I wrapped my hand around the other to keep them from visibly trembling. I didn’t dare anger Reinhold’s already ice thin patience by asking him what the plea actually was. I turned to stare at Pembrook who stood beside me but he didn’t return the glance. I turned Reinhold’s way once more.

“Sophie Price,” he said with finality, making my stomach clench. My eyes closed tightly in preparation. “You are hereby sentenced to six months in Masego.” And with that, Reinhold slammed his gavel home, sending an icy shiver through my body.

I stood standing, mouth agape at the tabletop below me as the remaining people in the room stood when Reinhold exited.

And just like that, it was over.

When the room cleared, I turned to find my parents, but they had already begun to leave. My father barely acknowledged me with a nod. Casey loitered near the swinging doors and I turned his direction wondering what he could possibly want.

He leaned toward me. I could only blink where I stood. “Good luck, princess.”

He left chuckling under his breath.

Pembrook. “Pemmy, what—,” I coughed back the choking sensation that had taken up residence in my throat. “What is ‘Masego’?”

Pembrook sat in his chair and gathered all the seemingly unnecessary paperwork he’d strewn about the table before the short sentencing. He busied his hands and refused to acknowledge me with his eyes. “Masego is an orphanage in Uganda belonging to a very dear friend of mine I’ve had since primary. I expect you to work hard, Sophie. I expect you not to embarrass me. You leave in a week. The physician will be at your parents’ home tomorrow at three in the afternoon to administer the necessary inoculations. Be there, or suffer the court’s wrath. Also, here is a card your father has designated for you to purchase the necessities. Buy sturdy shorts, boots and things of this nature to weather the harsh Ugandan climate.” Finally, he looked up at me and took a deep breath. “I’m risking myself for you, Sophie. I wouldn’t do this for anyone else. You need a hard dose of reality and Charles will be able to deliver that to you.”

“You think to change me, Pemmy?”

“You need to change and soon, or you will be beyond salvaging.”

“Nothing can prevent me from becoming what I already am,” I proclaimed, honest with myself for the very first time.

“True,” he said, setting his leather satchel on the table. “But people can change, my dear, and I know you’re capable of being better than this girl you’ve created for yourself. I never speak ill of your father if it can be helped, for obvious reasons, but you have been treated poorly by him and for some unfathomable reason I feel it my responsibility to fix it.

“I’ve known you since you were small and sweet and innocent, Sophie.” He breathed deeply and palmed the handles of his satchel. “I cannot undo the things you’ve done, but I’ll be damned if your future is as bleak as your past.”

Pembrook kissed my cheek lightly and took a few of the tears I’d unwittingly shed with him. He abandoned me there in that cold room. I was alone.

I didn’t know much more than I had that morning. The only slight additional awareness I owned was that in one week I would be on a plane to Uganda to see an old friend of Pemmy’s and to help out at his orphanage. Such a simple idea with such huge consequences.

I pinched the stupid card my father had left me between my thumb and forefinger, rubbing the new foiled number. I’d always considered them little plastic hugs instead of seeing them for what they truly were. To my father, they were obligations. And if my father did one thing, he always fulfilled his obligations.

CHAPTER FIVE

I dazily walked outside and down the steps, not really knowing where I was going.

“No call,” I heard Spencer tease beside me. “Typical Sophie Price.”

I looked his direction and the joshing smile on his face fell when he read my expression.

“Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad. A few hours of community service, tops.”

“Not quite, Spencer.”

Spencer looked visibly nervous. “What’d you get?”

“Six months in Africa.”

Spencer laughed out loud. “Hilarious, Soph, a jab at my parents. Funny. Now, seriously what’d you get?”

“I’m not kidding. I’ve been sentenced six months working in an orphanage in Uganda.”

Spencer’s face fell, his brows narrowed. “You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m really not. I wish I was.”

Spencer took me by the hand and we sat at a stone bench in front of the courthouse. My back laid flat against the rest and Spencer angled himself toward me, his arm strewn across the top.

“Where?” he asked.

“Uganda.”

He sank back a bit. “I wish I had any idea if that was dangerous or not.”

“Me too,” I stoically added.

“When,” he said, before clearing his throat, “do you leave?”

“Next week.”

“Holy shit, Sophie.”

“I know,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. I opened them and turned toward him.

“Make this week for me, Spence. Make it so damn fun it’ll hold me over for six months.”

“Of course, Sophie.”

The club he’d taken me to was new, so new I’d never been there and that was saying something, but it was packed, sardines packed. I could tell even though we hadn’t even stepped a foot inside. Spencer’s Aston Martin pulled up to the curb outside the door and I could practically feel the stares of the club patrons in line, heavy and full of wonder. The impossibly sexy Spencer casually stepped from his car and handed the keys to the valet. A second valet attempted to open the door for me but Spencer waved him off and came to my side, swinging my door open softly and reaching in for my hand. I heard the cottony sighs of the girls in queue when they saw Spencer and it made me wonder why I couldn’t get into him the way he was into me.

My hand gripped his as he culled me from my seat. My hair blew away from my face and I got a good glimpse of the glinted eyes of admirers for almost half a block. My heel hit pavement and the collective groans from the men in line at the sight of my leg made Spencer wink discretely. He lifted me and closed my door behind me. In the seconds it took to turn, a secret thrill blew through my chest at the envy emanating from their faces, but our expressions would have never conveyed such. No, we were trained from birth to assert disinterest. We were the ultimate snobs and realizing this, that secret thrill quickly dissipated into shame. What is wrong with me?

The doorman opened the door for us and ushered us inside and the people in line didn’t question the move, assuming we were more important than they were and that made me think further into why society accepted such nonsense, but there I was, letting it happen anyway. I was turning into a massive hypocrite and all I wanted was to go back to how I was.

“Can we make out a little, Spencer, and not have it turn into anything?” I asked him, knowing that was such a bitch move but needing a little of my old life to come back in order for me to feel sane again.

“Are you kidding, Sophie Price? I thought you’d never ask.”

“That was diplomatic.”

“I wasn’t being tactful. When Sophie Price asks you for a kiss, you perform. Now, if you need any other, uh, performing, I’d be happy to oblige as well.”

This stopped my heart. “Maybe making out is a horrible idea.”

“No, no, forget everything I just said.” He hurriedly led us to our private table and whipped me toward him. “Dance with me.”

I threw my small bag in the booth in answer, knowing security in VIP would cover it since Spence handed the guy a hundred and I let him pull me toward the floor. I took the lead and wound my way through the crowd with Spencer just behind me and found a spot two people could fit comfortably. Darkness surrounded us other than the dancing lights that touched the top of the crowd but bounced off just as quickly.

The first song was slow and sexy. Spencer laid his hands on me and I let him. They perused my body in appreciation as I used him. We swayed with the erotic tempo and his mouth found mine, answering my earlier question. The warm feel of his tongue soothed away any raw feeling of moral contradiction that had taken residence so obnoxiously in my heart. I groaned in response and his arms found my rib cage, encircling me tightly before giving me a slight squeeze and lifting me slightly from the floor.

I kissed Spencer like my life depended on it. I hoped every exhale into his mouth shed a little of my newly found struggles.

“Hold me tighter,” I whispered against his teeth. He clutched me closer, yet not tight enough. “More,” I demanded.

Spencer drew me firmer against him and I felt every ridge of his body. “Is that close enough?” he laughed into my throat.

“Perfect,” I told him. I didn’t feel as alone anymore.

Spencer kissed me again but softer, as if he knew I needed that. He read my body well, giving when I drew back, drawing back when I gave. All I could think was he was going to make some girl very happy one day. He ran his hands through my long curls, gripping my waist just above the hip before enfolding me against him once again.

And just as suddenly, the very heated kiss turned lighter, tapering off into a desperate embrace. I felt it in that moment as did he. It was glaringly obvious to us standing there in the middle of the crowded dance floor. I needed to be needed by him and he needed to be needed by me. We clung to one another, not sure exactly what it was we required from one another but acknowledging it all the same.

When the song ended and a more upbeat tune replaced it, Spencer pulled away.

“Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” he told me.

We went back to my house but parked his car in the employee lot just in case my father was on the lookout, though I doubt he was. My room had been serviced since I’d left it last so I tossed the covers back and tumbled inside, whipping my clothes off under the covers. Spencer tossed his jeans on the chair in the corner along with his shirt, tucking himself with me in only his boxers.

We held each other the entire night, no words spoken but the still, silent night uttered so much.

“Miss Price?” A voice woke me. “Miss Price?” the voice asked louder.

My eyes barely opened and I took in my position, sprawled over a softly snoring Spencer. Brilliant.

I turned over and peered into the eyes of Dr. Ford and his nurse Cassandra. Just splendid, I thought. He was going to report this little incident to my father. I could see it in his face.

Cassandra was too distracted by the exposed chest of Spencer to give me her usual eye roll.

“Good morning, Dr. Ford.”

“Afternoon,” he corrected me.

I glanced at the clock and saw it was indeed three in the afternoon.

“You’re right on time,” I sarcastically spat at him.

“Miss Price,” he began, ignoring me, “would you prefer it if Cassandra and I left the room for you to dress?”

“Not necessary,” I told him.

Spencer woke and stretched beside me, causing Cassandra’s eyes to bulge from her round face.