The Socialite Commands The Troops
PHILOMENA
“ L ook, you bleached nimrods, we should drag him out by the braid and make him socialize. For the love of Versace, he’s going to forget how .”
I give everyone an irritated look, searching in my clutch for the bottle with the blue pills. Tiny purse, itty-bitty pills storage space and there are so many to store.
Sigh.
“Come on, Coco, you can’t force the man to be happy when he’s upset. The cat says he’s adjusting. It’s worse for him because the hot rod wasn’t the problem, only the teeny spark. He’s lost the one that seemed the sanest. That has to hurt.” Hex picks the chipped polish on his nails, and strolls back to the bathroom that he’s still finishing.
“He can’t paint and draw all day, every day, until the cat is home. She’s home less now than ever and he’ll get weird.”
I mean that. It’s not normal to hide in a cave and not process things.
At least, my programming says that. I care about my people, droid or not. They may be fashion challenged and socially inept, but my family is important. With our Queen distracted by the designer assassin, the Duchess has to keep the ranks in order.
“How about we take him to the beach? He likes the sound of the waves.”
Everyone’s eyes swivel to Victor. He doesn’t weigh in about the long-haired lothario since their falling out over the blogger, but we know that he cares. “That sounds like an idea. We can’t go to a public one without the right attire, though. It’s not like being in our backyard, hooligans.”
Leo rolls his eyes. “You mean everyone has to wear suits, yeah? We have suits.”
I arch a brow. “I know that, you idiot. Getting you to avail yourself of them is another story. We’ll need food and booze, too. Are you in charge of the comestibles?”
He nods and Hex yells from the other room. “I have the bloody towels and blankets in here. I’ll start packing up now!”
“We’ve got a plan, then. Are we taking along extra baggage or just ourselves?”
Siren smirks. “Are you asking if we are allowing guests to attend the outing? Perhaps your special friends or Hex’s erratic lover?”
Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “Honey, at least sound like you’re human. You have to learn contractions. Why the hell did they program you to be so infuriatingly proper?”
Victor shrugs. “Sonny boy and I had ideas about that. They haven’t come to fruition yet, but I see it moving in the right direction. She's a lady, which is something you’d know nothing about.”
“I would argue, but given the state of your own behavior, I find it redundant. I’d prefer not to spill my drink when I throttle you, dear old Pop.” My lips curl, purposefully reminding him that within this very house, most of us are his creations.
That fact means that he created his own demons.
“Christ, it’s downright chilly here when the cat’s away.”
We all look up the stairs, surprised to see the clone in question standing at the top, looking very much like he’s bathed today. That seems simple enough, but given where he’s been emotionally the past weeks, it’s a step.
“We’re jousting, lazy pants. We all enjoy a good verbal spar. You used to, too. Get your trunks. We’re all going to the beach.”
Rafe looks as if he’s going to protest, but with seven sets of eyes on him, he reconsiders. “Okay, but I’m bringing a sketch pad.”
Hex pops out of the bathroom with his packed up load and shakes his head. “No chance, you git. We’re running and baking and having a good time. Build a bloody sand dragon again. No moping around with a sketch pad.”
“Fine,” he sighs.
I smile. Perhaps I am doing a suitable job filling in the kitty’s paws.