Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Having written my to-do list for the following day on a virtual sticky note, I switched off my computer, gathered my things, and slipped on my coat. Dane was out of the office, so I didn’t need to pop in and say goodbye. I just headed straight for the elevator.

Most of the employees had already left the building, so I didn’t pass many people. Since my “serious relationship” with Dane became public a week ago, some of my co-workers had changed a little toward me. Talk would sometimes stop when I entered the break room. Smiles were occasionally too false. I’d hear people whispering nearby, but they’d shut up if I turned to look at them.

Two women in particular were getting on my last nerve. They mostly just did petty stuff like sneer or titter or pointedly ignore me, but I kind of felt betrayed. These were people I’d once chatted with regularly and had drinks with at Christmas office parties. Now, they treated me like I was a pariah. I figured it was jealousy, since both females had tried and failed to seduce Dane years ago.

I supposed that back then they’d comforted themselves with the fact that he made a point of not sleeping with his employees. It was no doubt a kick to their ego that he’d seemingly now made an exception for me. Still, there was no need for them to be so freaking bitchy.

That Dane made an effort to have lunch with me most days—usually in the privacy of his office—seemed to have exacerbated the issue. I was sure others thought we were getting up to some raunchy stuff in there while on our break. I was also sure that Dane was hoping they would assume that.

Uninterested in lowering myself to the level of the other women, I’d so far ignored it. I also hadn’t told Dane about it. Nor had I mentioned that some of the other employees were acting off with me. I was no tattler, and I could deal with my own problems just fine. It would all blow over eventually if I paid it no mind.

Most of o-Verve were amazingly supportive of our “relationship.” They’d gushed over the online pictures of us that were taken by the photographers at the charity fundraiser. Hanna had dissected each of Dane’s expressions, swearing he was “crazy” about me. I’d just smiled and said I hoped it was true.

I was walking through o-Verve’s private parking garage, my heels clacking on the pitted pavement, when my phone beeped. I pulled my cell out of my purse without breaking stride, careful to dodge an oil stain on the ground. Looking at the screen, I saw that I had two messages. The most recent was from Melinda, informing me that she and Wyatt would be having a barbeque on Sunday and that Simon, Dane and I were invited. The other message had been sent an hour ago, but I hadn’t heard my phone beep.

It was from Maggie: Hey honey. Haven’t heard from you in a week, just wanted to check on you. Simon’s missing you xx

Maggie and Freddie often informed me of how my father was doing, since Simon wasn’t the type to share how he was feeling. It was never good for his emotions to build up.

Reaching my car, I unlocked it with the key fob. The resulting beep seemed to echo in the large space. I slid into the driver’s seat and then called Simon.

After a few rings, he answered, “Hey, my sweet girl. How are you?”

I smiled, my heart squeezing. “Good, you?”

“Fine, fine. How’s everything going?”

“Great. Really great.” I bit my lip, hesitant to continue but knowing I’d have to. “I, um … There’s someone I’d like to introduce to you.”

“Oh? Who?”

“My boss, Dane Davenport. He and I have sort of been seeing each other.”

“Well, good,” he said, sounding genuinely excited. “It’s about time you started dating again. I hate thinking of you up there in your apartment all alone.”

I knew he did, just as I knew a large part of him would want this for me. But another part of him … I silently sighed.

“When do I get to meet him?” Simon asked.

“How about Sunday? Melinda and Wyatt are throwing a barbeque at their house. They want me to invite you and Dane.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, and I heard the smile in his voice. “What time?”

“Around noon-ish.”

“I’ll be there. Looking forward to seeing you.”

A smile tugged at my mouth. “Same here. Take care, Dad.”

“You too, my sweet girl. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Closing my eyes, I rested my forehead on the steering wheel, hoping to God his enthusiasm didn’t dim or fracture. He could initially take things so well. But then, after putting a little more thought into a matter, he could start obsessing over the smallest elements of the situation and then his whole viewpoint could alter.

Lifting my head, I blew out a breath and started the engine. If there was a problem, Maggie or Freddie would contact me. That was a comfort.

After the hour-long commute from o-Verve to my complex, I whipped my car into my assigned parking space in the lot and then headed to the front of the building. I was just approaching the main door when a familiar figure stepped out of the shadows.

I stilled. “What do you want?”

Travis raised his hands. “Just to talk. There are things … Look, I know you don’t like me much, but this is important. Can I come in?”

Was he high? “No.” I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him, so there was no way I’d invite him into my home. “But we can take a walk.”

He gave a slow nod. “All right.”

Our steps were slow and steady as we strolled along the sidewalk. I stayed silent, waiting for him to say whatever he’d come to say. It was at least a full minute before he came to a sudden stop and turned to face me.

“I know you like Dane a lot,” said Travis. “I could see it clear as day at the gala. But you don’t know him. Not really.”

I raised a brow. “I don’t?”

“No, you don’t. I’m an asshole. I know that. But so is Dane—he’s just a different kind of asshole. He’s not all bad, no. But he always puts himself first. Always. Our father was the same. May the bastard rot in hell,” he muttered under his breath.

My brows flew up. “Essentially, you’re saying Dane’s selfish?”

“Among many other things. He wasn’t always like that. But Dane … our father messed up each of us, but Dane worst of all. Oliver’s death only made it worse. Dane turned cold and self-centered. And either his sense of right and wrong is warped, or it has ceased to matter to him if he goes against it.”

Wondering who Oliver was, I made a mental note to ask Dane about him. “He’s ruthless when it comes to business, sure—”

“And when it comes to every other aspect of his life. Dane never does anything for anyone unless there’s something in it for him. He has so many people in his pocket because he swoops in when they need aid and then makes them indebted to him.”

My scalp prickled. When Dane helped with the whole sextortion thing, I hadn’t thought he’d done it specifically to ensure I owed him a favor. But was it in him to be that cunning? Yes. Yes, it was.

“If he sees something he wants, he takes it, even if others will be hurt,” Travis added. “Take Jen, for example.”

I felt my brow furrow. “Kent’s wife?”

“She’s been part of our lives since we were kids. Kent’s always adored her. Dane knew that, but he fucked her anyway. It was years ago, before she got married. He fucked her a few times, actually. And then he walked away. He never intended to keep her. She meant nothing to him. And yet, he didn’t keep his distance and let her be only Kent’s. He didn’t care what that would do to Kent. Dane wanted a piece of her, so he took it.”

My stomach twisted as I recalled what Dane had said to me at the gala …

“Vienna, I’m a man who gets what he wants. Always. No exceptions. I never stop or back down until I have it.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” I asked.

“Because Jen looked at him the same way you do,” replied Travis. “You know better than anyone that he’s a huge user when it comes to women. Maybe it’s different for him this time; maybe you truly do mean something to him. But you’ll never be everything to him—no woman will be. He sees himself as the king of his castle, and others are just lowly people to be used. He doesn’t view them as his equals.”

Dane did use people, and he did seem to consider himself superior to most. But I didn’t believe he looked on others as pawns in a game or something.

I folded my arms. “And you think I should break up with him?”

“I think you should just be wary. I didn’t warn Jen, and I wish I had. Just like I wish I’d warned Senator Whitman’s daughter. Like Jen, we’d known her for years—our uncle was friends with her father. Lorraine was a mess after she miscarried Dane’s baby.”

“Miscarried?” I echoed, my chest tightening.

“Yes. When she told him she was pregnant, he said the baby wasn’t his; he wouldn’t take responsibility for it. She was devastated. Then she miscarried and … I’ve never seen a woman so cut up.” Sorrow glimmered in Travis’s eyes. “She was only nineteen, Vienna. Can you imagine going through that at nineteen? At any age? Can you imagine going to the father of your kid, afraid and pregnant, only to have him send you on your way?”

I wasn’t sure if the temperature had dropped or if it was simply me, but I felt cold all of a sudden.

Travis let out a weary sigh. “If I’d warned her that he wasn’t the good man she thought he was, maybe she’d have turned him down, and then maybe she’d never have had to lose a baby. But I didn’t warn her. That was a mistake. And so I’m warning you. Do what you will with that warning.”

The following afternoon, I sat across from Dane in the seating area of his office while we had our weekly half-hour meeting to review his calendar and broach any issues. I still hadn’t told him about Travis’s visit the previous evening. I’d decided to take the night to think everything over and work through it in my head; to dissect his story and try to separate fact from fiction.

There was no way that he’d care if Dane hurt me. But there was just enough truth in his story to make the whole thing sound utterly believable. I was far too suspicious of Travis and his intentions to buy his account as pure truth, though. He’d had an ulterior motive in coming to “warn” me about Dane; he wanted me to break up with his brother.

Of course, I could be wrong in thinking that Travis had tossed the occasional lie into his tale. Just because he had an ulterior motive didn’t mean he was lying. But I didn’t trust him even a little, so I didn’t trust his word.

I’d decided to wait until I got Dane alone before I brought up the matter, but he’d been out of his office all morning. Now that our meeting was almost over, I could finally bring it up.

“Did you take care of the travel and logistics for our trip to Vegas?” he asked.

My stomach rolled, just as it did every time I thought of our upcoming wedding—which would be happening next Wednesday. I cleared my throat. “Yes, I emailed you a copy of your travel itinerary an hour ago.”

“Good. I’ll read through it once I get a spare moment. Did you remember to book us in for an extra night?”

I nodded. “Yes.” It meant that instead of flying home on our wedding day, we’d return the following day. Which made sense, really, because it would have looked odd if we’d been in such a rush to get married but then hadn’t cared about enjoying the day.

“How many rooms did you book at the hotel?”

“Two, as usual.”

“You’ll need to cancel your room; you’ll be staying in my suite. We’re allegedly a couple now, remember? Don’t worry, there’s more than one bedroom.”

Well, I knew that. He’d stayed in that suite before. It was huge.

“On another note, you said you’d arrange for me to meet your family,” he said. “Did you do it?”

I clicked the top of my pen. “My foster parents have invited you to the barbecue they’re having at their house on Sunday. My dad will be there.” And so I’d need to explain a few things to Dane about Simon, which would not be easy. It was often difficult for people to truly understand.

Dane set his notepad on the coffee table between us. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me nothing.”

I straightened in my seat. “Travis was waiting for me outside my apartment building last night.”

Dane’s expression went hard. “What did he want?”

“To warn me that you might hurt me.”

Exasperation flashed in Dane’s dark eyes. “I should have guessed he might try to convince you to break up with me. I’m sure he came across as very concerned about you.”

“Oh, he did. He said you’re not all bad, but that you’re selfish. Selfish enough to sleep with the woman your other brother has always loved.” I waited for him to look shocked by the statement and quickly deny it, but he didn’t say a word. “It’s true?”

“That I slept with Jen? Yes. Once. It was a long time ago.”

Once? Travis had claimed it happened a few times. But it didn’t really matter how many times Dane had slept with her. The issue was that it had allegedly hurt Kent.

I crossed one leg over the other, and Dane’s eyes dropped to my legs. “It didn’t bother you that Kent cared for her?” I asked, a slight edge in my voice.

Dane’s eyes flew back to mine. “Kent was engaged to someone else at the time. Travis didn’t tell you that?”

I shook my head.

“Unsurprising. What else did he say?”

“He told me about the Senator’s daughter. He told me she miscarried your baby.”

“She didn’t miscarry. She had an abortion.”

My lips parted. “An abortion?”

“Yes. She was pissed when I insisted it wasn’t my baby. She thought I’d marry her. She was wrong. I don’t know who fathered that baby, but it was not me.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re sure?”

“I’m very sure.”

“No type of contraception is guaranteed to work every time.”

“True. But I’d had a vasectomy two years before that. I caught a woman using a syringe to extract my come out of a condom.”

My mouth dropped open. “You are joking.”

“I never joke,” he reminded me. “But, out of respect for Lorraine’s father, I said I’d have a DNA test done on the child after it was born; that if it was mine, I’d be a part of its life. The next thing I knew, she was gatecrashing Hope’s mother’s birthday party, drunk off her ass, where she then announced that she’d aborted my unborn child.”

I stared at him for a long moment. Dane could lie with utter ease, but my gut told me he was telling the truth.

“I’m not convinced there really was a baby. Lorraine wasn’t content that I’d have a DNA test. She wanted me to slide a ring on her finger. So I had to wonder if the whole thing was a scam.”

It was possible, I supposed.

“My family—knowing I couldn’t possibly have fathered anyone’s baby—was furious with her, even Travis. But I see he enjoyed twisting the whole thing to make you turn against me.”

“Yes, he did. He also made it sound like you and Jen had a fling.”

“Well we didn’t. It was a one-night stand—nothing more. She’s now happily married to Kent.”

“Yet, she was weird to me at the gala. Why?”

“She told me she had a moment of petty jealousy.”

I stilled. “She ‘told’ you that? When?”

Dane idly drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa. “She called me the morning after the gala and apologized. Apparently, it stung her ego to see me happy with you the way I never was with her. She said she’d apologize to you the next time she saw you.”

Huh. Well I’d accept it gracefully, but I wouldn’t particularly care to hear it. Snobs weren’t my kind of people.

I tilted my head. “Back to what you said before … someone really tried to extract your come out of a condom? Seriously?”

He nodded.

I could only shake my head in wonder. “I didn’t know people did stuff like that. I mean, I know there are women who’ll deliberately get pregnant in the hope of using the kid as a meal ticket.” Hell, Heather was one of them. “But not go that far to get pregnant. What did the woman say when you caught her?”

“That I wasn’t supposed to walk into a bathroom without knocking.”

“That’s … wow. Just wow.” Hearing he’d had a vasectomy wasn’t as much of a shock, though. I’d once overheard Dane say that he had no interest in having children.

“Next time Travis bothers you, call me straight away,” said Dane. “I wish I could tell you he’ll leave you alone after we’re married, but I can’t guarantee that. If you and I were to divorce before the year was up, I’d be denied access to my trust fund—he knows that.”

“Are you going to confront him about this?”

“Yes. He’ll no doubt lie that you put words into his mouth.”

Probably. Because, as Hanna often claimed, the guy was a weasel. “He said something else.”

“What?”

“He said your father messed all of you up, and that the death of someone called Oliver made it worse.”

Dane’s gaze seemed to ice over; it honestly chilled me just a little. “Travis will no doubt say a lot of things to you,” he said, his tone neutral.

“Truths or lies?”

“Probably a little of both.”

“And you’re not going to tell me more about your father or who Oliver is?”

“You don’t need to know.”

I almost flinched. Not at his words, but at the way he’d said them. His tone had been sharp. Hard. So cold I was surprised the air hadn’t frosted. Making it clear I’d crossed a line.

Well, that put me in my place, didn’t it?

To be fair to him, this wasn’t a relationship. He didn’t owe me explanations. And there were plenty of things I hadn’t told him. Things I’d prefer to never tell him. So, yeah, I’d be a complete hypocrite if I pushed him on this.

I was more annoyed by the fact that I cared that he wouldn’t tell me. It shouldn’t hurt. There was no reason for it to do so. And yet, my chest felt tight.

Had I somehow let myself get pulled into the fantasy that our relationship was real? I hadn’t thought so. I’d thought I was doing fine at keeping it straight in my head that it was all fake. But maybe I was wrong, because I’d slipped here. Before the fake-dating began, I never would have asked him personal questions, and I definitely wouldn’t have felt hurt if he hadn’t wanted to share something personal.

Shit, this wasn’t good. Not at all. I couldn’t afford to let it all get blurred in my head.

We weren’t dating. We weren’t bed-buddies. Hell, we weren’t even friends. He was my boss, and I was his PA—that was the extent of our relationship. I couldn’t let myself forget that. Not even for a moment.

Wrapping my PA-cloak tight around me, I stood. “You have a conference call in fifteen minutes, so I’ll head back to my desk. Buzz me if you need anything.” I turned and made my way to the door.

“Vienna?” he said when I reached for the doorknob.

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Yes?”

He watched me closely, those dark, far-too-perceptive eyes roaming over my face. He opened his mouth to speak, but then his cell phone began to chime. He reached for it, just as I’d known he would—work always came first to Dane. “We’ll talk later,” he said to me.

I nodded, though I wasn’t whatsoever looking forward to it.

Fortunately, he got called out of the office and didn’t return to the building before the end of the workday. That meant I could leave and spend the evening shoring up my defenses against this man who’d sneakily found his way around them without even trying or knowing.

I was almost home when Ashley called and asked if I’d meet her at the local ice cream parlor—apparently, Tucker had pissed her off again and so she’d stormed out of their apartment.

Inside the parlor, we sat at one of the metal tables. A few other customers sat around, filling the space with the sounds of chatter, laughter, and the crunch of ice cream cones.

I licked at my caramel ice cream, scooping up some of the chopped nuts and crumbled cookies that had been sprinkled over the top. Smooth and cold, the ice cream went down nicely. “Well, what did Tucker do?”

Ashley’s lips thinned. “We sat down to catch up on a TV series we’ve been following. He started ‘guessing’ what was going to happen. The first time he was right, I was impressed. The second time, I was suspicious. The third time, I was out and out pissed, because I knew it meant that the asshole had watched the episodes without me.”

I winced. “Oh.”

“He denied it at first. Said he’d never do that to me. But when I threatened to shred his football jersey with a blade if he didn’t tell me the truth, he admitted he’d watched the rest of the series while I went to church with my mother on Sunday. What kind of sick person does that?”

Actually, I’d done it to Melinda a time or two, but I didn’t say that. “Did he apologize?”

“No. He said I was overreacting. Overreacting would have been to ream his ass with my hair straighteners—don’t think I didn’t consider it.” Ashley licked at her chocolate ice-cream. “You still so sure he loves me?”

“Yes, I am. He did an unfair thing. He’s no doubt feeling shitty about it now.”

“And so he should,” sassed Ashley. “So, how are things going with you and your spectacularly hot boss?”

Ignoring the way my stomach dropped, I took another lick of my ice-cream. “Good.”

“You fucked him yet?”

“What do you think?” I asked with a wicked smile that made her laugh.

“I’m betting he’s well-endowed. He gives off that big cock vibe.”

I frowned. “Big cock vibe?”

“He walks like a man who’s fully secure in himself about that department.” She narrowed her eyes. “What’s with the look on your face?”

I blinked. “What look?”

“The one that says something’s bugging you. You weren’t wearing it until I brought up Dane. What happened? You two had a falling out?”

“No. Everything’s fine.”

“Girl, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing.” I licked at the drips of ice cream that were running down my waffle cone, hoping she’d drop the subject.

“Are you worrying that you’ll never come first to him, what with him being a workaholic? Because I would.”

I almost laughed. Dane’s work would always come first—I knew that for a fact. Still, I vaguely answered, “Most workaholics struggle to balance work with other aspects of their lives.”

“True, but he’s already put you before his work. I mean, you told me long ago that he doesn’t get involved with his employees. He broke that rule for you. I don’t think he’d do that if he didn’t care for you.” She used a napkin to wipe at the ice cream that had dripped down her chin. “I’ll find out if I’m right when I see you two at the barbecue. I bumped into Melinda and managed to wangle myself an invite.”

My lips twitched. Ashley did that shit all the time. She seemed to know everybody.

“I’ll watch him with you, and I’ll tell you what I see,” Ashley went on. “I do hope Hanna’s wrong and he’s not a psychopath. You don’t want one of those in your bed.”

“You’ve been talking to Hanna about this?” I’d introduced them a few years ago, and they got along like a house on fire.

“She’s excited about you and Dane, but she’s also worried that he’ll hurt you due to him not having a conscience and all.”

“I think I’ll be fine. And I don’t believe he’s a psychopath.”

“She said you’d say that. She also said to remind you that you thought that Raymond was ‘sweet.’ You know, the same Raymond who stole your wallet and maxed out your credit card when you dumped him.”

“You two are never going to let me forget about that, are you?”

“Nope. What true friend would?”

I snorted.

Once we were finally done with our ice cream, we drove back to our complex in our respective vehicles. Entering the parking lot, I noticed a familiar car parked outside the building. Hell. This was not what I needed right now.

Ashley didn’t notice Dane until she and I walked toward the main door. He’d obviously noticed my arrival because he’d exited his vehicle and was now leaning against it.

Ashley put her mouth to my ear and quietly said, “I don’t know what you two have been squabbling over—purely because you won’t tell me—but go sort it out.”

“Are you going to take your own advice and make up with Tucker?” I asked.

She sniffed. “Maybe.”

Instead of following her into the building, I took a preparatory breath and walked over to Dane. “What are you doing here?” I asked, though not unkindly.

He pushed away from the car. “I told you we’d talk later.”

I scratched my forehead. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Because I figured the best way to not blur any lines between us in my head would be to only see him at work or when we were on our fake dates. I was on my time now, and there was no need for him to be inside my apartment.

He stepped into my personal space and stared down at me. “You’re pulling away. Are you planning to go back on your word?”

I lifted my chin. “No, I wouldn’t do that. I’ve told you that before.”

My cell beeped. Glad for the distraction, I dug my phone out of my purse.

It was a text message from Freddie: Code red.

My whole body seized up. Shit. I raced to my car, jabbing the button on the key fob to unlock it, ignoring Dane’s shouts. I hopped into the driver’s seat and, without another look his way, sped out of the parking lot.

As I drove en route to my father’s house, my heart thudded hard in my chest. A code red situation could be anything from Simon having an anxiety attack to him cutting himself again. The latter occurrences didn’t happen often. But when they did, they could be bad.

Before long, I was speeding down my father’s street. The tires screeched as I brought the car to a sharp stop outside his house. I jumped out of the vehicle and rushed for the door, cursing when I dropped my keys halfway up the driveway. I bent and snatched them—

A hand grabbed my arm and spun me. Dane. “What’s happening?” he asked.

I blinked, surprised to see him. “You need to go.” I tried pulling my arm free, but he held tight.

“What’s going on? You’re white as a fucking sheet, and you’ve just been driving around the streets like the hounds of hell were on your tail.”

I shook my head. I didn’t have time for this. “I can’t do this right now. Just go. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me—”

“Fucking go, Dane.” I tore my arm out of his grip. “This is not your business.” I raced up the steps, unlocked Simon’s front door and then hurried inside.

Closing the door behind me, I called out, “Dad?” No response. I peeked into the living room. It was empty, but the TV was on. “Dad?” I again shouted. Still nothing.

I stalked into the kitchen and skidded to a halt. He was sitting on the tiled floor, his eyes squeezed shut, his hands fisting his thick dark hair.

I crouched in front of him. “Dad, what’s wrong?”

He awkwardly lifted his head and blinked. I realized he hadn’t acknowledged my arrival until right then. He’d been deep in his thoughts. In his memories. That was never good.

“Dad, what happened? And why is one side of your face pink?”

He touched his cheek. “I fell asleep at the table and …” He trailed off and squeezed his eyes shut.

I took in the dark smudges under his eyes. “You haven’t been sleeping well. Did you have a nightmare just now?” I asked carefully, knowing how badly they could mess with his head.

He shuddered. “I can’t stop seeing it, seeing her.”

There was only one woman he spoke of with such vehemence—his mother. “Dad, open your eyes, look at me.” I gently tugged his hands away from his hair. “Please look at me.”

His eyes fluttered open, and they looked so sad my chest ached.

“You’ve been working on your memories in therapy again?”

He only nodded.

I inwardly cursed. I knew it was important for him to unearth certain memories and face the abuse he suffered at the hands of his mother, but I hated the toll it took on him. Especially since it often led to him having vivid, horrific nightmares. Then he’d be so afraid to go to sleep that he’d lay awake for hours most nights.

There were times when he’d recover a memory so sickening, he simply couldn’t take it. Then the anxiety attacks would come back, or he’d start cutting himself again.

I didn’t say how much I hated what the therapy sessions did to him, though. The therapy was important, and I needed to be supportive of it.

I rubbed his arm. “How about I make us some tea?”

“No tea. I just want to be alone.”

“No, you don’t.” I tugged on his arm as I stood, and he finally pushed to his feet. “You just don’t want to talk about your nightmare. That’s fine. We don’t have to talk. We can just sit together at the table, and you can watch me drink tea. You know how riveting that is.”

He took a seat at the scarred wooden table. “I’m fine now.”

“Of course you are. But now that I’m here, I might as well stay a while.” I grabbed the kettle, filled it with water from the tap, set it down on the—

There was a bang behind me, like the chair had hit the wall.

“Who the hell are you?” demanded Simon.

I whirled. Dane stood in the kitchen doorway. Shit. How had he gotten inside the house?

I slipped between them. “It’s okay, Dad. This is Dane. My boss. I told you about him on the phone, remember?” He didn’t look at me. He kept staring at Dane, his eyes wide, his breaths coming fast. “Dad?”

“You must be Simon,” said Dane, all politeness. “I’ve heard much about you from Vienna.”

Ha, lie.

Simon’s eyes flickered, pain flashed across his face, and his head twitched slightly. Then the alarm slid from his expression and was replaced by pure arrogance. His posture changed in an instant. He held himself taller, steadier, like the world and everything in it was beneath him. He looked down at me, and my stomach sank.

I swallowed. “Hello, Deacon.”