7. Casey

Chapter 7

Casey

What had started as a quiet day at Westbrook Meadows had spiraled into an awkward lunch with me, Betsy, Logan, Henry, and the Mercers. The air was tinged with unspoken agendas and forced pleasantries. It was like watching people cautiously walk through a minefield.

The Mercers had arrived, per Logan’s invitation, saying he wanted to smooth over the relationship and allow them to be a positive influence in Henry’s life.

I admired and respected Logan’s ambitions to involve Henry’s maternal grandparents. But the truth was, spending time with the Mercers was simply awful.

The uncomfortable tension that filled the air lingered throughout their entire visit, never dissipating for a moment.

The table was immaculately set by Martin. There were fresh lilies in the center, beautiful china, and gleaming silverware.

Henry scrolled obliviously on his phone, while Logan poured himself another glass of wine as if bracing for what was about to come.

Helen Mercer leaned forward, the light from the chandelier reflecting off her diamond bracelet.

“Henry, dear,” she said, “your grandfather and I have a little surprise for you.”

“Okay?” Henry said, looking up from his phone with a confused expression.

Robert pulled a sleek velvet box from his pocket and flicked it open to reveal a luxury watch.

It was absolutely stunning. By far the nicest watch I’d ever seen.

The watch face sparkled with encrusted diamonds. The band was gold; gleaming as if polished to sheer perfection.

Betsy cleared her throat and raised one disapproving eyebrow. “That’s a six-figure watch.”

If anyone knew a luxury watch’s value at first glance, it was Betsy.

My jaw dropped but I quickly picked it up, hoping no one noticed.

The lifestyles of the wealthy never ceased to amaze me. Completely and utterly out of my league.

The watch was extravagant and wildly inappropriate for a teenager.

Helen grinned with a smug look. “Pretty much on par with the six-figure Cadillac I hear Henry drives.”

Betsy scoffed. “I’ll have you know I was duped into buying that overpowered sports car, which I mistakenly assumed was a boring sedan, and I am entirely annoyed about it.”

She fired a knowing look at Henry.

“Furthermore,” Betsy added, “the Cadillac now belongs to me, and Henry is currently driving the pickup truck we use for hauling mulch around here.”

Funnily enough, Betsy spoke the truth. As a punishment for the speeding incident, Betsy had forced Henry to drive a filthy—and sometimes reeking after hauling manure—pickup truck back and forth to school.

Meanwhile, Betsy had insisted that I accompany her on a number of late-night speed rides around Charleston in the passenger seat of the stunning Cadillac speedster which now belonged to her.

Our joyrides had actually turned into fun bonding experiences for both of us, and Betsy had more than ever made me feel a part of the family.

I knew Betsy’s punishment for Henry wouldn’t last long; after all, she was a big softie inside.

But not today. Not when faced with the Mercers.

“Whoa,” Henry said, reaching out to grab the watch. “That’s cool.”

Logan frowned, shaking his head. “That’s unnecessary.”

Helen ignored Logan’s comment.

Instead, she beamed at Henry, “It’s actually a limited edition; one of only three in the world. Now you own it.”

Betsy swirled her glass of brandy, leaning back in her chair at the head of the table. Her southern voice was laced with sarcasm. “Well, that is so thoughtful,” she drawled. “Nothing says stable upbringing like giving a teenager a watch that costs more than most people’s houses.”

Helen frowned at Betsy’s remark and fired back, “We simply believe he deserves the best.”

The clink of Logan’s glass caught my attention as he set it on the table. “What Henry deserves—in fact, what he needs—is guidance and support. He does not need extravagant bribes.”

Helen pursed her lips. “Bribes? That’s a very strong word, Logan. We are simply showing our grandson that we care.”

Betsy interjected, her eyes twinkling. “Care, huh? Funny how that looks like guilt from where I’m sitting.”

Helen’s demeanor altered. “We’re here because we’re concerned about Henry’s environment. Certain things have changed…”

Helen looked at me with disdain in her eyes. “A boy his age needs structure,” she added.

Logan’s response was fast and firm. “And Henry gets that here with me.”

“Logan, can you be sure about that?” Robert asked, leaning forward. “The press hasn’t exactly painted this household in the best light recently.”

Logan’s face went dark, and I felt my stomach tighten.

Betsy smiled sweetly. “Oh yes, the press. I always forget you two are such avid readers of the tabloids. How quaint.”

Finally, Helen’s mask of politeness disappeared completely. “This isn’t about the tabloids, Betsy. This is about stability and what’s best for Henry.”

Logan scoffed. “And you think a six-figure watch is what’s best for him?”

Helen shook her head. “What’s best for Henry is raising him in an environment that’s not filled with…”

She looked at me again. “Questionable influences.”

I had no idea why Helen Mercer harbored such hatred for me when we’d barely exchanged two words. Still, the pointed edge in her tone made it clear that she had a bone to pick.

Logan stood up abruptly. His chair scraped the floor, surprising me.

“Helen,” he said, “if you have something to say, say it.”

Helen held up her hands as if she was innocent, then gestured toward the overpriced watch. “I’m just saying maybe it’s time to consider who’s best suited to give Henry the life he deserves. Robert and I have been saving money for years.”

Betsy scoffed with confidence. “Helen, darling, if we’re discussing suitability based on bank balances, let’s just say I’ve bought yachts that cost more than your net worth combined.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “How would you possibly know anything about our finances?”

Betsy sipped her brandy casually. “Three million, last I checked. Or was it four? Forgive me, the numbers are so… understated, they barely register.”

Robert’s jaw dropped open. “Are you kidding me, Betsy? Of course you’d use your shady connections to pry into our private finances. Have you no sense of decency?”

Betsy poured herself another glass as she added, “For two readers of the tabloids such as yourselves, you’ll already know my net worth was pegged at six-hundred-million.”

The room was suddenly silent.

Logan was obviously furious; his fists were clenched at his side.

“Again,” Helen said through clenched teeth, “our primary concern is Henry.”

Betsy broke the tension with an icy laugh. “Oh, Helen, do you really think anyone is fooled by this act? If you’re such a concerned grandparent, where were you the last two years?”

Robert’s voice cut through the room. “We’ve given you time to adjust, Logan. Time to grieve. We can’t sit back and watch anymore.”

Logan looked at them with fire in his eyes. “Henry is my son. You don’t get to come in here and question my parenting.”

“We’re not questioning,” Helen said with a dramatic sigh. “We’re preparing… for what comes next.”

Logan’s face was as hard as steel. “What exactly does that mean?”

Helen stood up and looked down at Logan, smoothing her skirt. “It means you’ll be hearing from us soon.”

Helen turned and looked at Henry with a forced sweet smile. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

Robert followed directly behind her, but first he placed the watch box on the table in front of Henry.

Robert turned and looked at Logan. “Think about it. We only want what’s best for Henry.”

The Mercers swept out of the room, leaving the rest of us sitting with the lingering tension.

“Well,” Betsy said with a sigh, “that was subtle.”

She looked at me and Casey, eyeing us both with a new fire in her eyes. “Time to prepare for war, boys.”