Chapter 15
SABLE
The guys stayed firmly by my side as we stepped out of the car, toward my parents' modest holiday home. In other words, ridiculously-oversized-mansion-that-was-unnecessary-unless-they-were-holding-a-big-event-like-this. (TM).
Right now, it was decorated with Christmas trees and glittering lights. Not to mention glittering people, tinkling glasses, and fake laughter.
Trying not to look around outside for Woody, I stepped over the threshold, past security and into the house.
"Sable, dear." My mother swept toward us in a gown so long it obscured her feet, giving her the appearance of gliding across the floor. She glanced at the clock as if we were late.
"Hi, Mom." I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, my lips barely touching her skin.
She gave me an air kiss in return, only her perfume touching me before her attention was distracted from me.
She raised her perfectly manicured eyebrows at Forrest. "Judge Cross." She made no attempt to hide her surprise.
"I told you I was bringing a date," I said, trying hard not to bristle.
"Indeed, I didn't expect someone so…"
Choose your next words carefully, I advised her silently.
She finished with, "Esteemed."
Good choice, until she dipped her eyelashes at him.
"Mrs. Kohl," Forrest said politely. He slipped a possessive arm around my waist. "It's nice to meet you. Let me introduce my friend, Leif Larsen."
He nodded toward Leif, who grinned like he was at a three-ring circus, and everyone here but us were the clowns. I hated clowns. They were creepy as hell. Although right then I felt more like a tightrope walker, which wasn't much of an improvement.
"Please call me Camilla," she said smoothly.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Leif." She smiled as though they were old friends.
"My friends have told me all about you. Perhaps you could give me a few tips on how to decorate this place?
" She phrased it as a question, but at the same time managed to insist.
"I'd be more than happy to," Leif said, offering her his arm. He started to chat with her about the things he saw as he led her away across the room, leaving Forrest and I to stand on the edge of the crowd.
On the outside looking in wasn't new for me. I suspected it was new for him, but he looked unconcerned. Of course he did. When did he not take things in his stride? I should learn to be as cool as he was.
"My father is over there." I nodded.
Benjamin Kohl stood near the fire, a glass of wine in one hand, regarding the room like he was a king surveying his lessers.
His hair was the same dark shade as mine but with a lot more grey these days.
He looked as though he hadn't shaved for a couple of days, which wasn't like him.
He was usually immaculate. Something must be going on for him to skip his routine, but his expression gave away nothing.
Forrest squeezed my hip, "It'll be okay. I'm right here with you."
I glanced over at him and nodded, offering him a faint smile before I started to make my way through the crowds.
They parted to make way for us. A few people muttered as we passed, but no one tried to stop us or engage us in conversation. Mostly the vibe was, 'what the hell is he doing with her?' Whatever, I didn't need their permission or opinions.
"Hi Daddy," I said, leaning in to kiss his stubbled cheek.
"There you are," he said, kissing me back. "I was surprised when your mother said you were going to be here tonight. I thought you were busy."
Only years of practice kept my thoughts from showing on my face. Of course that's what he'd believe. That was what she told him, wasn't it? That she invited me and I declined, not that she hadn't invited me at all.
"Change of plans," I said quickly. "How could I miss this?
" I gestured around the ornate room. There must be a couple of hundred people here, enjoying each other's company and drinking my parents' champagne.
Seeing and being seen. Making plans. Tolerating the company.
Probably hoping to get one or both of my parents alone at some point
"You've never been one for parties," he said.
The fact was, I didn't mind parties. I didn't like being put on display like some kind of doll or a decoration that belonged on the wall or sitting on the top of a tree.
I was no angel, that was for sure. Not a star either, unless we're referring to the pointy edges that'd cut you if you poked hard enough.
"Judge Cross," Dad greeted Forrest.
"Please, call me Forrest." He offered his hand.
"Benjamin." No one ever called him Ben. If anyone had, they might have ended up out in the ocean with weights on their ankles. Just a wild guess; they didn't call this place Saltgrave for nothing.
"I'm surprised you don't know each other," I said, looking from one man to the other.
"I know of him," my father said. "I don't believe we've officially met."
"We haven't," Forrest said. "It was past time we rectified that." He snagged a couple of glasses of champagne from a server who walked past with a tray, before handing one to me.
"There you go, sweetheart." At least he had a genuine smile for me.
"Thank you," I said, playing the part of meek girlfriend once again, only the gun pressing against my skin reminded me I was still a badass. I could use a bit of courage right now though.
I took a sip that was a little too big and went down the wrong hole.
Forrest placed a hand on my back and rubbed it gently while I coughed. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"I'm fine," I said, flapping a hand at him.
While I coughed a couple more times, my father spoke to Forrest. "Have you known my daughter for long?"
Thanks for giving a shit.
"A little while," Forrest said. "We've been dating for a few weeks now."
Did people say that these days? That they were dating? Whatever, my father would know what it meant. It was better than saying we were fucking each other. Or killing people together. Or working together to find out if he was up to no good.
"I see," my father said. "You two are an interesting combination."
What did he mean by that? That I wasn't good enough for Forrest? I didn't think he meant Forrest wasn't good enough for me, although it was possible he meant Forrest hadn't offered him money, or some other incentive, to give his approval yet.
"We're a very interesting combination, Daddy," I told him.
I didn't miss a faint smirk on Forrest's lips, possibly him hoping I'd call him daddy instead. Later.
"Forrest has been wonderful to me." I put an arm around him and smiled up at him sweetly.
I could almost see the wheels in my father's brain turning. Wondering what he could do with this. Having a judge in the family, in his pocket, he'd use that to his advantage if he could.
"I'm sure he has," he said smoothly. "Forrest, will you excuse me? I'd like to have a word alone with my daughter." He didn't wait for an answer. He grabbed my arm and pulled me through a door at the side of the room, down towards the back of the house, in the direction of his office.
"What are you doing?" I asked. "Careful, I don't want to spill my drink." I didn't give a shit about my drink. I was more worried about where he was taking me and why.
"Quiet," he snapped. He pushed me through the doorway, stepped in behind me and closed the door.
The office was dimly lit. The heavy desk sat near the window the same one I remembered from the last time I was here. Bookcases lined the walls. Also not new. The curtains were open onto a view of the moonlit beach, the waves lapping at the sand.
"Did I do something wrong?" I asked as sweetly as I could.
"Why are you here?" he asked. "I know your mother didn't invite you. She didn't think you'd want to come. Then out of the blue you call and ask for an invitation?"
He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms.
"Can a girl not attend her own parents' Christmas party?" I asked, dropping the mask a little. Did he really not want me here?
"You've never been interested before," he said. "You've always hated all of that." He gestured vaguely toward the door.
"The overt displays of wealth?" I asked. "Yeah, I've never been a fan. I don't see the point of it. Do you need all of that to impress the people here?"
"I don't," he said. "You know what your mother is like. If it's not too much, then it's not enough."
I snorted softly. That was the truth. My mother did OTT to the next level.
If people weren't talking about this party in two or three years' time, she hadn't worked hard enough.
That is to say, the people she hired to make the place pretty hadn't worked hard enough.
Either way, it would reflect on her, as far as she was concerned.
"Are you trying to say you don't enjoy it either?" I asked.
One of his shoulders rose slightly before dropping back down again. "It doesn't much matter to me. Keeping your mother happy is easier than having her be unhappy."
"Yeah, if she's pissed off, she'll let you know about it," I said dryly.
Were we having a real conversation here? I couldn't remember the last time that happened. Unicorns were more common.
"There's a lot we need to talk about," he said. "What happened with Wolfgang for one."
For a moment I thought he was going to apologize, but then he said, "That was disappointing for all concerned. You had it good with him, then he had to go and get himself killed."
I stared at him. Had it good with Wolfgang? Was he out of his mind, or did he just not know?
"He was horrible to me," I said in disbelief.
For half a second, I almost expected him to be sympathetic. To understand. To get angry at Wolfgang forever raising a hand to me.
Instead, he scoffed. "Don't be dramatic, Sable. He gave you everything you could want or need. I understand he's still giving it."
For a moment, I thought he was talking about Woody, but then I understood he was referring to Wolfgang's money. Money I didn't want. Not before and not now. I kept enough to make myself comfortable, but I'd given away so much of it already.
"There's more important things in life than money, or prestige, or power," I said.
He shook his head. "I always thought your mother was too soft with you. You have no idea about the real world, do you?"
It was my turn to scoff. "Have you stepped foot in the real world? It's not all Rolexes and Dom Perignon. It's about people giving a crap about other humans that share this planet. Do you understand any of that?"
"I understand I've been too soft on you," he said. "I thought the senator would have—"
"The senator?" I echoed. "What are you talking about? You knew?"
"Of course I knew," he said, as though nothing could be more obvious. "I also know the man out there was trying to sell you. Didn't you tell me Judge Cross was nice to you?"
How did he know all of this? I didn't have to pretend to be outraged, but I channelled it in a different direction, hoping he'd buy it.
"Forrest would never do that to me," I insisted.
"He did exactly that," my father said. "With my approval."
With my approval.
Those words took a couple of moments to sink in.
"How did you know what happened?" I asked, pretending I wasn't here for that information to start with. "What did you do?"
"That's none of your concern," he said. "Don't worry, you don't need to worry about seeing Judge Cross again. I have something else organized for you."
My blood froze.
He nodded at something behind me. I realized then the door had opened and someone stepped inside.