“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration.”
“Then he told me there was only one good thing about me. He ripped up the reports I’d gathered for him and threw them on the floor. He said, and I quote, you’re supposed to relieve my stress.”
“Ms. Anderson.” Her tone is mildly scolding, like I should be embarrassed to repeat his words. “I can’t be sure of exactly what happened, because I wasn’t there. It’s impossible to say what your role in the situation was. Some employers respond poorly if you’re dressed inappropriately, for example.” My face burns with rage I can’t let out. I can’t believe this woman. And I can totally believe her. “But actually, I was calling because of an unusual circumstance. It’s highly irregular, and it’s against our policies to move people mid-contract, but we do have another position for you.”
My anger vanishes, replaced by sheer relief and a wild gratefulness that this woman doesn’t deserve. “Really?”
“Yes. I’m sending the information to your email address. You’ll report in on Monday morning.”
“Thank God.” I sag against the wall. “Thank you. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You’re welcome, Ms. Anderson. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
The twins’ bedroom door flies open, and Mia and Ben fly out, both of them wearing their backpacks. Sean emerges from the bathroom at the same time, rubbing his hair with a towel. “A tactical approach to the zoo. Nice.”
Mia purses her lips. “Doesn’t a tactical approach mean that we should be on time? Let’s go.”
Sean bursts out laughing. “I didn’t realize our timetable was that tight. Is there time to tie my shoes?”
“Not much.” Ben’s only half-kidding, I think. The timetable with Sean is always tight. You never know when the clock will run out. “You have to hurry.”
“Yeah.” Mia tugs at Sean’s shirt, rushing him to the door. “While you’re doing that, we can tell you about the time we got held hostage.”
Sean shoots me a what the fuck look. I give him a weak smile. Mia’s not lying, and neither was I. The man who saved us is gone.
4
WILL
I’ve always been destined for the kind of life that, if I told the story, would result in people raising their eyebrows and saying what the fuck either silently or out loud. When it came to normalcy, my brothers and I never had a prayer. I should be used to bizarre shit happening.
I didn’t see Emerson’s birthday party coming.
He’s never liked parties, and not in the faux-modest way that some people brush off birthdays. Holidays aren’t his favorite for additional reasons beyond the usual ones. I’d have put a birthday party outside his house in the impossible column.
And yet we’re here, in Leo fucking Morelli’s house, on Emerson’s birthday.
Now that the dinner portion of the event is over, Daphne’s watching a movie in the den with Leo’s sister, Eva, and his wife, Haley, who’s incredibly pregnant. I thought they were joking about Leo carrying her everywhere, but they weren’t. Emerson told us she’s on bed rest because she fainted at her baby shower. He delivered this news without any sign of panic, which was surprising given his reaction to Daphne’s announcement, which is still a secret.
“Play cards,” Daphne ordered from the library door once we’d settled in at the table. “Get a little drunk, maybe.” She tried to look serious and scary, but she can’t. “I mean it.”
Which is how I came to be sitting at a fancy-ass card table in Leo Morelli’s huge library, slightly drunk. Sin and Leo sit across from one another, buzzed at minimum. And Emerson sits across from me, definitely drunk. I can tell because his face is relaxed. He doesn’t look at all like he’s waiting for someone to stab him.
“—realism, because technique alone doesn’t explain the resonance of the piece. It’s also the play between imagination and reality. The world that is, and the world that could be.” He flips a card down onto the table. “That’s how art changes everything.”
“Jesus Christ.” Leo presses a knuckle to the corner of his eyes and lays down a card. “Who knew getting you drunk would be so enlightening?”
Emerson peers at him. “Are you crying?”
“It was a moving speech. Fuck off.”
“This is why I never get drunk. It brings people to tears.” I’ve lost track of how much Emerson’s had tonight, but anybody else would’ve fallen out of their seat by now. Drunk Emerson doesn’t lose his balance. He gives his opinions on art instead. It’s rare for his guard to be this far down. He usually keeps himself so removed that he might as well be in a different solar system.
It’s my turn. I play my card.
Sin looks at the cards in his hand. “Show him what else, Em.”
“No.” Emerson plays his next card.
“Do it for me.” My vision is a little blurry, but not so blurry that I’ll miss this.
Emerson arches an eyebrow at me. “Isn’t it my birthday?”
“Yeah,” I agree. Leo’s sister did not pour light. I normally don’t order sweet, sparkly bullshit, but this is good. I take another sip. “We gave you presents. You love us. Do it.”
“Do what?” Leo’s amused. We met him for the first time after an incident with Emerson and our dad that involved Emerson driving his SUV into a van full of men who had taken Daphne. Leo was the one who called us from the scene using Emerson’s phone. This is Leo Morelli. Don’t hang up. First thing you need to know is that your brother is alive. I expected the Beast of Bishop’s Landing, which is what everyone calls him in the papers and on the Internet. Guy’s an asshole, but he’s not an animal. He’s a hell of a lot more civilized than me.
Emerson’s proof of that. I’ve only seen him this calm in his own house. That doesn’t happen unless a person makes an effort. And his brother-in-law—my brother-in-law? I don’t know—has clearly made an effort. He knows all the little things.
For instance, when we walked in the door with Emerson and Daphne, Leo greeted him by casually rattling off a list of everyone who was already in the house, though it was only Eva and Haley. Then he moved on to which servers would be handling dinner. And then he directed Gerard, his head of security, to make sure Emerson’s driver, Logan, was comfortable. From the way Emerson’s shoulders let down, this is what always happens at Leo’s house. No surprises, which Emerson also hates.
My brother almost never mentions these preferences to other people. I’m glad for him. And jealous, if I’m honest. I couldn’t change that much if I tried.
“Do him,” I tell Emerson, lifting my chin at Leo.
Sin coughs, hiding a grin.
“You motherfuckers,” Leo says genially. “It’s rude to keep a person in suspense after they’ve asked a question.”
“Christ, darling. Is that your idea of asking nicely?” Emerson says.
If Leo had been watching, he’d have seen what Emerson was doing. It didn’t look like anything when he started. All the subtle shifts in his body added up to Leo’s exact straight-backed posture. Emerson looks up from his cards and narrows his eyes, and it’s Leo’s expression, too. From the way Leo stares, the words are dead on.