Page 23

Putting aside my current situation, Huxley was right. I’m hungry and need a shower to feel more human again.
I examine the cart and lift the lids one by one, groaning at the sight and smell. Poached eggs, crispy bacon, avocado toast, and a bowl of yogurt with fresh fruit and drizzled honey on top. My gaze snatches on the small package of painkillers, and I instantly grab it, silently sending a thank you to whoever took pity on me. I rip it open, toss the two pills into my mouth, and gulp them down with some orange juice. After taking a bite out of the avocado toast, I cover the food again.
Shower first, then more food.
I stride down the hallway into the bathroom, taking in the modern aesthetic with its warm, neutral colors that give it an almost cozy feel. Wood, brass, and glass are all well-balanced with sharp, clean lines, uncluttered counter spaces, and geometric shapes.
The large walk-in shower greets me with the perfectly tuned water temperature, the six jet sprays and wide rainfallshowerhead effectively lifting my mood while I try to scrub away the events from the past few days. Unfortunately, without much success. But at least I’ve gotten rid of the yucky layer of repulsion that only a hangover can cause.
The closet brings me to an immediate halt since it’s entirely filled. Clothes, shoes, stacks of unopened boxes. Brand names. Famous designers. A mix of business and casual attire. Whose closet is this because these are definitely not my clothes. Nothing in this room belongs to me. I inspect the racks and pause. Everything is in my size, even the underwear in the drawers. When Huxley said he took the liberty to stock everything for me, was he talking about my entire wardrobe as well?
Deep breath. That’s the least of your problems right now.
I mumble some choice words for Phoenix and pick some simple cotton panties alongside a pair of jeans and a sweater I find toward the back.
Returning to the bathroom, I give myself a once-over in the mirror.
Ouch.
There’s a reason I usually don’t drink a lot.
I look like I’ve been doing drugs for a week straight.
Thankfully, Huxley was right, and a quick glance into the drawers reveals everything I need.
I apply some lotion and light makeup, but not until I smother my dark circles with several levels of concealer. After a round with the hair dryer, I stop. This will have to be enough to blend in with the college crowd. At school, I’m only Evie, nothing more and nothing less, at least not to most of the students. So hopefully, it’ll do.
Feeling marginally better than when I firstwoke up, I’m ready to devour as much delicious-smelling food as possible before heading out.
I make my way back into the bedroom, my footsteps quiet on the plush carpet.
The moment the table comes into view, I stop and stare at it with wide eyes. It’s no longer unoccupied.
Phoenix is lounging in one of the chairs like the king personified.
Well, I guess heisthe king of this castle.
Does that make me his queen now?
A groan works up my throat at my random thoughts, but Phoenix only raises a brow.
He leans forward and pulls out the chair next to him. “Sit.”
I ignore him and sit in the chair next to the one he offered me, successfully putting as much distance between us as possible.
Feeling his gaze on me, I stare at him and sigh. “What do you want, Phoenix? I’d like to enjoy the food, so say what you came here to say and leave.”
“Why so prickly this morning, Angie?”
No one has called me that in three years, and the nickname sends an ice-cold chill down my spine. “Stop calling me that.”
“Why? I think I rather like it.” He leans back and puts his right arm on the back of the one I ignored.
Even though my head feels a lot better, I still have no energy to deal with this crap. I refuse to. I need at least three days of good sleep and my life to give me a momentary break from all this bullshit to digest this new episode ofMy Fucked-Up LifeI suddenly stumbled into. Or rather, was forced into.
My stomach rumbles loudly, so I turn my eyes to the food now laid out on the table and begin adding things to my plate.
Just when I think the universe might give me two minutes of quiet to eat, Phoenix clears his throat.