Page 32 of Breadwinner
She said it so simply, so calmly, like it was nothing.
“Oh. I—I didn’t mean to bring?—”
Nell raised a quiet hand, and she stopped speaking.
“Large sums of money make people do terrible things, my brother included. He gains a lot more of the Stanhope fortune when he only has to split it three ways rather than four. Mysexuality made me an easy target. My parents disapproved of my ‘lifestyle’ and how it could negatively impact the family reputation.” She shrugged one shoulder dismissively, though Sarah sensed the lingering wound underneath. “So they cut me off. I transferred to NYU and worked three jobs while finishing my degree, and worked my ass off for all of this...” Nell gestured loosely around them to the sprawling deck, the endless water views. “I’m lucky to have been able to do it all in the way I prefer—on my terms.”
Sarah was about to respond when Nell leaned closer, her voice dropping. “But that’s not really what you want to discuss, right?”
Sarah blinked. “What do you mean?”
Her eyes danced as they sparkled in the late morning sun. “You’re still wound up from last night.”
She opened her mouth to deny it, but Nell gave her a look that pinned her right where she sat.
“It’s written all over you,” Nell purred. “You’re so easy to read.” Sarah swallowed hard, her throat dry. “Tell me.” Nell’s command was kind but insistent.
Sarah nodded once—a small, helpless gesture that caused Nell to make a pleased, almost indulgent sound low in her throat.
“Good.” Nell leaned back again, giving her space. “I’ve cleared my whole day for you. That can mean a lot of different things,” she said, the promise underneath her wolfish smile unmistakable.
The sailboat surprised her. Okay, maybe it didn’t. A wealthy woman from New England into sailing? That wasn’t anythingnew. But instead of the shiny, multi-million-dollar boat one might expect a billionaire to own, Nell’s boat was small, only comfortably big enough for two, with crisp white sails. Faded navy paint and the wordBreadwinnerin peeling gold letters adorned the side.
It was unassuming, almost charming in its simplicity. Sarah had expected business-mogul, power-player Nell. She hadn’t expectedthisNell: the one who laughed into the wind, hair wild around her sunglasses, tan lines barely visible against the straps of her bikini as she guided the small boat like it were an extension of her body.
Sarah had never felt so far away from the world as she did on the water, the wind whipping around them as they spent hours circling the bay in unhurried, deliberate arcs, sometimes talking, sometimes not.
Being around Nell was easier than she had expected it to be. Her humor was sharp and dry, just like her own. Sarah had expected to have to be on this whole weekend, but that didn’t seem to be what Nell wanted from her. Instead, they enjoyed each other’s company like old friends catching up, even though they were still basically strangers.
Once they were back on dry land, both still damp from a quick swim, the sunlight warming their bare shoulders, Emory served them lunch poolside. Nell lounged in her chair, with her legs stretched out and a financial report balanced on one thigh, sunglasses hiding her expression as she highlighted something in the margins. Sarah was looking at her phone, pretending to work yet getting nothing accomplished. How could she when Nell was sitting three feet away from her, looking like a goddess in the sun? Sarah excused herself to step away for a quick call with Lily, and that’s when she saw it.
Beth 2:46 PM
Coffee tomorrow at 9? A walk after? It’s been so long since we’ve done something just the two of us. I want to catch up and hear about your mysterious trip to DC the other week.
Sarah knew it was nothing more than a casual invitation. She and Beth were friends. They had always been friends, even after all the complications of their marriage. Except, if it was casual, why did she suddenly feel sick?
She hadn’t told Beth she was traveling for the weekend. Beth didn’t need to know the details of her life in that way anymore.She’s with someone else, Sarah reminded herself.You owe her nothing.And definitely not an explanation of whatever this weekend, this arrangement, thisthingwith Nell was. It had been easier not to say anything at all.
She stared at the message, ready to type out a response, but something stopped her. Instead of responding, she locked her phone without replying. What she was doing here had nothing to do with Beth. She was here for herself and herself only.
You’re not doing anything wrong, Sarah reminded herself. She knew that. But still, something about being here, in Nell’s world, felt like she was breaking a rule that had controlled her life for so many years. But it needed to be broken. She didn’t need to answer Beth right now. That box—like so many before it—could stay closed. Just for today.
When Sarah returned, Nell hadn’t moved from her seat. She sat on the lounge chair opposite Nell and leaned back, tilting her face toward the sun. “What’s next on our agenda?” Sarah asked, holding her breath, waiting for Nell’s answer.
Nell looked at her over the rim of her designer sunglasses. Sarah felt the heat radiating between them—the way Nell’s gazewrapped around her like a velvet rope, pulling tighter with every breath.
“What do you want to do next?”
A question. Sarah was usually the one with the questions.
“I don’t know.” Her voice was small and unsure, making Nell sit up straighter, and she couldn’t help how her eyes traced down her torso, over every swell and curve.
“You do know,” Nell said. “You’re just afraid to say it.”
Sarah bit her lip and looked out at the water. The tide had gone out, revealing high, marshy grasses that swayed gently in the breeze, a calm that didn’t extend to the frantic pounding in her chest.
Sarah knew she could say no. Nell was always clear about that. She could pretend she didn’t still feel worked up from how Nell had left her last night—trembling, desperate, and aching for a release that never came.