Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Vivian’s making it sound like she’s the host, and I’m more than a little pleased when her big introduction speech—one I’m sure she worked on before tonight—is interrupted by Gracie running in.
“Daddy!” she shouts, “Look what I got!”
She’s holding up her hand, fingers spread wide, to show off a pink bauble ring on her index finger.
To his credit, Cameron’s lips lift into the first true smile I’ve seen on him and his shoulders drop by inches as his daughter climbs into his lap and gets right up in his face. “That’s beautiful, Gracie. Almost as beautiful as you.” He taps her nose, and she smiles happily in response to his compliment. “Do you want to have dinner with us or hang in the living room?”
The awareness that this type of fancy dinner party is probably boring to a kid is a pleasant surprise. I guess I thought Cameron would be all ‘sit down and be quiet, the grown-ups are talking’ with Grace, but he seems downright wrapped around his daughter’s finger.
“Can I have dinosaur nuggies in here?” she asks, dropping her chin and batting her lashes.
“Of course, you can,” Miranda answers for Cameron.
“Ooh, can I have one too?” Luna asks, joking with the little girl.
“Yum, me too!” I say, playing along. Hell, dino nuggies sound better than that crap Macrosine tried to pawn off on Chance and me. And given the fanciness of the Harrington home, I’m afraid I might need a McDonald’s stop on the way home again
But my comment triggers all hell to break loose as Grace realizes I’m here. “SAMANTHA!” Grace shouts at one hundred and twenty decibels before immediately diving under the table to get to me faster.
We all lean back, looking down to see Gracie crawling across the rug right toward me. “Hey, uh, Grace . . . you could’a just walked around the table, you know?” I say, grinning as she pops up beside me and wraps her arms around my neck tightly.
“Too slow and you need to see my ring,” she states as though the shortcut makes perfect sense now that she’s explained her reasoning.
She holds it up for my inspection, and I hum thoughtfully. “Pink diamond? Very pretty.”
“Pink sapphire,” she corrects even though the ring is obviously costume and not a real stone. Even the metal of the ring itself shines a bit too brightly, clearly cheap plating on an even cheaper base metal.
“I thought sapphires were blue,” Luna says.
Knowing more about everything than most adults, Gracie educates her. “Sapphires can be lots of colors, depending on the minerals where they grow.”
We nod along with her, not sure if she’s telling the truth or making shit up on the fly. It doesn’t matter either way. No one will call her on it.
“As I was saying—” Vivian says, trying again to get to her welcome speech.
This time, the swinging door to the kitchen opens and two staff walk out with plates of food in their hands.
Guess this dinner party is finally getting started . . . officially.
CHAPTER 22
CHANCE
I’m ready to leave.
We’re barely into our salad course and I’m fighting to stay in my seat when all I want to do is stand, take Samantha’s hand, and walk right out the front door.
But I don’t.
I don’t care as much about rules and expectations as I once did, but leaving mid-dinner would be rude. And secretly, I kinda want Samantha to see what she’s getting herself into. Because I intend for her to be at my side for every family dinner from here on out, especially after she smoothly put my grandfather in his place, charmed my grandmother, and had my back when I stood up to my father.
If only Aunt Vivian weren’t here, or would shut the hell up, it’d be perfect.
She’s going around the table, asking for the update on my siblings with a sneering, condescending frown on her face. She’s looking for bits of information, nuggets she can turn not into gold, but shade she can throw back at us.
I swear, Cameron could say that he’s being considered for the Nobel Peace Prize and she’d bitch about how it’s a political nightmare not nearly worth the gold it’s minted from. As it is, apparently, he’s still ‘riding on daddy’s coattails’, according to her.
“What about you, Cole?” Aunt Viv asks, zeroing in on her next ‘victim’. “I’ve lost track a little bit. What is it you’re doing?” Rather than sounding like a forgetful older woman, she manages to make it sound like what Cole’s doing is so utterly forgettable that she didn’t bother to remember.
“I’ve got a couple of irons in the fire,” Cole answers evasively.
Still, I wish he would answer because I think we’re all curious about him. He keeps everything secretive, and I honestly can’t tell you what my brother does, which is ridiculous. For all I know, he could be a day trader or a hitman, and I think he gets off on withholding that information from us. I don’t think Kayla even knows, and if anyone’s run a background check on their own family, it’s Kayla.