Read Online Return (Coming Home #1) by Meli Raine - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Meli Raine
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my ears. I’ve shed enough blood today. Don’t need any more, especially at her hands.
“You got the job? You ?” She snorts and unfurls herhand. Fingers reach up and she tucks a long strand of onyx hair behind one perfect ear. Claudia is beautiful. Stunning. Model perfect, with flawless porcelain skin. Wide chocolate-brown eyes, broad, high cheekbones . Full lips.
And a personality as ugly as the outside is gorgeous.
“Carrie Myerson ,” she says, circling me like I’m a piece of meat. Her eyes take in my skinned knee, my messy hair,and suddenly my stoma c h goes cold. All the promises I made myself seconds ago fade.
It won’t be okay. Nothi n g will be okay here. Professor—no, Dean Landau will be hard enough to work for.
I’d forgotten about Claudia.
“You look like a piece of shit that’s been dragged around attached to the ass hair of a cat,” she murmurs. Her voice is like an icicle. Cold, and with a point that pierces.
Eloquent.She always did have a flair for the dramatic. In middle school, she tormented me. Talked a friend into stealing my clothes once while we were in gym class . I had to wear my gym uniform the rest of the day. That’s social suicide when you’re in seventh grade.
Then in eighth grade, she got jealous when I won the choir competition. I had t he only solo in the spring concert. Somehow, she spread rumorsthat I spread rumors that the football team captain had gotten the head cheerleader pregnant. And they aborted the baby. You can’t prove that you didn’t spread rumors.
C onvenient, huh? I was shunned. Booed at the concert. Mrs. B yers, the choir director, tried to control it, but you can’t stop the contagion of a queen bee on the warpath .
After that , she’d just been a royal bitch to me and anyoneshe didn’t suck up to for popularity points. Some new, shiny object caught her attention. Her drama followed.
I see college hasn’t matured her at all.
“Nice,” she says, waving her hand dismissively, “suit. If you can call it that. The tear up the back is a great touch.” Sarcasm drips from her words like venom.
Please tell me she doesn’t work here.
A new wave of cold takes over. I fight notto shiver. No way could she be my boss, right? I was told I report directly to the dean.
But if they created some job between us...
The doorway between the little reception room and the dean’s actual, private office fills with a strong, wide man with grey hair and stylish glasses. He’s looking down at a stack of papers and bumps into Claudia, who sneers at him. She yelps.
“Papa! You almostmade me break a heel!”
“I barely brushed against you,” Dean Landau sa ys . His voice is neutral. Controlled.
He’s used to dealing with her. I feel a pang of sympathy. Raising a daughter like The Claw must take a lot out of you.
The sympathy fades when he looks u p and sees me. Dark brown eyes catch mine. T here’s an intelligence there. It’s scanning me. He’s like a robot programmed to evaluate.
Then he smiles, and he’s charming. Really warm and welcoming, as he reaches his hand out and pumps mine hard.
“Carrie! So glad you’re here.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was a nice guy. Like Brian. Or my dad. Or M ark—
Oh. Wait. Nice guys don’t arrest your dad and testify against them.
A nd they definitely don’t set your dad up for federal drug charges.
“I’m so pleased to work withyou,” the dean adds. I see. This is the game.
We pretend nothing ever happened. Before.
Before.
I can play, too. If life handed out degrees, mine would be a Bachelor’s degree in Pretending Nothing Happened.
Maybe a master’s degree .
Make it a Ph.D.
“Dean Landau,” I say, matching his grip. It’s strong, his skin impossibly smooth for a man. My dad and Brian have rough hands, the kind of palmsa man gets from twi st ing wrenches, holding roofing nail guns for hours, laying pipe.
Dean Landau uses his mind to earn his living,
“You got the job? You ?” She snorts and unfurls herhand. Fingers reach up and she tucks a long strand of onyx hair behind one perfect ear. Claudia is beautiful. Stunning. Model perfect, with flawless porcelain skin. Wide chocolate-brown eyes, broad, high cheekbones . Full lips.
And a personality as ugly as the outside is gorgeous.
“Carrie Myerson ,” she says, circling me like I’m a piece of meat. Her eyes take in my skinned knee, my messy hair,and suddenly my stoma c h goes cold. All the promises I made myself seconds ago fade.
It won’t be okay. Nothi n g will be okay here. Professor—no, Dean Landau will be hard enough to work for.
I’d forgotten about Claudia.
“You look like a piece of shit that’s been dragged around attached to the ass hair of a cat,” she murmurs. Her voice is like an icicle. Cold, and with a point that pierces.
Eloquent.She always did have a flair for the dramatic. In middle school, she tormented me. Talked a friend into stealing my clothes once while we were in gym class . I had to wear my gym uniform the rest of the day. That’s social suicide when you’re in seventh grade.
Then in eighth grade, she got jealous when I won the choir competition. I had t he only solo in the spring concert. Somehow, she spread rumorsthat I spread rumors that the football team captain had gotten the head cheerleader pregnant. And they aborted the baby. You can’t prove that you didn’t spread rumors.
C onvenient, huh? I was shunned. Booed at the concert. Mrs. B yers, the choir director, tried to control it, but you can’t stop the contagion of a queen bee on the warpath .
After that , she’d just been a royal bitch to me and anyoneshe didn’t suck up to for popularity points. Some new, shiny object caught her attention. Her drama followed.
I see college hasn’t matured her at all.
“Nice,” she says, waving her hand dismissively, “suit. If you can call it that. The tear up the back is a great touch.” Sarcasm drips from her words like venom.
Please tell me she doesn’t work here.
A new wave of cold takes over. I fight notto shiver. No way could she be my boss, right? I was told I report directly to the dean.
But if they created some job between us...
The doorway between the little reception room and the dean’s actual, private office fills with a strong, wide man with grey hair and stylish glasses. He’s looking down at a stack of papers and bumps into Claudia, who sneers at him. She yelps.
“Papa! You almostmade me break a heel!”
“I barely brushed against you,” Dean Landau sa ys . His voice is neutral. Controlled.
He’s used to dealing with her. I feel a pang of sympathy. Raising a daughter like The Claw must take a lot out of you.
The sympathy fades when he looks u p and sees me. Dark brown eyes catch mine. T here’s an intelligence there. It’s scanning me. He’s like a robot programmed to evaluate.
Then he smiles, and he’s charming. Really warm and welcoming, as he reaches his hand out and pumps mine hard.
“Carrie! So glad you’re here.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was a nice guy. Like Brian. Or my dad. Or M ark—
Oh. Wait. Nice guys don’t arrest your dad and testify against them.
A nd they definitely don’t set your dad up for federal drug charges.
“I’m so pleased to work withyou,” the dean adds. I see. This is the game.
We pretend nothing ever happened. Before.
Before.
I can play, too. If life handed out degrees, mine would be a Bachelor’s degree in Pretending Nothing Happened.
Maybe a master’s degree .
Make it a Ph.D.
“Dean Landau,” I say, matching his grip. It’s strong, his skin impossibly smooth for a man. My dad and Brian have rough hands, the kind of palmsa man gets from twi st ing wrenches, holding roofing nail guns for hours, laying pipe.
Dean Landau uses his mind to earn his living,
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