Page 15 of Breadwinner
Was she insane, delusional, or maybe both?
But still, she couldn’t help her intrigue. She could practically see Nell’s face—that sharp, knowing smirk, the pleased glint in her steely-gray eyes, the sheer satisfaction at Sarah’s inevitable confusion.
“Sorry. I’ve just never seen a friend make you smile like this.” Beth hummed as she leaned against the counter. “She must have said something good to get that smile. That one took me forever to pull out of you.”
There it was again, that twisting pain hidden in exactly how well Beth knew her—the deep knowing that was slowly killing Sarah. Maybe a trip to DC was exactly what she needed to distract herself from the pain. If Nell was footing the bill, then sure. She could fly across the country on a billionaire’s whim. What else did she have going on anyway?
FOUR
NELL
Nell’s house hummed with its usual productive energy. In her world, there was always something happening—some deal or acquisition, some business to attend to—even in the quiet hours after midnight.
She had always found solace in the quiet. It was in this silence that she did her best thinking. She had always had a mind she had never entirely been able to turn off.
Her office was lit by a single brass desk lamp illuminating the spread of meticulously organized paperwork sitting before her. A glass of whiskey sat untouched to her right, her Cartier watch rested beside it.
Mortimer was sleeping, curled in a pike position on the corner of her desk, his snores keeping her company.
It was almost 1 a.m., and Rowan had left hours ago.
“You need sleep, too,” Rowan had pointed out in that matter-of-fact way of hers.
“Idle time is a liability,” Nell had replied, already flipping to the following document. “You’ll be more useful to me tomorrow if you’re rested. Go home.”
And, as always, Rowan had obeyed—not because she had to, but because she trusted Nell’s word was final.
Now, Nell sat alone, reviewing contracts and financial projections for a new business opportunity she was exploring.
The work was never finished, and she liked it that way. There was always something to do.
Nell reached for her phone, scrolling to her response to Sarah’s discovery of the meaning behind her puzzle. She savored the brief thrill of satisfaction as she reread their text exchange, her lips curling into a gradual, excited smile. She had been right about Sarah—she was fun.
Nell wasn’t usually the type of woman who answered late-night texts. She was the woman who let others wait.She dictated the pace, no one else.
But Sarah? Sarah was the exception. Sarah made her want to answer right away. A few clicks on her computer, and her return text had been sent almost immediately, complete with a travel itinerary informing Sarah that she would be meeting her in DC the following evening.
The Prescott House wasn't a hotel in the way people typically thought of them—it was for the invited and the elite. A twelve-room mansion tucked away discreetly in the heart of Georgetown, Washington, DC—an establishment where power came to be unbothered. The kind of place where the concierge knew your preference for everything without ever needing to ask, and the walls had absorbed more secrets than they could ever tell.
Nell stood in the lobby, a sanctuary of dark wood paneling, the fireplace casting a quiet glow across her profile. She had given explicit instructions—Sarah Gallagher would arrive exactly two minutes after her.
Not a second early. Not a second late. Exactly as she planned.
In an ideal world, Nell had intended to pick Sarah up directly from the airport hangar, but her meeting with Senator Fairchild had run over. So Nell had sent her car and instructions for Sarah to be brought here to The Prescott to freshen up.
Nell rechecked her watch. Sarah should be joining her in three, two, one.
Perfect.
She felt the weight of Sarah’s presence before she heard the click of heels on the marble floor, and as Nell turned,there she was.
Tall, poised, dressed like a woman who knew exactly how much attention she could command but who chose discretion instead.
Nell swallowed hard as she took Sarah in, the midnight blue slip dress creating a sleek and effortless look. And that slit up the side? It was damn near criminal the way it hinted at just enough without offering too much. A tailored blazer was thrown over her shoulders, structured but relaxed, an afterthought that was anything but. Delicate gold accents adorned her ears, wrist, and neck. Nell noted the last with particular interest as she traced the line of the thin chain disappearing beneath the neckline of Sarah’s dress.
Her sleek, light brown hair was tucked neatly behind one ear, revealing the angles of her jaw. And when she smiled, it was the unmistakable confidence of a woman who did not hesitate that drew Nell in.
But it was her eyes—hazel, astute, continually assessing—that made Nell’s mouth twitch in approval.