Wade grins. “I’m always right. So what’re you gonna do about it?”
“Not sure yet. But don’t worry, shit’s gonna change.” I give him a deadly look. “I’m on it.”
19
Ella
I get home from school and make a beeline for my room, where I throw myself on the bed and curl up on my side. I just want to pretend that this entire day from hell never happened. Every time I think I can’t feel any more humiliated, the jerks at Astor Park Prep prove me wrong.
I won’t cry, though. Nope. Not shedding a single tear. I’m not giving them that kind of power over me.
Still, speech class sucked on a whole new level. The slurs against my mom were almost too much for me to handle. I can’t believe the teacher stood there like a dummy for five minutes before shutting the class down.
Maybe I should’ve gone over to Val’s like she’d wanted me to. We could’ve sat on her bed eating ice cream and gossiping about her new crush, which suddenly sounds a lot better than sulking in my room all night.
Plus, I wouldn’t be tensing up every time I hear footsteps in the hall. I can’t believe I kissed Reed the other night. No, I more than kissed him. He had my pants down and his hands on my butt. Who knows how much further I would have let him go if the whole baby thing hadn’t popped up between us.
What if he’s actually the father of Brooke’s baby? How can I ever live in the same house as Reed and Brooke and their secret baby that poor Callum will be unknowingly raising as his own?
God. When did my life become such a soap opera?
I squeeze my face tightly between both my palms until I can feel my teeth press against my cheek. That pain doesn’t make the one in my heart go away. I…miss Reed. I’m angry at myself for it, but I can’t stop it, either. All that stuff I told him about how I thought he saw me…I still feel that way. Reed fixes those intense blue eyes on me, and it’s like he can see into my soul. He sees past the tough front I hide behind. He sees my fears and my vulnerability and he doesn’t judge me for it.
And I honestly believed I could see him, too. Was I imagining it? Those moments of laughter where we both let our guards down, that raw look in his eyes when he told me he wished he could be worthy, the peaceful sensation that washed over me when we fell asleep together…
Was it all in my imagination?
I grab my math book out of my backpack and force myself to concentrate. Afterward, I treat myself by watching two mindless episodes of The Bachelor, but it’s no fun when Val isn’t sitting beside me making wisecracks about the contestants.
“Ella.” Callum’s voice sounds from the hall, followed by a sharp knock on my door. “Dinner’s ready. You need to come down.”
“I’m not hungry,” I call back.
“Come down,” he repeats. “We have guests.”
I frown at the door. Callum’s not usually super parental with me, but right now, his tone is stern and fatherly.
“We’re eating on the patio,” he adds, and then I hear him knocking on other doors and gathering the troops. He’s personally collecting each one of us, and he sounds a bit…worried.
I sit up warily, wondering who our “guests” are. Brooke, obviously, because that witch has been over almost every night since she and Callum dropped their baby bomb.
But who else? As far as I know, Callum’s only friend was Steve, and he’s dead.
Sighing, I heave myself off the mattress and quickly change out of my school uniform into something more dinner appropriate. Unfortunately, I keep forgetting to go shopping, so I’m stuck wearing one of the dresses from my shopping spree with Brooke.
I walk into the hall at the same time Reed and Easton are leaving their rooms. I ignore them both and they ignore each other and it’s a silent, stony trudge down the stairs.
When we step onto the patio, I immediately understand why Callum was worried. We have two dinner guests: Brooke…and Dinah O’Halloran.
Beside me, Reed’s entire body stiffens. His blue eyes shift from one blonde bitch to the other.
“What’s the occasion?” he asks coolly.
Brooke offers us a broad smile. “Celebrating the engagement, silly!” She flips her hair over her shoulder. “Unofficially, of course, because there’ll be a proper engagement party once we get the details squared away. Somewhere decadent, like the Palace or maybe the King Edward? What do you think, Dinah? Do we want a modern venue, or someplace more distinguished?”
Dinah lifts her nose in distaste. “The King Edward Hotel has lost its appeal, Brookie. It used to be far more exclusive, but now that they’ve reduced their rates, the clientele is much lower class.”
Callum glances at me and the boys. “Sit,” he commands. “You’re being rude.”
I scan the available seats. Brooke and Dinah are on either side of Callum, while Sawyer and Sebastian—both wearing sullen expressions—lucked out with seats on the opposite end of the table.
Reed and Easton bypass the empty chairs near the women and flop down beside the twins. This leaves me with two not so appealing options, but I decide Dinah is the lesser of two bitches and reluctantly take the seat next to hers.
I get situated just as Gideon stalks through the French doors. “Evening,” he mutters.
Callum nods in approval. “I’m glad you were able to make it, Gid.” There’s an edge in his voice.
Gideon’s tone is even sharper. “Because you really left me much of a choice, right, Dad?” His jaw ticks when he realizes the only available seat is next to Brooke. His future stepmother.
She pats the chair. “Come sit, darling. Let me pour you a glass of wine.”
“I’ll have water,” he says tightly.
An awkward silence falls over the table once we’re all settled. Every single Royal boy is sporting a deep scowl. Callum watches them, looking disappointed.
What did he expect, though? His sons have barely spoken to him since the baby announcement. I’ve seen the twins cringe every time Brooke flashes her shiny diamond around. Easton’s drunk more often than he’s sober. Gideon apparently needs to be bullied into coming home. And Reed slept with Callum’s girlfriend two or three or a hundred times.
So yeah. Callum’s out of his mind if he thinks this big, happy family dinner will be anything other than a total disaster.
“Thank you so much for inviting me tonight,” Dinah chirps to Callum. “It’s been ages since I visited the Royal palace.”
The bite to her words reveals exactly how she feels about the lack of invitations rolling her way. She looks beautiful tonight, despite the venom in her green eyes. Her golden hair is swept up, and two diamond earrings dangle from her earlobes. She’s wearing a white dress with a deep-cut V that shows off both her tan and her cleavage.
I can see why my father was drawn to her. Dinah looks like a sexy angel. I wonder how long it took him to realize she was actually the devil.
Callum must have hired caterers for this dinner, because three uniformed women I don’t recognize sashay onto the patio and begin serving us. It makes me feel awkward, and I have to pin myself to the chair so I don’t jump up and help them.
Then the nine of us settle in to eat. Is the food delicious? I have no idea. I don’t pay attention to what I’m shoving into my mouth. If anything, I’m trying not to throw up. Brooke is gabbing away about the new Royal baby and it’s making me sick.
“If it’s a boy, I’d like his middle name to be Emerson, after Callum’s father, God rest his soul,” Brooke is telling Dinah. “Don’t you think that has a nice ring to it? Callum Emerson Royal the Second.”
She’s planning on naming the baby Callum? Why not Reed? I want to crack. Then I clench my fingers around my water glass, because the thought of Reed actually being this kid’s biological dad is rage-inducing. And nauseating. And just plain awful.
Reed claims that the last time he was with Brooke was more than six months ago, and she’s definitely not that far along. So maybe they didn’t have sex the night I walked
in on them. He says they didn’t. Brooke says they didn’t.
Maybe they’re telling the truth?
Yes, Ella, and Mom’s last boyfriend was totally holding hands with his sister. Idiot.
“Ella?”
I lift my head and find Callum eyeing me. “Sorry, what?”
“Brooke asked you a question,” he prompts.
I reluctantly glance at Brooke, who winks at me. “I asked if you had any suggestions for girls’ names.”
“No,” I mutter. “Sorry. I’m bad with names.”
“Boys?” she asks the Royals. “Any ideas?”
Not a single one of them answers. The twins pretend they’re too focused on stuffing their faces, but Reed, Gideon, and Easton flat-out ignore her.
Since I’m the only one who contributed to the conversation—if you can call six measly words a contribution—I quickly become the focus of the adults.
“I’m disappointed that you don’t visit the penthouse more often,” Dinah tells me. “I’d really like to get to know my husband’s daughter.”
She says daughter as if it’s a dirty word. Callum’s features tighten, but his mouth remains firmly shut.
“I haven’t been invited.” I strive for an equally cool tone.
Dinah’s gaze darkens. “You don’t need an invitation,” she answers sweetly. “The penthouse is half yours, remember?”
“I guess.”
At my cloudy expression, she shrugs and turns to Gideon. “How’s college, darling? It’s been ages since I’ve seen you. Tell me everything you’ve been up to.”
“College is fine,” he says curtly.
“You have a swim meet coming up, no?” Dinah runs her fingers over the stem of her glass. “I think Brooke might have mentioned it?”
A muscle in his jaw flexes before he answers. “Yes, that’s right.”
Brooke speaks up, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe we should all drive up to cheer him on. What do you think, Callum?”
“Ah…yes. That sounds…great.”
Reed snorts quietly.
Callum throws a warning glance in his direction.
I pretty much hate everyone at the table right now.
The tension thickens and thickens, until I feel like the walls are closing in on me and I’m suffocating from the inside out. And we’re outdoors, dammit.
“I wish you’d gotten to know your father,” Dinah says. “Steve was such a…formidable man. And loyal. So very loyal. Right, Callum?”
Callum nods and pours himself another glass of wine. I’m pretty sure he’s on his second bottle. Brooke, meanwhile, is drinking sparkling water because of the pregnancy.
“Best man I ever knew,” Callum says thickly.
“Not very good at managing his money, though,” Dinah remarks. Her green eyes narrow at me for a moment. “Do you take after your mother or father, Ella?”
“My mother,” I answer tersely, but how the hell would I know?
“Of course you have to say that,” she muses. “After all, Steve didn’t know about you. You literally did not exist for him for most of your life.”
Nice, subtle jab there, Dinah. But you know what? I grew up around catty women who were constantly afraid that their one asset—their looks—was quickly fading. I can take whatever she dishes out.
I smile. “He came around. I mean, he did leave me everything he could.”
And he would have left me more if you didn’t have a boatload of lawyers making sure every loose penny fell into your purse.
Her answering smile is full of teeth. “I was thinking about you the other day.” Please, don’t. “And how much alike we are. My mother wasn’t well when I was young, and we moved around as much as you did. She made poor life decisions. There were often…” She pauses and takes a sip of her drink.
Against all of our wills, we’re listening to her every word, and she clearly revels in the attention.
“Often people that drifted in and out of my life that weren’t always the best sort of influence. Sometimes these men wanted things from me that a child should never be asked to give.”
Dinah looks at me expectantly. I guess she’s like one of those old-timey Southern preachers who need affirmation to make sure their message is getting through.
“That’s too bad,” I mutter.
She’s right, though. Her story is similar to my own past. But I refuse to feel sorry for her. Her life is a far cry from that now.
“It is, isn’t it?” She dabs the side of her mouth with a napkin. “I’d love to give you some advice, from one lost girl to another. You don’t need to wait for what you want in life, because if you do, you’ll end up like our mothers—used and, ultimately, dead. And I’m sure you don’t want that, do you, Ella?”
Callum sets his fork against the table with more force than necessary. “I don’t think this is appropriate dinner conversation.”
Dinah waves a dismissive hand. “It’s girl talk, Callum. I’m giving Ella some of my hard-won wisdom.”
And warning me that she’s going to try to take everything Steve left me.
“Is this the plot of some Lifetime movie?” Easton interjects before I can respond. “Because I blocked that channel on my TV.”
“Samesy,” Sawyer says. “Where’s the dessert?”
“Well, if we’re bored of my life story and Ella’s, how about we talk about you boys? I know Easton and the twins like to play the field. What about you two? Reed? Gideon? Are you boys seeing anyone special or breaking hearts like your little brothers?” She gives a teasing laugh. Nobody else joins in.
“We’re both single,” Gideon grinds out.
That gets Brooke’s attention. She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, shooting me an impish look as the wait staff carts out our desserts. “And you, Ella? Found that special someone yet?”
Callum is eyeing me too now. It figures this would be the moment he decides to take his drunken face out of his wine bottle.
I lower my head to my dessert as if the tiramisu on my plate is the most interesting thing I’ve ever seen. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”
There’s another lull in the conversation. I scarf down my cake as quickly as I can, and I notice from the corner of my eye that all the Royal boys are doing the same.
Gideon beats us all, dropping his fork on his empty plate and scraping his chair back. “I need to make a phone call.”
His father frowns. “We’re about to serve coffee.”
“Don’t want any,” Gid mumbles. He hightails it off the patio as if he can’t get away fast enough.
Reed opens his mouth to speak but Callum silences him with a look. You’re not going anywhere, it says. And Reed angrily slumps back in his seat.
The catering staff comes out with trays of fancy-pants lattes featuring actual designs created out of the foam. Mine’s a leaf. Brooke’s is a tree but should’ve been a pitchfork.
“Excuse me,” Dinah says as the coffee is served. “I need to use the little girls’ room.”
Reed catches my gaze and we both roll our eyes, and I instantly regret the moment of camaraderie because it brings a pleased half-smile to his lips.
This time, it’s Easton and I who beat out the brothers, slurping our lattes back in record time. We slam our cups down and speak at the same time.
“I’ll help the caterers with these dishes—”
“I’ll take in this tray—”
We glare at each other for a moment, but our mutual need to flee inspires another bonding moment.
“Ella and I will take care of this,” Easton finishes, and I nod in gratitude.
Callum is quick to protest. “The wait staff is perfectly capable of—”
But Easton and I are already gathering up random plates and cups.
As we hurry toward the French doors, I hear Reed’s grumble of annoyance tickling my back.
“Great minds think alike,” Easton murmurs.
I flash him a quick scowl. “Oh, so now we’re friends again?” r />
His expression flickers with guilt. When we reach the kitchen, he sets the plates in the sink, glances discreetly at the catering staff, and lowers his voice. “I’m sorry about what I said at Sav’s party. I was…wasted.”
“You’re not allowed to use that as an excuse,” I retort. “You’re always wasted and you’ve never said anything like that to me before.”
His cheeks redden. “I’m sorry. I’m an asshole.”
“Yup.”
“Forgive me?”
He dons his trademark little-boy look that usually makes people melt, but I’m not letting him off the hook that easily. The comment he’d made the other night was mean. And hurtful. So I shake my head at him and walk out of the kitchen.
“Ella. Come on. Wait.” He catches up to me in the hall and takes hold of my arm. “You know I say stupid shit without thinking.”
My face heats up. “You pretty much told everyone at that party that I’m a slut, Easton.”
He moans. “I know. I messed up, okay? You know I don’t think that about you. I…” His features crease. “I like you. You’re my baby sis. Please don’t be mad at me.”
Before I can respond, a soft noise snags my attention. It sounded like a groan. Or maybe a sigh?
I glance toward the end of the hall. There are only three rooms in this section of the house: a small powder room, the walk-in pantry, and a closet.
“Did you hear that?” I ask Easton.
He nods grimly.
Something compels me to creep farther down the corridor. I pause in front of the pantry, but I don’t hear anything behind the door. Same with the closet. The bathroom, though…
Easton and I both freeze when we hear the moan. It’s a woman, from the sound of it. My blood runs cold, because there are six females in the Royal mansion right now and five of them are accounted for. Brooke’s on the patio. The waitresses are in the kitchen. And I’m right here.
Which means…
I turn to Easton with wide eyes, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.
He must have put two and two together, because his mouth falls open slightly.
“Easton,” I hiss when he reaches for the doorknob.