“Wow. I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, we even went to pay tribute to her grave in Valhalla. So believe me, it’s a bit like a religion for him.”
Matthew seems to ponder something, and, after seeing my hand resting on the table, he reaches for it and says, “Look, I promise we’ll work as hard as possible to do the best study we can on objectivism. Even if I hate it to its core.”
I feel the urge to ask him why he hates it so much, but since he didn’t bring it up, I decide to bite my tongue and close the subject once and for all. “Thanks,” I tell him, keeping my smile just as a big. “It means a lot.”
After lunch, as I see everyone getting ready to leave, I can’t help but ask, “Where are you guys heading now?”
“Matthew and I are heading to the library. We’ve reserved two seats there,” Sarah replies.
“Really? The library is open?” I ask instantly.
“Yeah, but you have to book a spot in advance to get in.” And my hopes are crashed just as fast.
“And I booked a table at the cafeteria,” David adds, a big grin on his lips. “You wanna join us?”
Looking at my watch, I see I still have two hours before my next class, so why not? “Of course. I miss the smoothies they used to serve.”
Matthew Bradford
Damn it! My feelings toward Petra are more serious than I thought. As soon as I saw her welcoming us into her house with her beautiful wavy black hair, her big blue eyes, and the cute little smile on her face, I knew I had never stopped having feelings for her. But how come she woke up from the coma just a couple of days ago and is now engaged?
I try to focus on page fifty-four, analyzing the supply and demand market and governmental intervention in the ’70s, but I can’t. After all, I’ve never thought getting engaged was something Petra had in mind. I mean, she’s not even nineteen! Why the hurry? Maybe it was the coma that gave her boyfriend the courage to get down on one knee so fast…
And who is her fiancé, by the way? She’s never given us any info about him. What’s his name? What does he do? How old is he? I said he’s fifteen years older than Petra, but it might be even more… Is he that superficial and shallow that he needs to pick her up in a Rolls-Royce? Jeez, if I knew it had belonged to him, I’d never have looked at it.
One thing is for sure: after my terrible douchebag attitude this morning, Petra won’t be sharing any info about him with me anytime soon. But she might have shared some with Sarah and Katrina… Looking at Sarah, who’s right in front of me, I ask, “Sweet Sarah, how are you?”
She suspiciously raises an eyebrow as she stares at me from behind her big, rounded glasses. “What do you want to know?” Putting down her book, she leans back in her chair, folding her arms. “Who’s the man behind Petra’s engagement ring?” She knows me so well.
“Yes, pleaaaase,” I assert instantly, rubbing my hands together.
“Not happening.” And she dives back into her book.
“Why?” I lean forward, lowering my voice. “Did she tell you who is he? At least his name?”
“Not even his name, no. You know her. She’s closed up like a shell. Katrina and I have nicknamed him Mr. No Name. I just know he works on Wall Street, a hedge fund manager like her dad.”
“Impossible to find out with so little…”
Sarah sighs loudly. “Matt, for your own sanity, forget her, alright? She is into someone else.”
“It’s not that easy.” I pause for a beat. “Petra is perfect for me. She’s really my type. She is smart, kind, funny, humble, modest…” I let out a breath, probably sounding pathetic as I look at Sarah’s unimpressed face. “She is just confused, I’m sure. No one gets engaged after waking up from a coma.” And before Sarah can say a word, I ask, “Did she give you any details about how he proposed?”
Sarah chuckles at me like I just said the stupidest thing in the world. Did I? “She proposed to him.”
“Oh…” I feel utterly dumb now.
“They had decided before her coma to get engaged, but the proposal didn’t happen until she woke up and took care of it.” I blink twice, but my jaw remains on the floor. “Now that you know it was Ms. Van Gatt who rushed Mr. No Name into engagement, move on, and let me finish my book.”
But I’ve got more to ask. “Do you know why it didn’t happen? I mean, why he didn’t propose before?”
Sarah rolls her eyes just as fast. “Oh boy. No, I don’t know. I’m not the gestapo. Why don’t you ask her? She doesn’t bite.”
“Um, after our argument this morning, I’m not sure…”
The truth is, there’s no point in staying in the library if I can’t focus. I have to talk to Petra. We can’t stay mad at each other forever, especially because of my attitude this morning. Our friendship is too dear to me. After leaving the library, I find her entertained in the cafeteria with Katrina and David, a straw between her lips, drinking a strawberry smoothie. She looks all sweet and adorable with them. Not sure how she’ll be with me though. One thing is for sure: I’ve got to apologize first. Taking a deep breath, I glance at the vitrine on my right to check my reflection, and, seeing that I look presentable, I walk toward them.
Removing my mask, I ask, “Petra, may I talk to you?”
She takes a sip of her smoothie, while Katrina and David look at me with a WTF face.
“Outside, I mean.”
“Um, sure.”
A grin of joy warms up my face.
Petra takes up her backpack without even letting the straw fall from her lips, and follows me outside, where we decide to stroll around the campus.
She smells exactly like before—jasmine flowers. Ahhh… Petra’s scent, I’ve missed it terribly. It’s delicate, elegant, young, and feminine.
We finally stop walking. She looks at me, wondering what I will say or do next. My first impulse is to kiss her, taste her beautiful glossy lips, and tell her this engagement is total nonsense. But I’m sure I’d get a slap in return, so instead I say, “I really wanted to apologize for my attitude this morning. I was behaving like a total ass.” I pause, carefully pondering my next words. It’s not easy for me to open up about my feelings. And it’s not like I intended to, but I owe her an apology and at least some sort of explanation. “I’m not gonna lie, I… um, I got pretty pissed off as soon as I saw you with your ring on.” I feel bad for talking about it, but she doesn’t seem put off by the conversation. Petra keeps listening, her vibe so kind and affable, like the friend she has always been. I break eye contact, my eyes staring at nothing. Jeez, the reality that she’s now the fiancée of anyone but me is devastating. “I was angry and sad, but if it makes you happy, then I’m happy,” I lie, but she smiles in return, so it’s all good. That’s all that matters anyway. “I hope you are really sure about this engagement. I mean, you’re very young. I was just worried about you, as I found it quite odd…”
To my surprise, she hugs me tight in excitement. Wow. Finding her arms wrapped around my neck, her hair itching my nose, her heart beating against mine is way more than I ever thought it would be. I do my best to remain insensible to it, but I’m only human.
“Thanks,” she says in relief. “I’m so glad we can continue to be friends.” Well, what choice do I have? After she releases me, Petra looks down at her iPhone and says, “Well, my next class is starting soon. I’ve got go.” And she gives me a quick peck on the cheek before leaving me.
Chapter 6
Bedford Hills, September 11, 2020
Petra Van Gatt
The week went by pretty fast, but regardless of that, I counted every single day until Alex would finally come and pick me up to go to our engagement party. Respecting my dad’s wishes that I only see Alex during the weekend so I can focus on my studies during the week has been harder than I thought. I think his demand is total bullshit, but since Dad has been so supportive, I’ve been going along with it. Plus, Alex and I text every day and even FaceTime, so it’s not like we don’t talk to each other.
But obviously it’s not the same. As the car crosses the gate and goes into the driveway of his estate, I feel my heartbeat accelerating with every second— tonight we will finally make our engagement official to his family. And I only hope everything will go smoothly and that Emma managed to arrange something decent to amaze the guests. As I am engrossed in my thoughts, I feel Alex’s hand pressing against mine and his attention never leaving me. “Are you alright?”
His low voice makes my gaze travel from the outdoors to his blue eyes. And as our eyes lock, my lips curving up, I tell him, “Yeah, I’m just so happy to be here with you.” I lift his hand, giving it a kiss. “Thanks for believing in us.”
As Alex and I arrive in the roundabout, I’m surprised to see the one and only Emma Hasenfratz waiting for us, standing on the front porch. She’s already sporting a black lace evening dress, which reminds me I still have to get dressed before the guests arrive. “Hi, Emma,” I greet her as soon as I get out of the car.
“Oh, finally!” I notice Emma was just finishing smoking as she drops her cigarette on the ground and smashes it with her high heel, then she promptly walks over in my direction, and, after briefly greeting Alex, she takes me by the arm and drags me in a rush inside the house.
“What’s the hurry?” I ask as we go upstairs.
“You need to get dressed,” Emma replies just as fast. “Guests are gonna be here in twenty minutes.” And I’m surprised at how comfortable she is walking me down the hallway and into my fiancé’s bedroom like it was hers. There, I see three different dresses lying on the bed, and Emma takes the first one before saying, “Janine brought three different dresses for you to choose from, but I think this one is gonna suit you the most.” The one Emma’s holding is a long, white mesh dress embroidered with red flowers and green stems. I let a small smile escape at seeing how similar it is to the dress I wore in Aspen. I glance at the others, but this one is definitely the most beautiful and unique to me.
“Alright, this one is fine.” I take off my sneakers, then my jeans and shirt, and Emma helps me get into the dress.
As she closes the zip on the back, I hear her asking, “Did you speak to him already?” And I know exactly what she is talking about.
A tense silence settles between us as I ponder for a moment. “Not yet,” I tell her quietly. With the dress on, I start observing my figure in the mirror. “Looks good, no?”
“Babe,” Emma mumbles, her expression laced with disappointment. “You guys have to talk. That nightmare was—”
“I know,” I cut her off. “But this evening is definitely not the right one to talk about this.” Then I see a pair of heels standing by the mirror, and after putting them on, I ask again in an attempt to change the subject, “Do you think these heels go well with this dress?”
But Emma is not giving up, and as she stands beside me, she looks at me in the mirror and forces me to face reality with one single question. “What are you afraid of?”
Letting out a sigh, I break eye contact, my gaze darting down for an instant as I consider if I should tell her the truth or not. “I have something else in mind besides confronting him.”
And as I look again at the mirror, I can see Emma raising her brows. “Really?”
“Yes.” Before she can keep inquiring, I turn, and, holding her stare, I say, “Look, I really appreciate all your advice, but he’s the one who has to be honest with me about my mom. I’m not supposed to know they had a talk. Alex is the one who must come forward and tell me about it. Not the other way around.”
Emma contemplates my answer for a second. “And what if he doesn’t?”
“Well, then, I assume he handled the situation.” And trying to leave the subject behind once and for all, I ask, “What time are they arriving?”
“Around six p.m.,” Emma replies, glancing at her watch.
“You look very beautiful today,” I blurt out. “I mean, you’re always beautiful. But that black dress looks really nice on you.” After all, it’s not every day that Ms. Hasenfratz dresses up in a fancy lace dress with high heels.
She gives me a big smile in return, brushing my arm in gratitude. “Thanks. You look great too,” she praises. “Alright, we should go out to welcome them. Where’s your fiancé?”
But a text pops up before I can reply. “Oh, Yara is here. Let’s go.” I take a clutch, shove my iPhone into it, and drag Emma with me as we go back to the entrance to welcome Alex’s youngest sister.
Standing on the porch, we notice Yara’s car coming around the roundabout and stopping right in front of us. The valet opens the rear door and extends a hand to help her.
As she gets out of the car, neither Emma nor I can help but gape. In our defense, Yara has this very enigmatic expression, with her dark brown eyes always so stern yet mysterious. Her posture is just as straight as the last time I saw her. Not surprisingly, she’s wearing her usual equestrian attire, with black boots, beige breeches, and a white shirt buttoned up to the neck with a dark blazer. Her hair is brushed back in a high ponytail, giving her a sense of finesse that fits her so well.
“Who’s this woman?” Emma whispers nearly out of breath. “Fuck…” she blurts out. “She looks like a model coming out of a Ralph Lauren ad.”
“Let me introduce you.” I grab Emma’s arm, and we walk in Yara’s direction. “Yara!” I greet with a big grin.
But Yara first glances to my right, where Emma is standing.
“Petra,” she finally greets back. “So good to see you again.” Her voice is more formal than usual though. Not sure if it’s because there’s a stranger standing beside me.
After giving her three cheek kisses, I introduce her to Emma. “Yara, this is Emma, my best friend.”
“Emma Hasenfratz,” Emma adds with an ounce of snobbish formality as she extends a hand. The fact that she wanted to add her surname leaves me a bit troubled, but I guess she must have her reasons for doing so.
Yara observes Emma’s hand for a second, considering it. Then her stern brown eyes meet Emma’s. “Yara Van Lawick,” she replies, shaking her hand. “Pleasure meeting you, Ms. Hasenfratz.”
Wow. Such a formal introduction—not what I expected, to say the least. Yara used to be so casual in the Netherlands. And what happened to her sense of humor? This seems to be a totally different Yara from the one I met last year.
“Mrs. Van Lawick, please just call me Emma.”
What? I’ve never heard Emma being so refined and polite to anyone in my entire life. What happened to her casual manners? Emma seems like a totally transformed woman as she stands in front of Yara. Is that because she is from nobility? No freaking idea. But it’s weird to see Emma talking like a posh lady.
Yara smiles back at Emma and says, “And you may just call me Yara.”
They keep their voices so contained that I can’t help but roll my eyes. What’s going on?
“Ah! Elliott!” I say in relief as I glance at Yara’s husband.
“Petra!” He offers me a warm, friendly hug. “Congratulations on the engagement. I’m so happy for you and Van Dieren. You guys deserve it.”
“Thank you so much,” I tell him, still perplexed that Yara didn’t say the same. “Where are the kids? They didn’t come?”
“Nah,” he answers, patting me on the back. “We love you guys too much to bring them. They are with the nanny.” As Elliott looks around, he then asks, “Where is your fiancé?”
“Oh, I think he’s still inside with my dad. Let me check.” I grab my iPhone out of my clutch and call him, but as I hear the door opening behind us and Elliott shouting, “Alex!” I hang up.
“Elliott! So good to see you!” My fiancé welcomes him with a hug and a pat on the back. “Where’s everyone else?”
“They should be here in a minute,” Elliott replies. “We were just a bit ahead.” In fact, as soon as Elliott finishes his sentence, we see three more executive black cars entering the roundabout.
As the first car parks in front of us, a big grin
lands on my lips upon recognizing Alex’s oldest sister, Julia. This time, though, I go to greet her on my own. “Julia!”
Julia reciprocates with a warm grin and opens her arms wide to welcome me into a hug. “I’m so happy to see you alive,” she whispers in my ear. “You have always been in my prayers.” Oh, wow. Her words were not expected but they are just as welcome, bringing a wave of emotion through me.
“Thank you,” I say discreetly. At least her kindness and warmth are just as I recall. “I’m so happy to see you again.”
“How are you doing?” she asks in a low voice, observing me. “Have you been eating properly?”
“Yes, I have,” I tell her, feeling quite self-conscious about my struggle to do so. “I’m, um, on medication for anxiety and PTSD.” I haven’t opened up about this to anyone, but I guess with Julia it’s a bit different.
She doesn’t seem surprised; rather, she keeps her expression just as serious and attentive. “Of course. After everything you went through, I can imagine.” Then she takes my hands unexpectedly, her seriousness deepening. “I’m sorry for your loss, Petra. If you need anything, you know I’m here, right?”
“Oh…” Now that was unexpected. “Alex told you?”
“Petra…” She cocks her head to the side. “I knew before anyone else.” And my gaze drops to the floor just as fast. Of course she knew before anyone else. Who was I trying to fool? “I don’t want you to blame yourself for anything, alright?”
I frown at her request. “Um, what do you mean?”
Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter Book 2) Page 8
