The Lake (The Lake Trilogy, Book 1) (21 page)

Will pulls away just as forcefully as he embraced me and it’s over all too soon. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, not like that,” he says, catching his breath.

“Why are you sorry?” I’m only sorry he stopped.

“I just don’t want…I can’t get carried away,” he says.

“Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh my gosh, Layla! It
is
you, but not the way you think. You do everything right. It would be far too easy for me to get carried away with you. I don’t want our relationship to turn into
that
. I love you too much to let anything, even how much I want you, ruin this.”

“Oh…ok. I see.” I understand, but it doesn’t seem to make me feel much better. It’s a strange feeling to want Will the way I do. I want to be as close to him as I possibly can. I want to feel his hands on my body pulling me to him. It’s in those moments that everything, every tragedy of my life, slips away. My past is gone and Will is my future.

“I think you should fake an illness,” Will says turning our conversation back to the issue at hand.

“Will, we can’t hide from him forever. I can do this. Let me help, please.” I look into Will’s eyes and fall into them immediately. I start to think of a strategy and wonder if there isn’t any kind of pleasant resolve to this. “Isn’t there any reason he would like me?”

“My dear, sweet, Layla,” Will says, his words penetrating my heart. “There are infinite reasons for him to like you. Unfortunately, the only reason he cares about is absent from your profile. You lack the shallowness necessary to live a life obsessed with money and power.”

“Oh…well, is there anything I can do or change? Don’t you think I could
make
him like me?” I’m good at adapting to meet the need of the circumstance. I did it for five years with my grandparents, and I’m willing to do anything if it will make things easier for us.

“Are you kidding me?” he smiles and takes my face in his hands. “Layla, there is nothing about you that should ever,
ever
change. You are perfectly desirable just the way you are.”

“So what are we going to do?” I ask, realizing all my hopefulness isn’t going to make this situation anything other than what it is.

Will takes a deep breath and says, “We’re going to face him. We don’t have a choice. We’ll be as elusive as possible. Lie if you have to, but know that he’s going to question you without you even knowing it’s happening. Choose your words carefully. Luke and Claire will jump in where they can and I’ll do as much of the talking as I can. I’m here to rescue you, remember.” Will’s smile at the end of his instructions only partially works in relieving my fears.

While I agree to his terms of how to handle our dinner with his father, my mind can’t help but continue to run wild. Maybe if I pretended to be the airy, indifferent girl he prefers he’ll back off and let Will and I be together.
I know that won’t work. I can’t do indifferent, and I’m certain I can’t pull off airy. Then I think that maybe what Mr. Meyer would like is if I lay the adoration of him on thick.
This is crazy!
I tell myself. I decide that my best approach is to trust Will and follow his lead.

I run upstairs to my room and make an attempt at finding something suitable to wear to an interrogation. I don’t have a lot to choose from, so I put on my light blue dress, the one I wore to Gramps’ funeral. It seems appropriate. Claire is dressed in a casual
floral skirt that hits just above her knee and pink top, so I don’t feel out of place.

The four of us stand in the living room, silent for a few long minutes. No one has anything to say. There is no way to know exactly how tonight will go. We just know that we are unified in our front, which is the best thing we have going for us.

“Thank you, Mr. Weston. Your support means a lot to us,” Will says as he shakes Luke’s hand.

“There’s no need for the formalities anymore, Will. You can call me Luke. We’re allies with the same purpose. We both love Layla and will do whatever we have to do to protect her,” Luke says.

We let out a collective sigh and walk out the door.

I ride with Luke and Claire just to be on the safe side. 
When we pull up to the house I see where the inspiration for the Heyward Prep building came from. The Meyer’s home is a small scale of the White House. Tall pillars flank the steps, and the black shutters pop against the bright white exterior. Will opens the front door of his house for us, but before he does, he gives me one long, hopeful look.

We walk into the foyer and I’m speechless. It is just as majestic as I imagined it would be. The floor and stairs are vanilla colored marble, and there are two large pillars of the same material on either side of the doorway. The dual staircase curves around to meet at an adjoining center of the exposed hallway on the second floor.
Champagne floral curtains swag from all the windows. The house oozes elegance.

Will leads us to the back of the house where the formal living room is next to the dining room. The
cherry wood table is set with what I’m certain is fine china and enough forks and spoons to make my head spin. Test number one will surely be seeing if I pick the right fork for my salad. There are wonderful smells coming from the kitchen that make my mouth water. I forget for a moment that the purpose of me being here is not to enjoy a delicious meal, but to be cross-examined by the winningest attorney in the state.

I’m brought back to reality
when Mr. and Mrs. Meyer enter the living room, greeting us with subtle cheers. My body stiffens and I desperately wish I could hold onto Will for stability. Claire is right next to me and steadies me as I side step to maintain my balance.

“Oh, good, you’re here. Welcome! We’re sorry for the short notice, but so glad you could join us,” Will’s mother says in her overly rehearsed speech. “Gregory just
insisted
that we have you for dinner tonight.” She is a beautiful woman. Her dark auburn hair is pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck and I can’t remember if it is long or short. She wears black pants and a silver flowing top. She is stunning, everything her husband requires her to be.

“Don’t crowd them Eliana. Give our guests some room.” Mr. Meyer makes his way to toward us and shakes Luke’s hand in greeting. With that formality over, he addresses me. “Hello, again, Layla. We’re
so happy you could come tonight. We didn’t get a chance to chat at the bar-b-q, but we’re
very
interested in getting to know you.” He smells like leather and cigarettes. I choke a little at the aroma. I hadn’t noticed the pungent odor at the bar-b-q so I’m a little taken off guard. I shake his hand politely, but he holds it longer than necessary, along with the gaze he has on my eyes. I’d say he makes me uncomfortable, but that would be an understatement. He absolutely makes my skin crawl.

He makes me nervous, but I’m not going to show it. I’m not a witness to be cross-examined so I pull myself to a self-assured posture and smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Meyer. Thank you so much for your invitation. I’ve heard so much about you from Will and my aunt and uncle,” I say with as much confidence as I can portray. “I’m
equally as interested in getting to know you, too.” Will shoots me a look like I’m saying too much. I make a mental note to stop trying so hard and hope that I can follow through.

We sit down to dinner, Claire and I on one side, Luke and Will on the other, and Mr. and Mrs. Meyer at the heads. Our hosts make small talk with all of us through the first and second courses, and Luke and Mr. Meyer talk vaguely about a case for a few minutes. I do
my best not to look at Will too many times. I compliment Mrs. Meyer on the menu and ask her all sorts of questions about the meal. While she didn’t prepare the meal herself, she shares that she loves to cook and wishes she could do so more often. She oversees everything in the kitchen, so she keeps her hand in the pot a little.

Dessert is about to be served when Mr. Meyer makes us wait no more for his true intentions to manifest and begins his questioning.

“So, Layla, William says you two have become great friends. Exactly
how
great of friends are you?” Here it is. It’s not the subtle approach we thought it would be. In fact, it’s downright blatant. I’m immediately struck by Mr. Meyer using the exact same phrasing that Marcus used when he cautioned me in my friendship with Will.

“Dad,” Will begins, but he’s cut off quickly by his father.

“Now, William, I’m just asking her a question. You’ve been spending a lot of time at the Weston home. I think I have a right to know what this young lady’s intentions are.” His tone is smooth, but not at all calming the way Will’s is. It’s cunning, creepy, and manipulative. He makes it sound like he’s asking simple questions, but in reality a plan is forming with each question he poses.

“Dad!” Will raises his voice to his father, which gains the man’s attention. It’s clear that Will has never done this before by the look Mr. Meyer give
s him. “Dad,” he says in a more suitable tone. “I already told you that Layla and I are friends. What more is there to know?” Will says in our defense. I’m afraid he’s doing more harm than good by being so passionate in his defense, but since his father has decided on a cannon ball approach, what choice does he have?

“I don’t see the harm in the kids being friends, Greg. Layla’s new here and Will’s done a great job at introducing her to his friends, helping her get settled,” Luke says, working to diffuse the situation and focus on Will’s efforts to get me connected. Luke’s speech is slow, concentrated, and deliberate. He knows exactly how to speak to
the
Gregory Meyer.

“I don’t mind them being friends, Luke,
if
that were all there was to it.” Mr. Meyer locks his gaze on me and I feel a shiver run down my spine. “And that’s exactly what I need to determine.”

“
It’s ok, Will, Uncle Luke. I understand. If I had a son like Will I’d want to make sure that every aspect of his life was on track,” I say calmly and slowly while I try to formulate a plan of what to do next. I only know that my one and only goal is to diffuse Mr. Meyer’s passive-aggressive assault, and make him believe that Will and I are not in love. “Will’s right, Mr. Meyer, we’ve become great friends. When he comes to work at the house he eats lunch with Claire and me so we’ve had a chance to talk a lot. He’s been great to fill me in on the ins and outs of Heyward so I don’t get lost in the shuffle. He introduced me to Chris, Tyler, Gwen and Caroline, so I’ve made some new friends through him. It’s been great getting to know Will and I’ve really enjoyed spending time with him.” I take a slow, deep breath. “Will is really wonderful…” I say, pausing as my mind races through scenarios, none of which seem plausible. Then it hits me. I know what to say. I look at Will and see his eyes get big and his anxiety level rises. “…but I’m actually sort of seeing someone.”

“Really?” Mr. Meyer says skeptically. “Who might the lucky young man be?” He’s not moving an inch from his position or believing me for one second.
Who? He wants to know who? What difference does it make? C’mon, Layla! You can do this!
I scream to myself. Then it hits me. It’s the lesser of two evils but it’s the only thing I can think of.

“He’s actually my trigonometry tutor. I’ve already been meeting with him and…well, we’ve really hit it off.” I smile, saying the last part with a tone to hopefully indicate that there is a spark of romance there.

“That’s too bad for Will, but it sounds like it is good news for this fellow.” Mr. Meyer softens his posture and takes the last swallow of his wine in one gulp. “Does this tutor of yours have a name?”

I see the blood drain from Will’s face as he puts it together. Of all the people I could have named! I look at Will apologetically and hope the next words out of my mouth won’t be the nail in anyone’s coffin. “Yes, sir. His name is Marcus Reynolds.” I wait.

Mr. Meyer is silent and considers our conversation. He motions to the server for more wine before he speaks. “The Reynolds’ are a fine family.
You’ll
fit in perfectly with them.”

That’s it. The judgment has been passed. I’m a “them” and not an “us.” I’ve officially been rejected by association
, not that I would have been accepted in any way. But…he seems to believe me, which means no dodging bribes or worrying about financial ruin for Luke and Claire. Will and I will be able to spend the next several months doing our best to enjoy being together while avoiding being caught.

Mr. Meyer eyes me a few times, but doesn’t say anything else to me during the rest of our meal. He doesn’t even look at Will, but that doesn’t seem strange. He barely let Will speak tonight, which only added to my Things That Make Me Hate Gregory Meyer
list.

Mrs. Meyer tries to engage me in more friendly conversation about my cooking prowess but I’m not very talkative
now. I answer in short, polite sentences. Mr. and Mrs. Meyer walk us to the door after dessert and coffee, and Will walks us out to the car. I’m insanely nervous to hear what Will’s take on the evening is. I think we are all in shock at Mr. Meyer’s approach. It was the complete opposite any of us were expecting.

“Well that was interesting,” Will says. Not exactly the response I was expecting. He’s lost in his thoughts, looking in my direction, but not at me.