The Sisters Grimm by Menna Van Praag

Author:Menna Van Praag
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2020-03-30T00:00:00+00:00

9:14 p.m.—Scarlet

Why Scarlet goes to see Eli that night, she can’t explain. Rationally, she thought it best to deal with the confrontation quickly. It’s only when she’s knocking on the door of his hotel room that she realizes this might have been a mistake. She should have arranged to meet on neutral ground. At a café, a library, a church. Anywhere but in a bedroom.

“Why, Miss Thorne,” Eli says, as he opens the door. “What a great surprise and an even greater pleasure. Do come in.”

Scarlet doesn’t. “Are you alone?” she asks, trying to maintain a modicum of formality. “I’d like—I need to discuss the contract.”

“Please, come in.” Somehow he manages to look innocent and guilty, surprised and smug, all at once. “Don’t be shy.” He opens the door, stepping aside.

The room is smaller than Scarlet imagined, having imagined it more often than perhaps she should have. It’s tiny. She’s almost forced to sit on the bed, to avoid standing too close to him, but thinks better of it.

“May I get you a drink?” Eli gestures towards the minibar. “Water? Wine? Whisky?”

Scarlet shakes her head. No alcohol. Absolutely not.

“Water is fine, thank you,” she says, then remembers she’s here to renege on their deal. “Actually, I’m not thirsty.”

Eli shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He opens the minibar and removes a half-empty bottle of red wine. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

“Well, all right then.” Eli pours himself a deep glass, then sits at the edge of the bed, lounging back. He catches Scarlet’s eye and grins a wicked grin. She studies the mediocre painting on the wall above his head—two horses frolicking in a meadow—fixing it with far more attention than it deserves.

“So,” Eli says. “What brings you to my bedroom at this time of night?”

Scarlet assumes an affronted scowl. “I didn’t come to your bedroom. I came to your hotel room, because I didn’t know where else to find you.”

“Suit yourself.” Eli Wolfe gives a nonchalant shrug. “So, how may I service you?” He coughs. “Sorry, that’s to say: How may I be of service?”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what.” Scarlet focuses on the painting. “Anyway, you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

Eli sits up, sporting a mock-serious expression. “Oh?”

“Well . . .”

“Out with it. Don’t be a tease.”

Scarlet shifts from foot to foot. “Okay, so I know this is bad practice and all that, but . . .”

Eli rubs the wineglass between his palms. “Oh, get on with it, would you? I’ll be asleep before you’ve finished. Not my preferred choice of activity on a Friday night.”

“All right.” Scarlet steadies herself. “I’m afraid I . . . I’m going to have to withdraw my, um, agreement to our . . . agreement.”

“Ah.” He sips his wine. “So you’ve come to tell me you want to welch on our deal?”

“I, um, yes, I am. And I know—”

“Well, I am sorry to hear that.”

Scarlet frowns. “You don’t look sorry.”

He shrugs. “What can I say? I enjoy our negotiations.

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