Chapter 28
KAEDE
“You sure about this?” Ross asks, eyeing me carefully.
I nod. “Yes. I’m furious, and my instinct is to go balls to the wall on Sanders, slashing and burning as we go. But that’s not the smart move. Your way is better, and no, I won’t repeat that so you can record it.”
Ross grins. “While I appreciate the vote of confidence, that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about you two.”
Ross inclines his head, gesturing to Courtney, who’s helping Violet cook dinner. By ‘help’, I mean she’s standing in the kitchen and sipping on a glass of wine. Violet would never let anyone actually touch her food or get close enough to figure out Nana’s recipes.
I look to my left, finding that Courtney has clued in to our conversation. She meets my eyes, and I see no doubts. There’s only love in her eyes. One life, one love, one Courtney.
“I love her.” Though I’m telling Ross, my eyes never leave hers and she knows I’m talking to her.
“I love him.” I know the same thing as she reassures her brother from across the room. “So shut the fuck up about it. It’s nun-ya, as in nun-ya-bizness.”
Violet sniffles, on the verge of tears again, and I hear her whisper, “So sweet.” She’s not talking about the lasagna.
Ross throws his hands up, looking to the heavens. “Finally! But that’s it? All this fucking grief, and I can’t even get ‘she had me at hello’ or details or something?”
I chuckle, but I’m scanning him for any sign of doubt, of anger, silently checking to see if he’s really good with us.
He sees me, knowing me just as well as I know him. “If I haven’t been clear enough with you yet, it’s simple. I’ve got two sisters . . . and one brother.”
That might sound a little weird given that I’m sleeping with his sister and he just called me his brother, but I get his meaning. We’re family, always have been.
Ross walks toward me, and I meet him halfway, hugging him. No bro hug, none of that one-arm, slap on the back bullshit. This is a hug, and there’s no shame in it.
Because he is my brother.
No doubts, no nerves, no insecurities. They simply fade into the mist. Not completely gone, because they’re more about my own internal insecurities, but I think with Courtney by my side, I’m going to always feel ten feet tall and bulletproof.
And if the doubts return and the questions in my mind get loud, I know Court and Ross will help me through them because we can talk about this stuff now.
That’s what family does—help one another.
Either that or kick each other’s ass, but I think the result would be the same . . . that I feel accepted. Loved.
Enough.
“I don’t know anyone else good enough for my baby sister,” Ross says, as emotional about this as I am.
“Hey, I’m getting in on this action,” Courtney says, and suddenly, our hug becomes a three-way.
“Take care of my boy, Court,” he tells her, and I can’t help but smile.
Ross has always been a pivot point for us, the one who brought us together, and in a way, the one who kept us apart.
But now that I know he’s not just okay with me and Court but is actually happy for us, it’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
No, like a truck, because that fucker was heavy.
Violet joins in too. “Don’t make me cry. I don’t have time for lasagna and redoing my makeup.”
Courtney reaches to a bowl on the counter and unwraps a piece of chocolate. “Open.” Violet does as commanded and eats the candy with that wiggle of happiness all women do when you feed them good food.
“Just to be clear . . . we’re not telling Archie that you’re my brother,” Ross says as Violet heads back to her lasagna.
“Agreed.”
We fist bump on that, and I draw us back to the issue of the evening. “Let’s go over everything again. One more time.”
And we do, discussing our meeting with Morgan, our plan with all the various chess pieces and how they might move, and what our returning play will be.
Facing Morgan Andrews with this whole fake engagement thing had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done.
I fully expected him to walk over to the twin swords he keeps on the walls of his library, pull one off, and try to gut me with it.
But instead, he’d welcomed me with a smile.
He didn’t even let me apologize but just sat me down and told me a story.
He talked about the importance of family and mistakes he made as both a businessman and a father, but it’s how he moved on from them that made all the difference.
I’ve heard about these. Ross used to complain about them, but I know what this one meant.
It was Morgan’s way of officially welcoming me to the family.
He even called me son and poured us glasses of his reserve whiskey.
It’s not official, though. Not yet. But soon, it will be . . . for real.
“This is lovely. Thank you for the invitation,” Jeffrey says as he comes in the door to Ross’s penthouse home.
Tonight’s a special night, with Jeffrey and Missy joining Ross, Violet, Courtney, and myself for what could end up being a very interesting dinner. It’s our plan to return the favor of his invitation and perhaps the surprise reveal as well.
Let’s just say there’s a reason that the place settings only have butter knives tonight. No sharps mean no blood. At least literally. Metaphorically, tonight is going to be an absolute, utter bloodbath.
“Only seemed fair to return the favor,” Ross says as he takes Missy’s purse and hangs it on the coat rack. “And thanks for clearing your calendars on such short notice.”
That’s one way to put it. The event and Jeffrey’s surprise were on Saturday.
Saturday night and half of Sunday were spent making love with Courtney and talking things through between us.
Sunday afternoon was the meeting with Morgan to discuss options and planning, with Ross gratefully accepting some guidance from his dad.
And only yesterday did we extend the invitation to Jeffrey and Missy.
In the last three days, my entire world has been thrown in the washer on spin, but instead of dizzy, I feel in control for the first time in a long time.
“My, something smells delicious,” Jeffrey says as he comes in. “I don’t think I’ve smelled Italian this good since I had dinner at Massimo Bottura’s.” Instead of sounding complimentary, it seems like a way to name drop the fancy restaurant.
“Thank you,” Violet says politely from the kitchen as she pours wine for everyone.
“Or I should say, my Nana thanks you since this is her secret recipe. I just hope I did it justice, though the presentation won’t have the panache of Chef Massimo’s.
” I forget sometimes how smooth Violet is, accustomed to dealing with her clients and their idiosyncrasies.
But I’m reminded when she handles Jeffrey with ease once again.
“I’m sure it’ll be wonderful.” Jeffrey looks at Missy expectantly.
“Yeah . . . smells good,” Missy says, obviously confused. She thinks she positioned her father perfectly, that she’s done enough to create drama and tear us apart . . . but then, why are we all smiles?
Patience, Kaede. Don’t get cocky too soon.
We settle in the living room, each of us with a glass of wine, though Violet has a wine glass of a low-sugar juice blend she recently discovered on a pregnancy forum. She drinks it by the bottleful now.
Jeffrey raises his glass for a toast. In Ross’s home, which irritates the hell out of me because even I know that’s a faux pas in Ross’s world. “A toast to new partners and family.” Jeffrey smiles and tips his glass back. “Ah, lovely vintage.”
“About Saturday,” Ross begins.
Jeffrey nods. “Quite the successful event, I think.”
Ross doesn’t agree or disagree but continues on his own one-track mind, playing each step as we planned. “It was an exceptional success, though I was surprised that you mentioned Violet and Courtney when we’d specifically said not to.”
I see the surprise on Jeffrey’s face and watch as his eyes tick to Missy and her brow lifts ever so slightly as she nearly imperceptibly shakes her head. It’s subtle, silent, and nearly instantaneous.
“Oh, dear. My sincerest apologies to you all then. I . . . well, I must have misunderstood. My mouth got carried away with all the excitement. I was so happy to see the One Life family and hopeful that we can grow into one family ourselves. I do hope you’ll accept my apology.
If there’s anything I can do, please say the word.
A bottle of champagne, perhaps? Melissa will send one tomorrow as the smallest token of my regret for any unintended consequences. ”
It’s a smooth apology, just humble and sheepish enough that most people would buy it. Especially partnered with a promise of an expensive apology gift.
We are not most people. It rather sounds like he’s accustomed to buying his way into and out of situations without having to actually be sorry in the slightest.
Though, I am surprised by how quickly he assessed that he had been given incorrect information, changed direction, and readily took the blame for the situation that Missy had cornered him into.
I file that away in a mental file drawer labeled Jeffrey Sanders Psychology for any future needs. Missy is his weak point. The father protecting the daughter.
Missy’s jaw clenches as Jeffrey apologizes and assigns her champagne-shipping duty dismissively.
It’s still a little too slick for my taste, but Courtney and Violet accept the apology, as do Ross and I. It’s only the opening act of tonight’s theatrical performance, but so far, we’re on track to bring the house down.
“What’s done is done,” Violet says lightly as she gets up. “There’s no going back now, is there? And I do think that timer means the lasagna is ready. Please, let’s move this to the dining table.”
We move to the table as instructed, with Violet refusing any assistance. She shoots Ross a wink, and I know she’s got her own plan.