Page 25 of Breadwinner
“You know,” Sarah said dryly, falling into step beside her, “for someone who promised no more private jets, a helicopter feels like a bold interpretation.”
Nell laughed low in her throat before guiding Sarah toward the car waiting off the helipad. “Technically, you flew commercial to JFK. I upheld my end of the agreement.”
Sarah shot her a look, but there was amusement in her eyes, that little spark Nell enjoyed coaxing out of her.
Today, Nell had dressed for comfort, in dark jeans, a crisp, white button-down rolled to her forearms, and a pair of clean white sneakers. Casual but still refined, perfectly setting her desired tone for the weekend. Out of the corner of her eye, she took in Sarah and was pleased to see that she had followed the guidelines Rowan sent over—exactly as Nell knew she would.
Without a word, she moved ahead, lifting Sarah’s carry-on suitcase into the trunk of the racing-green Aston Martin DB12 before Sarah could protest. She reveled in the way the small act—so mundane; almost absurd given the army of people Nell usually had at her disposal—caught Sarah off guard. She loved seeing the flutter of Sarah’s jaw and the way she shifted on her feet like she wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Good, she thought, and smiled to herself. She liked keeping Sarah on her toes. She was already having so much fun.
Nell circled to the passenger side and opened the door for Sarah, who paused, arching a brow in silent amusement.
Nell smirked. “After you.”
Sarah laughed as she slid gracefully into the seat. “Nell Stanhope, a gentlewoman.”
Nell’s smile grew as she gently closed the passenger door before slipping her sunglasses on, circling the car, and sliding into the driver’s seat.
The drive from the heliport to her house was short, but Nell did her best to stretch it out as they drove with thewindows down, letting in the warm afternoon air as they rode in a comfortable silence that, to her surprise, Sarah didn’t try to fill. They let it sit between them, dense and charged, as the countryside of the Hamptons rolled past.
The low purr of the Aston Martin’s engine thrummed beneath them, even as she pulled to a standstill.
Sarah glanced sideways at her, one brow raised, a knowing smirk curving her mouth.
“I’m not surprised,” she said, dragging her gaze over the immaculate dash, the gleaming chrome details. “You having an affinity for sports cars makes perfect sense to me.”
“And here I thought I had some element of mystery,” Nell said, eyes on the winding road ahead of them.
She eased the car into a tighter turn than necessary simply to feel the way it gripped the road, and to see if Sarah would react. She did. Nell caught the way she braced herself with her hand against the door and her short intake of breath, half laugh, half surprise. She tucked that reaction away.
“I’ve always loved fast cars, ever since I was a kid,” Nell commented offhandedly. “My brothers used to drive them. They were idiots with terrible instincts—no expertise whatsoever.” She shifted gears with an effortless flick of her wrist, easing off the clutch and gently pushing the gas pedal. “It fascinated me how they could have something so powerful under their control and be so... wasteful.”
Sarah tilted her head, studying her. “And you, of course, would never waste power.”
Nell smiled. “Not willingly.”
They pulled up to a set of discreet iron gates with no keypad or guards visible—only a clean, quiet sensor that recognized her car and swung the gates open without a sound.
Sarah made a soft, approving noise in the back of her throat. Nell’s smile deepened as she guided them down a narrow tree-lined drive. Sarah glanced at the house as it came into view: a sprawling, gray-shingled estate set against the backdrop of the bay.
Though she said nothing, Nell caught the subtle change in Sarah’s posture—the way she sat a little straighter, impressed despite herself. Nell pulled up directly in front of the front door and killed the engine, turning to face Sarah properly for the first time since they’d left the hangar.
For a moment, she looked at her.
The way the last of the afternoon light caught in Sarah’s hair. The way the steady rise and fall of her chest made the faint gold chain necklace around her neck catch the light perfectly. She was gorgeous.
“Come,” Nell said simply, in response to Sarah’s questioning gaze.
She stepped out of the car, and Sarah followed, her head tilting slightly, taking everything in.
The front of the house wasn’t overly ostentatious. That wasn’t Nell’s style. But still, it commanded attention, with its perfectly weathered cedar shingles, bright white trim, and impeccable landscaping that greeted them as they stepped onto the arched front porch. Nell keyed in the code to the door before stepping aside so Sarah could enter first.
She watched deliberately as Sarah crossed the threshold. Watched how she rolled her shoulders back, straightening herself, bracing herself for whatever world she’d just stepped into. And, for the briefest moment, she looked almost unsure. Almost vulnerable.
It hit Nell in a way she hadn’t expected because there was something almost painful in its purity.
Without thinking, she moved past Sarah, brushing close enough for the barest contact of their arms as she set her keys down in the tray by the door.