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A moment later, I realize where I just slipped up. “Uh... It’s helping pay for this place, combined with all the money I saved?”
Hawk stares at me, not believing much of what I’m saying.
I’m starting to panic a bit. I don’t like lying. I’ve never liked lying. But I’m worried that if I confess to Hawk that I’m a rich little princess, everything between us will change. I feel like he won’t take me seriously anymore, or worse... it will change how he feels about me.
The truth will come out. It always does. How long can I pretend to be something I’m not?
“Forget I asked,” he says, as he spots the pain in my eyes. “How’s the French toast coming along?”
I tremble, and just try to ignore my secret shame.
It will come out. But at least Hawk isn't trying to force it out of me.
The rest of the preparation goes off without any more awkward questions. Soon, Hawk and I are eating breakfast across from one another, like the half-dozen times we’ve done this before.
“Wow. Did you come up with this recipe yourself?” he asks after wolfing down the meal, sausages and toast equally.
I’m barely even halfway done. I hesitate to answer his question, knowing the truth will bring more explaining than I’m willing to do right now. “A friend gave it to me. I really appreciate it because I make it, like, once per week. At least.”
“You got some talent, though. There’s more to cooking than just following the directions directly. You need to know how to work things right.”
I nod. “I know. It’s why I’m working for Hannah. I’m hoping to learn all sorts of practical baking advice from her.”
“Don’t bakers have a school? With credentials and such? Shouldn’t you go there first?”
I start to chew my food very seriously and slowly as I think of what to say next. “Oh, well, um, I’m looking into that. You gotta apply, and then there’s the tuition.”
Yes, the tuition I clearly can’t afford as I sit in my luxurious, rented chalet and drive my Lamborghini.
Then my top-of-the-line, thousand-dollar cell phone rings. I see who’s calling, and I’m in no rush to pick it up.
“Are... are you going to answer it, or just stare at it?” Hawk says, concerned.
“I... I guess I should.”
I grab it off the table and head into a nearby room away from Hawk.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, dreading the conversation about to occur.
“Lavender, sweetie, are you at your chalet in the mountains right now?” The background noise suggests she’s on speaker phone in her car.
“Um, yes? Why, what’s up?”
“Your father and I are coming to stay with you. We decided we liked your idea of staying in the mountains for the summer. It is much cooler there, is it not?”
I freeze up, more tensely than when I fear Hawk has caught me in a lie. “You can’t come here. You can’t.”
“Why? Is there something wrong, Lavender?”
“No … it’s just I am enjoying my time alone.”
“And don’t’ you want to spend time with your parents? We paid for it, and there is plenty of space there. It was advertised as enough space for ten people.”
“It’s... um... not presentable?”
“How can it not be? We gave you a stipend to hire maid service, Lavender. Are you saying that you failed to do that? How are you even living there without the help?”
I didn’t hire a maid. Because it’s just me and I believed myself capable of cleaning up after just me. “Um, uh, it’s not that. It’s just, uh...”
