Remember Me? (Book 1) COMPLETED

The Truth

KATHERINE

When I get back to Nick's house, he's already leaning against the hood of his car, his blazer slung over his shoulder. He smiled at me as I pulled Victoria's car into the garage. I walked back out and wordlessly slipped into the passenger side of his car.

"Erland is playing video games in the den, so he'll be well-occupied for the next few hours." Nick put the car in reverse.

"Good to know," I answered stiffly.

He didn't speak again as he drove out of the neighborhood and further into the city. Wayward City opened up on the horizon in a brilliant blast of lights, like constellations of stars reflected in the surface of a rippling lake.

But he turned off the highway just outside city limits, taking us down a well-worn, windy road. A cozy restaurant greeted us at the end, its shutters open and welcoming as fairy lights lit up the outside seating. As he helped me out of the car—a chaste hand steadying me at the small of my back—the enchanting aroma of lamb and mint wafted out the open door.

We were seated in a corner booth, where mood lighting shielded us from any onlookers. Despite the atmosphere, a strange tension hung between the two of us, crackling with every second of silence that passed.

"Where do you want to start?" asked Nick, setting down his menu.

I hadn't even picked up mine. My stomach was in knots. "You start," I said, chewing the inside of my cheek. "What do you think I should know first?"

Nick reached for his wine. "First? I think you should know about Wayward Publishing."

"What about it?" I crossed my arms to keep from reaching for my own class, feeling the tension wind around my throat. "I looked up what you told me. You're in charge of Outward Relations. Octavia Beardsly is in charge of the company."

Nick set down his glass, now half-full. "That's only technically true," he said. "Yes, I am the Director of Outward Relations, and Octavia may be the CEO, but she's not in charge. I own the company."

I almost fell out of my chair. "You—what?"

He swallowed, any semblance of being collected now coming apart at the seems. "I own 50% of the shares of Wayward Publishing."

My fingers wound around the napkin on my lap. "And who owns the other 50%?"

"You do, Katherine."

Breath fled my lungs.

"You own half of Wayward Publishing. Half of every dollar made belongs to you. And it's a hell of a lot of money. Two millions dollars, to be exact."

I downed the rest of my wine.

"Say something, Katherine." Nick's voice was raw. "What are you thinking?"

"It's . . . it's a lot to take in."

The waiter came by, but Nick waved her away.

"I know it is," he said. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. Victoria is still trying to take the shares out from under you, but she won't be able to touch them. Not unless the whole of the Committee agrees with her." A shadow flitted across his features.

"Why did you do this?" I asked, unable to stop my voice from wavering.

"I didn't do this, Kat. You did. When you helped me set up the bookstore"—he swallowed—"and it failed, I turned it into a publishing company and saved it. Your name is still on the papers."

"Victoria wants it."

"But she'll never get it. She may be a partner in the Committee, but that is just for advisements." Nick reached forward to touch my hand, but I drew it back as if stung.