Broken Prince
Page 39
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.”
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.”
