I wonder what Caleb would’ve done if he’d been here when I nearly went after my dad for talking about Danica. With his smoothed-back black hair almost as smooth as his talking, Caleb is a favorite with my dad and grandfather. He probably could’ve talked our way out of trouble.
But “I Want It That Way” was pretty fucking funny, I have to admit. The surprise on my father’s face….
“We’ll recover from the half-mill,” Grandfather says in his gravelly voice. Every word he says sounds painful. I wonder if it’s all the practice he had to do to overcome his Cockney accent, to get to his current Queen’s English.
At eighty years old, with over half of his years spent in the US, Grandfather could shed the accent. But maybe all the work he had to do for it makes him want to keep it.
Everything about him is rigid and controlled. Like my dad, he seems to feel nothing—unless he’s angry. That emotion is okay, I guess.
Dad’s eyes flash. “We can’t just let them walk all over us.”
Arky stares at the croissant as I lift it to my mouth. Little beggar. Fuck, I love this guy.
“It’s our image I’m worried about.” Grandfather’s blue eyes are the same as my dad’s. I’m the odd man out, with my green eyes. “Did the media catch wind of the explosion?”
Dad snorts. “They did. But we stifled the news, redirected with a scandal at a Mirarosa school.”
“Good, good.”
I wonder whose life they ruined to protect our “image.” I hope the poor bastard deserved it. I break off a piece of my croissant and subtly give it to Arky.
Caleb sees me do it. He grins and accidentally-on-purpose drops some of his croissant to the floor. Arky lurches over and gobbles it up like a canine vacuum cleaner, but he quickly returns to my side.
“We need some positive exposure,” Grandfather says. “Are there any events coming up?”
Caleb and my father both take out their phones to look. I should help, but to be perfectly fucking honest, I don’t want to.
“There’s a premiere in two weeks in LA,” Grandfather says. “Joni Abioye’s new film. Supposed to be big.”
“This Saturday there’s a benefit at the Rosa Roja.” Caleb holds up his phone. “Did you get an invite? The hotel’s in Salding.”
“Might have. Olivia Santiago is throwing the party.” Grandfather nods. “I’ll look into it. We can send Edmund.”
I frown. “My parents should go. It’s been a while since they were seen in public together.”
Grandfather and Dad both scoff, like this is the stupidest idea. It sort of is. My parents hate being in the same room and avoid it at all costs. Just the same, they could disguise their mutual loathing long enough to get through an evening.
“What about Edmund taking Rosalind May?” Caleb asks.
I shoot him a look of annoyance. He’s supposed to be my friend. But he’s kissing the asses of my dad and grandfather…at my expense.
“The governor’s daughter.” Grandfather nods. “That would garner some attention.”
“It’s too short notice.” I lean back, and Arky leans with me. “I can go alone.”
“You showing up alone somewhere is hardly noteworthy—there are no positive headlines in that.” Grandfather starts tapping on his phone, likely looking for Governor May’s contact information.
I scramble for something, anything, to stop this idea dead in its tracks. “When’s the next shipment coming in?”
They take the fucking bait, and discussion of Olivia Santiago’s benefit is dropped in favor of plans for heightened security at the docks next week. I add fuel to the conversation, mentioning something Troy had said about incompetent guards. Caleb takes offense, since he’s on security detail. Serves him fucking right, for throwing me under the bus with that benefit.
An hour later, Troy and I get into the back of my car, and Jon takes us away from Rendsell. With every passing mile, the tightness in my body loosens.
At least, until my grandfather texts me contact info for Rosalind May. Take her to the benefit.
I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. I already have a date.
It’s a lie, and a stupid one. If I had a date, I would’ve mentioned her earlier. But I can’t ask Rosalind May out. We barely know each other. There is, however, someone I want to ask. Little Danica Montrose.
