Contractor (35 page)

"…so if you don’t approve, it’s not

allowed? Some friend you are."

Eleanor huffed. "I’ll not be provoked

again. Goodbye, Mr. Fitzgerald. I doubt

we’ll have reason to speak to one another

after this."

"Oh, don’t worry. We will." Daniel

tapped a few buttons on his cell phone. The

message sent
blurb dinged on his screen.

She eyed him a moment longer, then marched

off down the hall without bothering to

answer. "Are you sure you don’t want to

know why?" he called.

He watched her fingers curl up. Her fists

clenched. She turned back with a look that

could kill. "Why, of all the things I could be

doing with my time, would I want to speak

with you?"

"Because." Daniel hit the play button on

his cell phone. Her voice came out hollow

over the speaker.

I understand your father’s position at

work is rather fragile after his long

depression. It would be a shame if he lost

his job.

It sure would be.

And your insurance payments for your

mother’s death? I can have the

circumstances reinvestigated. I could

destroy your family’s financial security.

Eleanor lunged for his cell. Daniel let

her take it without resisting. She backed

away from him a few steps, glancing

between him and his phone. "…looks like

I’ve stolen your trump card. You’ll be paying

double for that."

"The thing about data," Daniel said, "is that it’s very easily copied."

"…what have you done?"

"I sent that recording to everyone in my

contacts list and asked them to send it to

everyone in their contacts list. The whole

campus will know you’re a lunatic in about

five minutes." Daniel put a finger on his lips.

"I wonder what Rachel will think about all

this?"

The alabaster statue that was Eleanor

Astor began to crack. Her lips twitched. His

phone creaked as her grip tightened. "You…

no one will believe you! My family is -"

"Just shut up already," Daniel said.

"Who is everyone going to believe? The kid

who made lasagna for them and is an all-

around good guy, or duchess, the turbo

bitch?" She flinched at hearing her nickname.

"Tabloids don’t care about how amazing and

perfect your family is. In fact, they’ll be even

more excited because they’ll be to be the

ones to ruin your so-called good name." He

walked forward until he was standing by her

side. She didn’t move. "How does it feel to

be outsmarted by useless trash?"

She looked at him. Her beautiful face

had warped into an ugly mask of loathing. "I

won’t forgive you for this."

"Can I have my cellphone back now?"

Eleanor shrieked and chucked it down

as hard as she could. The padded casing and

the soft carpet made it bounce a few times.

Daniel picked it up. "Oh, hey, a message

from Jack. He says you’re a turbo bitch. You

know what they say: great minds think alike."

Daniel chuckled. "Apparently the whole

dining hall is laughing it up right now."

"You’ll regret this. Mark my words."

"Whatever you say, Monte Cristo."

Daniel pretended to open another message.

"Oh, Rebecca Dalton’s father knows

someone who works for CNN. She’s offered

to get me in touch. That’s convenient. Do you

know her? She’s in our calculus class."

Eleanor’s eyes shimmered. Her anger

crumbled as she realized the inevitability of

the situation. Daniel felt no pity. "…just go.

If it’s done, then leave me be."

"Actually, just kidding," Daniel said. "I didn’t actually send it to anyone."

She blinked, baffled. "What?"

Daniel sighed. Maybe he was getting

soft in his old age. "I didn’t send it to

anyone."

She rubbed her eyes. "…then…I

don’t…"

"Look," Daniel said, "I just wanted to freak you out, not make you cry, ok?"
Even if
you are an evil bitch, Rachel still has to

live with you.
"But I did send a copy to two other email addresses, though, so unless you

think you can hack into Google and Yahoo,

stealing my cell phone won’t help you."

Eleanor stood there, processing what

he’d said. He’d told only one white lie—he

had a backup for his backup. He’d sent it to

three different email addresses and his home

computer’s hard drive. Just in case she
could

hack into fortune 500 companies.

Eventually, she looked back at him.

"What do you want?"

"Stay out of my life, and Rachel’s

personal life," Daniel said. "I know you have history. Whatever. It’s none of my business,

and I intend on respecting that as long as you

keep your cool. But she gets to make her own

decisions. If you don’t like some of her

choices, tough shit. You don’t get to throw a

fit every time something happens. Capiche?"

"If you’re lying -"

"You’d find out really quick if I was,"

Daniel said. He started walking away. "Have

a nice life."

"You’ve dated her what?" Eleanor

called. "A month? Why are you so

persistent? I know her better than you! I

know what she needs better than you!"

Daniel stopped one last time. "Are you

really her friend?"

"Of course I am!" she shouted. A tear

rolled down her cheek. "More than you could

ever be! More than you could understand!

You don’t know me, or her, or -"

"Then start acting like it, you selfish

piece of shit!" he shouted. She brought her

hands up to her chest, as if to defend herself

from the sound of his voice. He leveled a

finger at her. "You’re so concerned with

what you think is best for her that you’ve

convinced yourself that’s what she needs.

You don’t care about her. You just want to

control her to compensate for your own

insecurities. You’re jumping through mental

hoops I can’t even believe. But it all boils

down to the same bullshit. Underneath the

makeup, you’re a self-conscious idiot. Big

fucking surprise!"

Daniel stormed away.

****

A minute later, Daniel was at Eleanor

and Rachel’s room. He knew their room

number, but he usually left Rachel at the end

of the hallway. He examined the door for a

moment, collecting his thoughts, then

knocked. There was a scraping and scuffling.

He heard socks padding across a carpet. The

door opened.

Rachel was there. Her eyes were red.

"…Daniel."

"Hey."

She grabbed him and cried into his

shoulder. He bundled her up, brought her into

the room, and sat her down on her bed. He

patted her on the back and waited for her to

get it out of her system.

Their room was bigger than the others;

they each had their own individual bed,

rather than a shared bunk. He could tell

Eleanor’s side of the room immediately. It

was crisp and immaculate. A conservative

blue, white, and gold pattern repeated itself

on her comforters, window shades, and even

the upholstery of her chair.

Rachel’s side of the room was a mess.

She had clothes everywhere. Her bed was

more pillows and dolls than mattress. It was

saturated with greens and pinks, chaotic, but

rich with her personality. Just like her. She

always wore herself on her sleeve.

Except when it concerned Eleanor. The

strain of keeping that inside was ripping at

her every day. And now she was reduced to

this.

"Daniel." She wiped the tears from her

eyes. Gone was the strong, stubborn redhead.

Gone was the outgoing girl that bantered

with him. "…there’s something I—I can’t…"

"Eleanor already got to you, huh?"

"…how did you know?"

"There’s something you need to hear."

Daniel explained what had happened.

He played back the recording on his cell

phone from start to finish. Rachel didn’t say

anything for a long time. Daniel lent her the

patience she’d given him, quietly waiting

with an arm around her waist.

"I just…" Rachel trailed off. She put a

hand on her face. "No. I can believe it. I just

really don’t want to."

"This isn’t normal," Daniel said. "I

don’t know what’s happened between you

two, but this is not how sisters should

operate." He sighed. "But…I know it’s part

of your secret. I won’t go there. But I’m

stopping this."

"…stopping what?"

"I’ve got copies of the recording saved

in a few safe places. I told her she’s done

butting into your life, or the campus gets an

earful. She doesn’t get to tell you what to do

anymore, or influence your decisions. You’re

your own woman. You should have what

makes you happy, not what satisfies her

criteria." He shrugged. "I pegged her for the kind that puts everything on public

reputation. Easy pickings."

Rachel buried her face on Daniel’s chest

and, if anything, wailed louder. He could

feel the palpable weight come off her

shoulders. He could feel her joy. He couldn’t

remember the last time he could say that with

any honesty about someone else.

"Thanks," Rachel managed.

"What are boyfriends for?"

"Boyfriend, huh?" She sniffed, then

smiled. "Guess that makes me your

girlfriend."

He kissed her forehead. "You know,

when I got up this morning, I just thought,

shit, I could die today. I need to go see

Rachel, right now." He kissed her cheek.

"You’re driving me insane."

"I am?"

"It’s kinda lame to say, but I can’t stop

thinking about you."

"…you need to work on your delivery,"

Rachel said. She rubbed her nose. "But

practice makes perfect."

Daniel hacked a laugh. He looked

around at her bed. "You’ve got a lot of

pillows," Daniel said. "And dolls."

"I made them. I make some of my own

clothes, too."

"I had no idea."

"I learned to sew from my mother,"

Rachel said. "I love dolls. I just…" Rachel shifted her fingers to her shoulders. "I

realized something last night. Eleanor sees

me as a doll. Maybe it’s extreme to say that,

but somehow…it really describes our

relationship."

"I think I know what you mean."

"…I felt so bad. I just wanted to see

you, too."

Daniel tightened his arm around her,

bringing her against him. "…it’s not bad to

want someone to understand and accept you,"

he whispered. "It can’t be." He looked at her.

"Why didn’t you mention it before? Your

sewing? It seems like it’s kind of a big

hobby."

"…Eleanor thinks it’s childish, so…I

was worried you would think the same."

"Really?"

"…if you were more selfish, you’d be

her," Rachel said. "You’re very similar."

Daniel didn’t know what to make of that.

The thought bothered him more than a little.

In the end, he just shrugged. "If you say so."

"But I honestly believe she doesn’t mean

it the way she does," Rachel said. "She isn’t mean-spirited. She just doesn’t get it. I

think…I think she has some deep seated

worries. Something she doesn’t talk to

anyone about, a worry strong enough to make

her act like this."

"I guess it’s enough to make you give up

after a while."

Rachel’s eyes went hard and fierce.

"But that’s changing. Today. Starting right

now."

The echo of his own words rung in his

head. Change. He had changed. Jack had

changed. Rachel had changed. He’d always

thought people couldn’t change, but here they

were. Maybe college was good for

something other than student debt after all.

"Yeah," Daniel agreed. "Good." They sat there, then, basking in each other’s

company.

"You’re finally in my room," Rachel

said after a moment. She smiled. There was

something shady about her grin that he

couldn’t quite place. "Want to see some of

the clothes I’ve made?"

"Would now be a bad time for a dress-

up joke?"

She laughed her warm laugh. "You’re

impossible."

"I won’t complain about having Rachel

Ashworth as my own personal model."

"I’ve got something that’ll shut you and

your big mouth up." She got up from the bed

and rooted through her drawer. She ducked

into the bathroom before he could see what

she picked. "No peeking!" she yelled. The

door slammed shut.

Daniel had half a mind to walk right up

and open it, but through sheer force of will,

he kept himself under control. He listened to

the flutter and rustle of clothes. It wasn’t long

until the door creaked back open.

Rachel padded out in a cerulean blue

slip. The nightgown was tight around her

curves and very short.

"Uh…" Eventually, his eyes traveled