Prep School Experiment (13 page)

Mr. Brentwood said, “We’ll have security there too. I’d never take a chance with the kids. This isn’t an effort to draw that loon scientist out. But I won’t lie to you, having the kids together could make that happen.”

Mom started to shake her head again and Rhys’ Grandmother said, “And of course you and Dr. Hildebrandt would come, too, as our guests.”

The invitation from one of New York’s most coveted hostesses, along with the assurance that this would be a full family affair, was enough. Mom nodded.

“Wonderful,” Rhys’ Grandmother said. “There’ll be a dinner on Monday night for all the supporters and some press. Then, Tuesday, as everyone hits the polls and the results roll in, we’ll be in the Grand Ballroom.”

“The Trallwyn Oaks Hotel,” Michelle Wentworth put in.

“Thanks,” Dad said. “We’ll arrange with the hospital to take off, at least for Monday and Tuesday.”

If the invitation hadn’t come from the Brentwoods, there was no way her parents would have gone to the trouble of getting off work.

“Perfect,” Rhys’ Grandmother said, “I’ll have my secretary send over the details.”

A rush of happiness filled her. It was like she had a date with Rhys in November. And as a bonus, she might even get to see her friends.

The server dished curried lamb onto her plate along with falafel. “There’s also Geneva,” Kaitlin reminded them, referring to her former roommate. “She was sent home to Seattle after she got injured. But, she ate the cupcakes I baked too. Maybe you can check in on her?”

The senator nodded.

The senior Mr. Wentworth rubbed his big hands together. “This will give me time to force a run on Capable Tech stock. Their CEO will tell us what we want, or we’ll buy his company and take it.”

Michelle Wentworth shook her head. “That’s too slow. We need to know more about that drug now.”

“Cal, fire up the other screen,” the senior Mr. Wentworth said. “Let me show them the data I’ve gotten hold of so far.”

Mr. Brentwood clicked on a remote control and the images of the dinner guests were replaced by numbers and graphs. “This is some of the phase I-II data.” The senior Mr. Wentworth’s voice came through the speakers. “As you can see from this chart, the drug clears their systems through the kidneys within days. That’s for limited exposure. As Capable Tech stopped clinical trials, we don’t have any data on longer exposure.” The senior Mr. Wentworth had gone from sounding like a Texan in an old western to a pharmaceutical CEO.

“We can get you the blood samples.” Dad pulled out his smartphone and sent a text. “I’ll have a tech from the hospital run some lab kits over. It’s not the first time I’ve drawn someone’s blood after dessert.”

Kaitlin rubbed her arms, wishing she’d worn long sleeves. It was so cold in here, like Alaska. And all this talk of the drug reminded her of the last days at boarding school when The Scientist had gathered as much information from them as he could.

The next slide appeared.

She didn’t understand the pie chart on the screen, but her gaze glued to it along with everyone else’s. This data had the potential to affect her life, to explain what was going on with her body. She wanted to understand it. The slide scrolled upwards and off the screen, leaving a white background.

“Wait,” Michelle Wentworth said, “I want to see the table on adverse effects again.”

Kaitlin’s stomach tightened at the thought of adverse effects, and she ignored her curried lamb. She didn’t care for curry anyway.

There were clicks, but the screen didn’t change. “I’m not doing this,” Mr. Wentworth said.

The computer screen turned blue. White lines of code ran up the screen.

Rhys rose and grabbed a notepad from the sideboard and started scribbling. The computer screen went black and then the images of the Texas dinner guests reappeared.

Michelle Wentworth had her napkin clasped close to her chest. “Is there a problem with the connection?”

“The data’s gone on my end,” Mr. Wentworth said. “I’ll contact my IT guy and see what he can get off the backup drives.”

The senator’s eyes were furious. “You’ve been hacked, Dad.”

Rhys lifted his pen from the notebook and shook out his hand. He passed the pages to his grandfather. “I got everything I saw, but we were only on the first few slides.”

Dad turned a sharp gaze on him. “Your memory? Eidetic? Has it been like that since you were drugged? Kaitlin hasn’t had any memory changes.” He turned his eyes to her. “Have you?”

Not unless she counted how close she and Rhys had been. Maybe she was remembering that wrong. She’d known he was smart. She hadn’t known about his memory. “No.”

Mr. Brentwood’s hand fell on Rhys’ shoulder, but it was the senior Mr. Wentworth who spoke. “It’s always been like that. Rhys gets it from me. Right, boy?”

Holy crap. Rhys was related to the old man Wentworth. How’d that happen? They did both have Texas accents.

Rhys flushed, but didn’t look displeased. He nodded. “The drugs Kaitlin dosed me with messed it up, But, my memory’s coming back. I’ve always seen the page and the data and remembered it. Since the drugs, I see the texture of the paper, the type of ink, the font, and there’s too much to process. Now I’m snapping back and getting the meaning of the words too, like before.”

Dosed him with?
Dosed him with?

She’d made him a freaking cupcake or twenty. She hadn’t known she was using an experimental drug in the batter.

“He calms down around Kaitlin,” the senior Mr. Wentworth said. “Pretty girls always make boys dumber.”

Mom stiffened and stayed like that as the servants cleared the dinner plates and placed small dessert plates around the table. They followed with a pistachio walnut cake served with coffee.

“All day, I’ve been sharper,” Rhys said. “Even before Kaitlin got here it was better. Maybe the drug is washing out.”

Kaitlin wished she could talk to Rhys about the drug and everything else revealed tonight, especially as the old man’s claims meant Rhys was related to the Wentworths by blood. Not the Brentwoods.

Rumors about the Senator’s cheating lifestyle flew through her mind.

Oh.

Her gaze flew to the senator and then quickly to the cornucopia centerpiece before he caught her staring. Her face heated. Rhys’ father wasn’t either old man. He was the senator. No wonder Rhys had gone by a fake name in Alaska. Holy whopping election scandal.

Mom put aside her half-eaten cake. “It’s been lovely, but we really should see if that tech’s dropped off the lab kits so we can get Kaitlin home.” Kaitlin could tell from Mom’s voice that she’d come to the same conclusion about Rhys’ parentage.

How long had Rhys known the senator was his father? Had he grown up knowing? But why was he here with the Brentwoods? Were they that determined to cover for their son-in-law? Were they providing a home for Rhys to protect their daughter’s reputation? She’d thought he resembled Mr. Brentwood. Maybe she was seeing a resemblance because they lived together and had similar mannerisms. Or maybe the gossip had fogged up her vision.

Dessert wrapped up quickly after that. Dad drew the samples and shipped them to Wentworth Labs in Texas. Kaitlin didn’t get an opportunity to talk to Rhys alone because no matter how impressed Mom was to be dining, even via Internet link, with a senator and the people who Kaitlin’s school was named after, she made sure to keep Kaitlin with her at all times. She and Rhys had had no time to talk alone and this was all about them. Their bodies. They were the ones who’d been drugged. They were the ones living with the consequences.

Kaitlin clicked off her overhead light, leaving the twinkle lights on. She rubbed the adhesive strip over the back of her hand. It hadn’t come off in the shower, and she guessed she could take it off now. She picked at the end and tossed it to the nightstand, and then flopped back over, tugging her pink T-shirt back down. The new PJs were a size too large and inclined to twist. At least she knew her size now. She laid her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. Her body relaxed.

The dream started the same way.

She was standing in front of her locker with Rhys. The scent of lemon-polish was fading, so she knew it was afternoon because the janitors polished the lockers at night. The smell was sharper in the mornings, barely present by end of day.

The strap to her book bag slid off her shoulder and Rhys caught it and guided it to the floor. But instead of the school floor, the bag landed on her bedroom carpet. Rhys pressed his lips to hers, a slow rolling press, and then a quick touch.

Ooh. Tingles rushed through her like her twinkle lights had gone live. “Do it again.”

He did.

Something in the anticipation, the pressure, made the second kiss just as good. She placed his hands on her butt. He squeezed. Her body grew molten.

Oh.

Rhys kissed her harder this time.

“You’re wonderful.” Kaitlin held nothing back about how she was feeling. This was only a dream. “You light me up.”

They moved to her bed. Rhys pushed her back onto the sheets and came down on top of her. His weight felt shocking, foreign, and wonderful. He brushed his hand over her cheek. Light electric pulses followed his fleeting touch.

“Don’t stop.”

His fingers trailed down her neck to the neckline of her PJ top. “The lights are making a pattern on your skin.”

His voice sounded so clear to her. The Texas drawl, the deep tones. Everything felt really real. She knew how his kisses felt. How he tasted—like heat and intensity touched with wildness and only a hint of the closeness they’d shared in Alaska. She wanted more. She wanted the whole package. The friendship and burgeoning relationship they had in Alaska, these sexy slow kisses here in New York.

Rhys’ hand dropped lower.

Kaitlin turned her head to the side. She wanted him to ask her out, to hold her hand in the hallway, not just show up here in her dreams. “I want more than this, Rhys.”

“I can do more,” he murmured against her skin. The words vibrated on her collarbone.

Wow. Nice. Yes.

Kaitlin made herself blink. “I mean at school, too. I want a relationship, not just to be your secret in the dark.”

“Or what? You’ll drug me?”

She flinched back into the mattress. The question sounded like something Rhys Brentwood of NYC would say, not her Rhys from Alaska.

Kaitlin forced herself awake.

***

Rhys strode over to Kaitlin’s locker.

Kaitlin’s eyes widened, glittery on his face. Her pupils dilated. The bottom curve of her lip trembled.

He straddled her feet and leaned in.

Kaitlin twisted out of reach in one of her graceful dance moves. “Rhys. You can’t kiss me here.”

The words were a shock. He hadn’t known what he’d intended other than to get close to her. Screw it. She was right. He had been about to kiss her. “You have a vivid imagination.”

Kaitlin bent and retrieved her bag. “You have no idea.” She paused. “It wasn’t that…” Her voice grew uncertain, her fingers clenched. She twined a strand of hair around her index finger, the same way she’d done in his dreams last night.

“Wait.” Rhys took her wrists. Her skin was petal soft under his fingers and her pulse raced. He had to test something. “Here. This outfit. Then peach sheets. Twinkle lights. PJ shorts.”

Kaitlin gasped and her face paled. “How do you know that?” She looked around the hallway. “Did I leave my video camera on when I called you?”

Rhys ran a hand through his hair and frowned. “Is that what your room looks like?”

“Yes.” Her voice was strong, not wary.

“I dreamed it. I was in your room, more than once.”

“We were in this hallway, like this.”

“And then we were in your bed.”

Kaitlin flushed. “Did you get in my dream?” Her voice squeaked and her body trembled. Despite the usual crowd of students flowing down the hall, she focused only on him. “Is this the drug? Is this us?”

Rhys put his hand on her hip and backed her up to the lockers. He dropped his forehead to hers and his body tightened at the memory. “We’re not sharing news of this trick with anyone.”

“Agreed.”

His fingers moved to her hand and twined with hers until they were holding hands, something they hadn’t done since they left Alaska. His lips moved to her ear. “If we go to your room now, we could make it a premonition.”

“OMG,” she whispered. “Rhys, I haven’t even kissed a guy. I’m certainly not going to take you back to my room.”

The words, wrung from her in this weird moment, had an odd ring of truth. Freaky though that was, he believed her. It made him feel odd. Protective? Possessive? He didn’t like it. He shook off the feeling and released her, backing away, taking in a breath that didn’t include her vanilla-toned perfume. “Tonight when you go to sleep, we’ll test it. Try and get in
my
dream. Tell me what color my shirt is. What my room looks like. Tell me you’re there.”

Kaitlin bit her lip and blinked, the silver blue lights in her eyes flashed. “Okay.”

She sounded torn.

And tempted.

***

Rhys glanced at the clock again. He hadn’t been this eager for bedtime since he was a child and Christmas morning was the next day, but they were only on the soup course. Clam chowder. Not bad, but not Louisiana gumbo either.

He watched the librarian pick at her tofu stir fry. Good thing Grandmother didn’t try to pace the courses with the guests because tonight they were completely out of sync. In fact, the whole dinner tonight had a weird vibe. Michelle kept sending the senator meaningful looks without saying anything. The senator did the same with her. Too bad Christian wasn’t there. He’d have caught Rhys’ eye and sent him a text explaining what was going on. Not that he begrudged Christian having a date. Not too much anyway.

Michelle glanced at the senator again, holding his gaze a long solid moment. Then she turned full face to the camera. The computer revealed the heavy hand she’d used with the concealer, but it didn’t cover the shadows under her eyes. “Rhys. Mom. Dad. Steven and I have discussed something. We’ve come to a conclusion, and now we want to bring it up with you.” She looked at her parents. “We think you were right. We made the wrong decision sending Rhys to Alaska. He should have stayed in Trallwyn with us.”