as far as he was concerned, she had nothing to apologize for. “I know you must be worried sick about Bishop.”

  His fists clenched again as he fought off an image of Kurt in Mosely’s clutches. Then he smiled a bit as he fully absorbed what she’d said. “You don’t think Kurt did it.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Of course he didn’t do it!” she said indignantly. “You don’t for a moment think—”

  “No, no,” he hastened to interrupt. “I’d never in a million years believe that of Kurt. I just thought that with the so-called evidence against him, you might have doubts. You never liked him.”

  Nadia dismissed that with a wave. “I don’t have to like him to know he’s not guilty. I’ve seen the two of you together when no one else is looking. He loves you.”

  Was there a hint of wistfulness in Nadia’s voice? Nate had never asked her how she felt about their future marriage. Maybe because he was afraid he wouldn’t like the answer. She had never batted an eye when he’d revealed his secret to her, never shown any sign that she hoped to “convert” him, but that didn’t mean she was happy with the prospect of being with a man who would never be faithful to her, even once they were married. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to consummate their marriage, and any heir he produced might well be conceived with the help of a turkey baster. Fidelity would never be an option. It was all so achingly unfair, to everyone involved. Which was why he tried not to think about it too much.

  “Tell me what happened on the night I got killed,” he said. “According to the media, you and I ducked out of the party because we were hormone-crazed teenagers wanting some privacy. I know that’s not what really happened.”

  “Not exactly,” Nadia confirmed grimly. And then she told him what she knew.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Nadia hated every moment of lying to Nate. She desperately wanted to tell him everything that had happened to her since the night of the reception. Especially everything that had happened when Mosely questioned her. If she could tell Nate what Mosely wanted her to do, then together they could devise some way to work around it, some way to make it seem like she was cooperating with Mosely while not actually risking Bishop’s safety. Several times during her retelling of the night’s terrible events, she almost blurted out the truth.

  But the real truth was, she couldn’t tell Nate about Mosely. She knew Nate too well, and there was no sign that his Replica was any different. The minute she told him how Mosely had treated her, Nate would go on the warpath. He would confront Mosely, and there was no way that could end well for Nadia. Mosely would take revenge on her for talking. Of that she had no doubt, even if Nate might think he could protect her. And so she didn’t dare tell the truth, no matter how much she wanted to.

  Nate looked appropriately abashed when Nadia told him just what he’d been up to on the night of the reception, how he’d set them both up for the hell they—and Bishop—were in now. He stared down at his hands, and even winced now and again, though she tried not to be too accusatory. No matter how angry she was with him.

  “I was an asshole to you,” he said when she was finished. Maybe he hoped she’d contradict him, but she didn’t. He squirmed. “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged, which wasn’t quite an acceptance of his apology, but it was the best she could do. She was glad he was at least able to acknowledge that he’d done wrong. With Nate, sometimes that was half the battle. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if the original Nate would have apologized, or if that was just something his Replica did, but she shoved the thought away. She had seen no sign that he wasn’t identical to the original in all ways.

  “I’m going to make things right,” he said with a decisive nod. “I don’t know how, yet, but I’m going to do it.”

  Nadia had no doubt he would try. She also had no doubt that given a little prompting, he’d be happy to talk about the steps he was going to take to make things right, which would no doubt begin with finding Bishop. And if he told her anything, she was going to have to relay the information to Mosely. Sure, she could try lying and pretending she knew nothing, but with Mosely’s reputation as a human lie detector, she didn’t dare. The only way to avoid telling Mosely anything was to make sure she didn’t have anything to tell.

  And so, instead of prompting Nate to tell her what he was going to do, instead of the two of them teaming up, putting their heads together, and trying to figure out how to help Bishop and find the real killer, Nadia faked a shiver and closed her eyes with a little groan. Nate put his hand on her shoulder in sympathy.

  “Poor thing,” he murmured, pulling the quilt up from where it had pooled around her waist and tucking it around her shoulders. “If the bastards hadn’t kept you for questioning all day yesterday, you’d probably be all better by now.”

  Thanks to the medical treatment Nadia had received upon arriving home last night, she was feeling a lot better. But if exaggerating her illness would get Nate to leave without telling her anything Mosely would be interested in, then she wasn’t above doing it.

  “I feel like I could sleep for a week straight,” she said, and that was pretty close to the truth. She offered him a tenuous smile. “I was going to pump myself full of coffee to stay awake, but now I think maybe it would be better to take a nap.”

  Nate looked at the coffee service, which they had barely touched, and wrinkled his nose. “It’s crappy coffee anyway.” She could almost read his thoughts, watching his face as he considered making another wisecrack about Crane and then thought better of it. It made her think he might be capable of learning after all.

  “I’ll come by again tomorrow to see how you’re doing,” Nate promised, folding her into a hug that felt better than it had any right to. “Call me if you need anything.” He pulled away from the hug, and a hint of his usual playful smile curved his lips. “I don’t have my phone on me at the moment, but I won’t be able to avoid Dad forever, and once he’s ripped into me, I’ll stop playing hide-and-seek. Until then, if you need me, call
Fischer’s number. He’ll be stuck to my side like glue for the rest of the day.”

  Nadia returned his smile while fighting a yawn. Funny how feigning the need for a nap had turned into a very real need. “Be careful,” she warned him, the smile fading as fast as it had come. She didn’t think he was in any danger, but she worried his impulsiveness and his desire to find Bishop would lead to disaster for Bishop. Only she couldn’t explain that without initiating the very conversation she was trying to avoid, so she hurried to clarify. “I don’t suppose whoever killed you has any reason to do it again when you’re not going to stay dead, but…”

  Nate acknowledged her warning grimly. “I’ll be careful,” he promised.

  If only Nadia thought Nate’s idea of “careful” was careful enough.

  * * *

  Nadia could have used her illness as an excuse to stay in bed all day, but the idea of being alone with her thoughts wasn’t the least bit appealing. She needed distraction, even if the available distractions had their own drawbacks, so when lunchtime rolled around, she presented herself in the dining room to face her mother, this time with no sympathy-inducing symptoms to smooth the waters.

  To her surprise, Nadia’s father joined them for lunch. Ordinarily, he ate lunch, and often even dinner, at the office. He hugged her warmly, then directed the lunchtime conversation to anything other than the events of the day before. Her mother played along, and Nadia wondered if the two of them had reached some sort of agreement before Nadia had shown up. They were acting like nothing unusual had happened, as if by pretending Nadia hadn’t spent the whole day being questioned at the security station they could make the ugly incident disappear. In truth, Nadia was hardly eager to talk about the subject herself, but it felt strange and unnatural to sit at the table and talk about social events and trivialities after what she’d gone through.

  Her mother excused herself as soon as the servants began to clear the lunch dishes, and Nadia had the feeling that for once in her life, Esmeralda Lake had found making small talk burdensome. Nadia would have excused herself just as quickly, except her father stopped her, putting his arm around her shoulders and steering her to a corner where they could talk without being in the servants’ way.

  “How are you feeling, my dear?” he asked, looking down at her with concerned eyes.

  If he really wanted to hear how she felt, he wouldn’t have asked her here in the bustle of the dining room. Some Executives treated servants as if they were deaf and blind, but her father had never been one of them. With him, private conversations were held in private, and Nadia tamped down a sense of hurt. She’d known better than to expect a genuine outpouring of sympathy from her mother, but she’d hoped for more from her father.

  “Much better,” she answered, because that was the answer he was expecting. She hoped he couldn’t see how stung she was.

  He nodded approvingly. “Good, good,” he said, making eye contact only briefly. “Are you well enough to attend class this afternoon?”

  Nadia blinked in surprise at the question. Of all the things he could be concerned about, that was what he felt was important?

  Unlike Employees, Executive kids didn’t go to school but were instead privately tutored in the subjects deemed most relevant to their future lives. In order to provide a social outlet, some Executive families hosted small study groups at their homes, where a tutor was brought in to educate several students. The Lake family hosted an economics session on weekday afternoons, and Nadia was fastidious about attending, even though the group included Jewel and Blair, two-thirds of the Terrible Trio. The group also included her closest friend—other than Nate—Chloe Rathburn. Nadia wasn’t anxious to face any of them today, not even Chloe, who would undoubtedly want a full account of everything that had happened. Chloe was sweet, and Nadia genuinely liked her, but she had never been terribly sympathetic to Nadia’s struggles with Nate. If Chloe were in Nadia’s shoes, she’d do whatever Nate wanted whenever he wanted it, and she didn’t understand why Nadia didn’t feel the same way.

  Of course, Nadia had already determined she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts, and going to class would certainly provide the distraction she needed. She sighed.

  “I suppose I am,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’ve hired a new personal assistant,” her dad said in what seemed to Nadia like a complete non sequitur. He made brief eye contact with her, then looked away again, as if the admission made him uncomfortable. “His name is Robert Dante, and I’ve asked him to stand in for Sully in the afternoons.”

  Sully was the servant who was usually on duty to fetch and carry for the students during the classes, because heaven forbid an Executive girl spend a couple of hours without having a servant at her beck and call. Nadia shook her head as she tried to puzzle out what was going on.

  “You’re going to have your personal assistant stand around a classroom fetching for us instead of actually having him working for you?” That made no sense whatsoever. Nor did the fact that her father found it necessary to take her aside and announce his new hire.

  “He’s an exceptionally bright young man. I think with some additional education, he could make something of himself. I can’t have him officially attend your classes, but I believe he can learn a great deal just by listening in.” Instead of looking at her, Nadia’s dad fidgeted with one of his cuff links.

  Gerald Lake did not fidget. Nor did he usually avoid eye contact. Something about this conversation was making him uncomfortable, and Nadia was beginning to suspect she knew what it was.

  What were the chances that her father would suddenly hire a new personal assistant and decide that assistant should hang around Nadia’s classes on the very day after Nadia was detained and questioned by Paxco’s chief of security in connection with the Chairman Heir’s murder? It made no sense, and while her father’s explanation sounded logical enough, his body language screamed that there was something amiss.

  “I see,” Nadia said slowly. “I should go out of my way to make this bright young man feel welcome in our household. Is that what you’re saying?”

  Her father finally met her eyes and held her gaze. There was a hint of relief in his expression, as if the obvious irony of her question had reassured him that she had heard the message he was trying to convey without words.

  “Yes,” he said. “That’s an excellent way of putting it.”

  So, Mosely had coerced Nadia into spying on Nate, and now he’d inserted someone in her own household to spy on her. Why her father wouldn’t come right out and say it, she didn’t know. Perhaps he’d been given direct orders from the Chairman and felt he was honor bound to obey them. And with only this oblique warning delivered, he could honestly say he hadn’t told her Robert Dante was here to spy on her if Mosely asked. So perhaps she understood his reluctance to speak plainly after all.

  “I’ll do my best,” she promised, and her father gave her an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder.

  “I know you will.”

  * * *

  Nadia’s home took up the top three floors of one of the Lake Towers. The lowest of those three floors was mostly made up of servants’ quarters, but one large and sunny corner room served as a schoolroom for Nadia’s classes.

  An Executive schoolroom looked nothing like the classrooms in ordinary Employee schools. Instead of a bunch of straight-backed chairs lined up facing a teacher’s desk, there was merely a large round table with comfortable ergonomic chairs. You could tell which seat was the teacher’s because of the oversize monitor and whiteboard behind it, but Nadia had always thought the setup looked more like a conference room than a classroom. The table sat on an obviously expensive red and gold rug, and potted plants were artfully scattered throughout. A table in the far corner sported silver urns of coffee and hot water for tea, as well as elegant finger sandwiches and bite-size pastries.

  Nadia wasn’t sure what to expect as she made her way from the elevator to the schoolroom. Jewel and Blair
were both reluctant students at best, and they often skipped classes unless there was a test or some other pressing need for them to be there. Nadia hoped they would skip today so she didn’t have to spar with them, but she suspected they wouldn’t be able to resist showing up so they could pretend to be sympathetic and concerned while they pressed her for lurid details. Even if she told them nothing, they’d be sure to share a rumor or two they would claim they’d learned straight from her. At least Cherry was a year younger, so Nadia didn’t have to face the entire Trio together. But as concerned as she was with her mean-spirited classmates, she was more concerned about the ominous Robert Dante. She wondered if he was a nasty, weaselly type like Mosely, the kind of person who could give you an ingratiating smile while freezing your marrow with the coldness of his eyes.

  Nadia felt uncommonly nervous when she stepped through the doorway into the schoolroom, her eyes darting around quickly to get the lay of the land.

  As she’d suspected, Jewel and Blair were both present. They stood together in the far corner of the room, each holding a china cup and saucer while they bent their heads together and talked softly, giggling. Nadia’s immediate assumption was that they were talking about her, but perhaps she was being self-centered.

  Chloe was sitting at the table, about as far away from the other girls as she could get in the confines of the schoolroom. Supposedly, racism had been all but abolished in these advanced and civilized times, but the Rathburns were the only black Executive family in Paxco, and Chloe always seemed to hover around the fringes of Executive society. Although she was invited to and attended all the Executive parties and events, she always gave the impression that she was on the outside looking in. Nadia had never been sure whether it was on account of Chloe holding herself aloof or whether it was because the other Executives subtly shut her out.