Anathema (Causal Enchantment, #1) (9 page)

“
Yes,” I stammered, “it’s just …
you’re much too generous.”

“
Oh, nonsense. We’re billionaires!
We have wads of cash lying around this place,” Viggo boasted
casually.

“
Yes. This is nothing—loose change,
for us. Take it and have some fun. We insist,” Mortimer added,
standing.

“
We’ll just steal more when we’re
running low,” Viggo said, chuckling.

Sofie stood up abruptly, her face and voice a
mask of calm. “Evangeline, why don’t you go grab your coat. It’s
chilly out.” She didn’t glance in my direction as she spoke, her
pale eyes glued to Viggo’s face. Something was very
wrong.

“
We can go another time, Sofie, if
you have other things you need to do. It’s okay,” I
said.

An uncomfortably long pause ensued, Viggo and
Sofie exchanging silent looks. Then she suddenly turned to me, a
brilliant smile on her face. “Nothing is more important than taking
you out shopping on your birthday. Now go, get ready!”

I turned to Viggo and Mortimer. “I don’t know
what to say but thank you—again.”

“
Anything for such a sweet girl, my
darling,” Viggo said, winking a second time.

Max—always by my side—took that as his cue. He
was back on duty, leading me up to my room with my ridiculous stash
of money.
Was I greedy to accept it? But how could I say
no?
They had practically forced it on me. Well, I didn’t have
to spend it. I would leave it in the nightstand when we left for
Maine. A maid would eventually find it.
An early Christmas
bonus for her
.

œ

Our black town car pulled out of the tunnel
around two that afternoon with Leo at the wheel and Max whining by
the gate, eliciting an exasperated look from Sofie.

As we turned onto a busy street, Sofie pointed
to a massive forest on its other side. “That’s Central Park, right
there.”

I’d been too overwhelmed to notice it the night
we arrived. “Wow, it’s so big,” I murmured.

“
Maybe we’ll go one day this week.
Drop us off at Saks, will you?” Sofie instructed Leo.

“
I can’t believe Viggo and Mortimer,
with the money. They’re so nice,” I said.

“
Yes, it would appear that way,
wouldn’t it?” Sofie said through clenched teeth. Then she sighed
loudly and, as if that simple act released a mountain of tension, a
broad smile splashed across her beautiful face and the fire went
out. “Let’s go spend all their hard–earned money.”

The car dropped us off and I followed her into
Saks like a seven–year–old tailing her mother. “Fifth Avenue is the
most expensive street in the world for shopping,” Sofie announced.
And then she transformed into a human wrecking ball, weaving
through the place without caution, casually yanking clothes off the
racks and tossing them at me. “Try these on. And I want to see all
of them,” she demanded, the look in her eyes brooking no argument.
Not that I would argue. I’d gladly play her dress–up doll if that’s
what she wanted.

Two sales ladies descended upon us, eyes alight
with the possibility of large commissions, but froze in their
tracks with one venomous look from Sofie. I guessed she wasn’t in
the mood for help.

With my arms buried under clothes, we headed
back to the fitting room, where I spent the next half an hour
modeling for Sofie.

“
I always dreamed of doing this with
a daughter,” Sofie sighed, helping me with the zipper of a black
evening gown.

“
You still can. You’re
young.”

Sofie laughed sadly. “There was a time when I
dearly longed for two little girls—my dolls.”

It was my first glimpse of Sofie as something
other than my confident and beautiful boss. By briefly sharing such
a personal dream, she became human to me. I desperately needed to
see more. “You still have plenty of time, Sofie.” She smirked but
said nothing. “You just haven’t met the right guy yet,” I
continued, defaulting to the universal explanation all females had
firmly committed to memory by their early tween years.

Sofie’s lips pursed. “I did. The perfect guy.”
She finished with the zipper and turned me to get a
look.

“
What happened?”

“
It didn’t … end well.” She glanced
at my pendant before scooping up a pile of clothes and walking
toward the cash register.

I paid for my purchase with my birthday money,
holding my breath as I counted out and laid thousand dollar bills
on the counter. We stepped out of the store to find Leo waiting
with the car.

“
Let’s drop these bags off in the
car and—” Sofie stopped in mid–sentence, her eyes suddenly scanning
the street, an apprehensive grimace marring her beautiful
face.

“
What’s wrong?”

She didn’t respond, still searching.

“
Sofie?”

“
This way. Lots of shops to hit
still!” she said abruptly, pounding the trunk door twice with her
hand. It popped open in response. She tossed her bags in, then
turned to stalk toward the next retail victim.

Hurricane Sofie whipped through three more posh
stores on a spiteful mission to exhaust every last cent of Viggo
and Mortimer’s money. I noticed her glance out the window several
times with that same cautious gleam in her eye but each time I
asked, she shrugged it off.

“
I really don’t need any more
clothes, Sofie,” I said as we stood in front of the fifth clothing
store, my arms laden with bags. And I meant it. Between what we’d
just purchased and the full closet back at Viggo and Mortimer’s, I
had enough clothing to last me a lifetime. Growing up, my mother
never had enough money for more than a pair of Wranglers and tennis
shoes at one time. My foster families were required to ensure I had
an adequate selection of clean, hole–free clothing, but there was
never enough money to indulge in a pair of designer jeans, let
alone go hog wild. This was beyond excessive.

“
You’re right,” she said, her brow
furrowing in thought. A devilish smile spread her lips. “Follow
me.”

I remained clueless of her intentions until I
saw the Harry Winston sign. Jewelry. I groaned.

Marching in, she headed straight for a counter
and turned to me. “Pick something out, Evangeline,” she
demanded.

I swallowed, gazing down at the display cases
full of sparkling jewels. “I don’t need—”

“
Okay, this one.” She pointed to a
diamond bracelet. The clerk rushed to pull it out. “Wrist,” Sofie
ordered.

I obliged. The clerk slipped on the bracelet. I
turned my arm slowly, watching the light reflect off the countless
stones. It was stunning. “How much is it?” I asked. When the clerk
told me I choked, my eyes bugging out of my head in shock. “Get it
off! Please!”

“
We’ll buy it,” Sofie
announced.

“
Sofie! I don’t need a bracelet!
That could pay for college!” My stomach churned as the words left
my mouth, the truth of it distressing. It would take me a lifetime
to save that kind of money.

She ignored me, wrenching my purse from my arm
and pulling out a wad of money. The clerk behind the counter raised
an eyebrow but remained quiet, likely calculating his commission.
Sofie calmly counted out bills—a thick pile of them—with the ease
of someone paying for her weekly groceries.

“
Thank you!” she said, smiling at
the clerk. “Okay, we’re done.” She handed me the box holding the
bracelet.

I stared at her, flabbergasted, wondering what
this wild woman had done with the reserved, graceful Sofie I had
met only days ago.

Surprise flashed in her minty eyes then, and
she sighed. “I must seem a little erratic today,” she murmured,
smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry. It’s just … you deserve a hundred
times more than anything Viggo and Mortimer could ever buy
you.”

I frowned. “I don’t understand—”

She cut me off, grabbing hold of my arm. “Come
on.” She led me out the door. I clutched the box with the bracelet
to my chest with my free hand, visions of a mugger waiting to
pounce and steal it playing through my head.

“
Where to now?” Sofie
asked.

“
Why don’t we just window shop for a
bit?” I suggested.
You’ve won! You’ve punished Viggo and
Mortimer for whatever they did to you
.

But Sofie hadn’t even heard me. She was busy
scanning the pedestrians and cars along Fifth Avenue yet again.
Wearing that look again.

“
What’s wrong, Sofie?”

Silence. I watched quietly as her expression
turned from suspicion to comprehension to fury.

“
Come,” she suddenly said, hooking
onto my arm and tugging me forward. “I’m tired. It’s time to go
home.” She practically threw me into the car. “Home. Now,” she
ordered Leonardo. The wheels squealed as we cut into traffic and
raced off, earning several angry blasts from horns.

“
Leonardo, please help Evangeline
with her things,” Sofie called out over her shoulder, marching
through the red doors at Viggo and Mortimer’s expansive abode.
“Viggo!” I heard her yell.

Max galloped over to stand by my side while I
stared after Sofie, my head still spinning from the chaotic
afternoon with her. I turned to see Leonardo struggling with
countless shopping bags, not at all ruffled by Sofie’s dark mood.
“I can do that.” I ran over, grabbing the bags out of his
hands.

The sound of glass breaking and Sofie’s shrill
voice stopped me in my tracks. “Someone’s watching us!” she
screamed. Silence followed, presumably while Viggo tried to calm
her. It didn’t work. “Do you think this is another one of your
games? Do you realize what’s at stake?”

“
Come, Miss Evangeline. You must be
hungry.” Leonardo grabbed my arm. He pulled me into the building
with more strength than I expected from the old man. Max followed,
practically glued to my hip.

“
What’s going on, Leonardo?” I
whispered, but the old man didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t hear me.
I opened my mouth to repeat the question but decided against it. I
was probably better off not knowing.

I sat quietly at the counter as Magda, the
heavy Russian cook, placed a bowl of stew in front of me. “You eat
now,” she commanded in broken English.

“
Thank you.”

She nodded once, unsmiling, and marched back to
the stove to stir the contents of a giant pot.

Despite Sofie’s screams and my growing
agitation, I was famished; I dove in with reckless abandon,
shoveling a spoon filled with gravy and a chunk of meat into my
mouth.

“
Oh, good! You’ve found
food!”

Startled, I dropped my fork. It clattered
loudly against my plate.

“
So sorry to scare, darling,” Viggo
apologized, placing a cool hand on my shoulder. “Did you have fun
today?”

I nodded, my mouth full.

“
We have a special surprise for
you,” Viggo continued. “When you’re finished, go get dressed.
There’s a dress hanging on the door of your closet. We leave at
seven o’clock. Meet in the atrium.” With that, Viggo vanished,
leaving me chewing my stew, and very curious.