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She realized then that the only way to end this conversation was to find out exactly who hired Pete. As much as she wanted to push this issue off, at least for the rest of the year, she realized she couldn’t.
Not anymore.
She blew out a breath. “I need a minute.”
“You could give Edward Eolenfeld a call and ask him.”
Out of spite, she almost did so then, right in front of Zane. But a soft, disquieting nudge within her stopped her.
Mr. E deserved better than that. She wasn’t going to call him on Christmas morning and question him about possibly having a private investigator monitor her. “Even if I did, would you believe him?”
Zane fell silent again.
“I’m not in the mood to cook,” she said to Seth. “Could you order something for breakfast? Thanks.”
Seth reached for her hand, but she moved it away and slipped out of the kitchen. She hadn’t wanted to do that, but she really didn’t want to linger another second and carry on this pointless conversation.
Once Clary was back in her room, she grabbed the phone she’d left on the bed.
She’d meant to give Grandma Moretti and Mr. E a call to wish them a blessed Christmas. She’d already texted them last night, but she wanted to call and check in with them.
She couldn’t do it now. They’d be bound to hear something in her voice, and she didn’t need to give Grandma Moretti any more reason to worry about her relationship with Seth.
Sprawling out on her bed, Clary blew out a breath and ran her hand through her hair.
Though she was in a mansion with more than enough space, though she was in her own spacious room right now, she couldn’t help but feel the need to escape elsewhere. Right now, she seriously wished she’d agreed to go to Thailand with Grandma Moretti and Mr. E.
Licking her lips, Clary scanned the room.
It was probably half the size of her New York apartment, but at this moment, it was too small.
Clary got out of bed.
With her phone in one hand and her jacket in the other, she headed out of her room and back downstairs. Oliver was still playing the game she bought him. She’d agonized over the decision. Playing a zombie game couldn’t possibly be good for someone who didn’t sleep well. She never could sleep well after watching a horror movie, but Seth had mentioned in passing that Oliver loved those games.
And according to the website, it was the most popular game available.
“Die!” Oliver yelled, probably a tad more aggressively than necessary. “You disgusting thing.”
Clary’s lips curled. She was glad Oliver was enjoying it, and perhaps she should try it too. It would be cathartic to be able to kill something right now.
Seth and Zane were on opposite ends of the couch. They were both looking at their phones, and neither said a word when she came down. She could sense their stares, but she refused to look at either of them.
Oliver was amusing enough to watch, and …
Oh, whatever. She just didn’t feel like looking at them.
She didn’t feel like speaking to anyone either, but she didn’t need Seth following her out. “I’m just going to get some fresh air—alone.”
When she got to the kitchen, she grabbed her mug, took a key from one of the kitchen drawers, and continued out back. As she closed the French doors behind her, she drew in a deep breath of the cool December air, relieved to be out of the house.
Pulling on her jacket, she turned and headed toward the side of the house, toward the small door that led to the underground wine cellar.
Clary locked that door behind her.
She fumbled around the wall for a moment to find the switch before moving down the narrow stone steps. The stairs opened up to a spacious room that was slightly warmer than the outside breeze.
Though she’d never been down here before, all of Mr. E’s wine cellars had temperature control, and she could hear the low, dull whir of the control system running.
