Chapter Thirteen
Laughter filled the backyard of the lodge that had been fully decked out for annual Holloway barbeque.
Despite this supposedly being an ‘intimate’ family barbecue there had to have been almost a hundred people filling the space, milling around and engaging in the mind-numbing small talk that I had been doing my best to avoid all afternoon.
People usually ignored my presence entirely thanks to my Secret Service uniform. During my day to day I was basically a piece of decor to these people, only meant to come to life in case of an emergency to save them from impending doom.
But right now? Now that I was standing next to my grandfather who seemed to know every single person at this party and had been waiting for the perfect moment to show me off?
Now I was in pure hell.
“Oh come now, Maverick,” Philip Onassis said in his Greek accent, still thick despite decades of living in the states. “Try not to look like such a thundercloud.”
“Tell me again why I couldn’t just wear my regular suit?” I asked, as he gave the back of my neck a slap.
Upon his arrival to Camp David this morning he’d brought me a pair of linen slacks and a collared blue polo that he had insisted be buttoned up all of the way.
“Because it is not often I get to show my grandson to all of my friends, Maverick, so I want you to look nice,” my grandfather answered, clearly pleased as hell with himself.
“Besides, your mother actually picked that outfit out herself, so unless you want me to tell her how much you hated it I suggest you, as the Americans say, perk up, buttercup.”
“That’s not how you say that, Pappou,” I corrected, already surrendering to the man’s whims, just as I had for the past thirty years of my life and as I probably would continue to do for the foreseeable future.
“Pah,” my grandfather said, waving his hand through the air as he made a noise deep in his throat. “The meaning is still there.”
I just shook my head.
My mother was a saint to put up with both him and my father for so long, so if she wanted me to wear the damned linen pants, then I would. I’d just add it onto the list of weird shit that was happening to me and my team this weekend.
Zeke was standing across the yard with his own family. The Adams clan had shown up in force, dressed like a bunch of GAP models as they schmoozed like professionals with the other partygoers.
Even Zeke looked like he fit right in as he laughed at whatever an older woman was saying to him. His ability to charm had made him irreplaceable on our team, but I also knew that it took a lot out of him to do in situations like this.
We’d been friends since high school and Zeke liked nothing more than to curl up on his own after a day of socializing and recharge his battery. I was pretty sure he called it something like an introverted extrovert.
My gaze shifted away from Zeke and his perfect family to Dallas and Brooks who were both hovering awkwardly on the outskirts of the party, each nursing a beer.
After Lennon’s outburst yesterday, Farrow Holloway had insisted they have the day off and that they be a part of the barbecue despite their protests.
The old man seemed to be testing them—or at least testing just how close they were to his granddaughter.
How close we were, I mentally corrected as I took a swig of my own beer.
I should have known that him walking in on us mid-argument the night of the car accident would come back to bite us in the ass.
There wasn’t anything that could get past Farrow’s all-seeing gaze and I also knew that inviting my grandfather and Zeke’s father, chess friends or not, and giving us the weekend off was also some kind of play on his part.
And that play seemed to be happening at the center of the party near where the massive grills were set up and Farrow was holding court in a ‘kiss the cook’ apron.
Lennon and the rest of her family were there with him and she was dressed in a white dress that made even her pale skin look sun-kissed as she listened to her grandfather regale the crowd around him with stories from his youth.
A crowd that included the vice president, Frank Delano, and the rest of his pack that were standing far too close to Lennon for my inner alpha’s liking.
“Come,” my grandfather gestured for us to join.
“Do we have to?” I asked, reluctantly following along.
He shot me a look of pure grandfatherly disdain. “Who did I insult in another life to be cursed with such an antisocial grandson? Come, Maverick, let me show you off and please try to smile for me.”
“I make no promises,” I muttered as I was pulled to join the crowd, right up next to Zeke who slanted a commiserating glance at me.
“Nice pants,” he teased quietly. “Did your mom buy them for you?”
“Nice sweater,” I shot back, nodding at the sweater tied around his shoulders. “But the GAP called and wants it back.”
He just gave me a toothy grin as he bumped me with his shoulder.
“You both look ridiculous,” Dallas said as he and Brooks both sauntered up, probably feeling it was safe now that we were together.
Zeke gave him a playful shove. “Thanks, man, we love you too.”
“You know,” Brooks murmured, his eyes on the group at the center of the crowd we were in. “This isn’t half-bad. I can’t remember the last time I’ve gotten to go to a barbecue.”
Dallas gave a sarcastic snort and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it was real generous of him to give us the day off.”
My grandfather, hearing Dallas’s comment, leaned back to shoot Dallas a quelling look, his bushy eyebrows twitching. “Hush, young man. Don’t think I won’t scold you just because you’re just my grandson’s friend. I am, as you say, an equal opportunity grandfather.”
“Sorry,” Dallas mumbled, at least having the decency to look ashamed as my grandfather turned back to listen.
Brooks leaned over to his twin, grinning as he whispered something into his ear that caused Dallas to elbow him in the ribs.
I would have told them to knock it off and behave, but my eyes were too busy focusing on what was happening to Lennon.
At first she’d been standing in between her mother and grandmother, but at some point her grandfather had drawn her forward to help him flip the giant rack of ribs on the grill.
“The strongest little lady you’ll ever meet,” he boasted loudly as people laughed. “My Lennie is worth ten of your grandsons, and I’d put money on that.”
“I’ll take that bet,” someone hollered from the crowd. “My grandson’s been looking for a spunky gal like her.”
Lennon’s cheeks filled with color as she glared down at the meat and the urge to stomp through the crowd and wrap my arms around her rode up the back of my neck.
“She isn’t interested,” Lennon shot back loudly, her voice wobbling with indignation.
“That’s right,” Frank Delano called from where he was reclining on a nearby picnic table with his pack. “Lennon Holloway has more pedigree in her pinky finger than any of those tomcat grandsons of yours.”
The other men in the crowd laughed good naturedly at the jab, Farrow Holloway even joining in, but Lennon wasn’t laughing.
I watched as she narrowed her gray eyes at the older alpha like she wanted to fling the massive tongs she had in her hand at his head.
But instead, an idea seemed to pop into her head and she slipped her hand down until she knocked the bowl full of barbecue sauce that had been meant to baste the ribs… right onto her dress.
“Oh shoot!” she said loud enough for everyone to hear, pasting a bright smile on her face. “I’m just so clumsy. Guess I better go change.”
With that she whirled on her heel and stomped out of the backyard, followed by her grandmother.
People were silent for a moment before people began to shout at Farrow to tell them some story about a filibuster he’d taken part in during the nineties and the old man jumped into his story without waiting another moment.
I stepped backward, ignoring the pointed looks shot at me by the other guys, and followed in the direction Lennon and her grandmother disappeared into.
It wasn’t hard to find them. They were sitting in the kitchen, Lennon’s grandmother dabbing at the probably ruined white dress with a dishtowel. I hovered just outside of the doorway, out of sight and unsure if I should intrude on them yet.
“Did you have to pick barbecue sauce, sweetheart?” Bunny Holloway was asking sardonically as she rinsed the towel again. “I spent weeks looking for this dress for you.”
“Sorry,” Lennon said sheepishly as she leaned against the counter and hung her head, watching her grandmother work. “I panicked.”
Bunny was silent for a moment, the silvery strands of her hair falling into her eyes as she gave up completely and tossed the towel onto the counter. “Well, dresses can be replaced I suppose. Now, why did you feel the need to dump a bowl of marinade on yourself in front of all of those people?”
Lennon looked at Bunny as if she’d grown a second head. “Grandma. Those people were treating me like a prized calf up for auction. Might as well have thrown myself onto the grill to be served up at the buffet with the way they were talking about me.”
“Oh, Lennon, you know they didn’t mean anything by it. They’re boastful old men trying to outdo each other and ingratiate themselves to your Grandpa. It’s the same song and dance as usual.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not usual for the vice president to make comments like that about me,” Lennon pointed out, her tone wobbling as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t like it.”
Bunny let out a long sigh and I watched as she flipped around to lean against the counter next to her granddaughter, drawing Lennon’s head down until it rested on her shoulder.
“You know your Grandpa just wants what’s best for you, right?”
“And that’s Frank Delano and his pack?” Lennon asked incredulously, her nose scrunching with distaste.
Bunny huffed a dry laugh. “I never said he was right, sweetheart. Your grandfather is nothing if not a complicated man. He might think that Delano can take care of you and that he’s the best one to step up and ask to court you.”
Lennon reeled back away from her grandmother. “So he asked? And no one told me? What the hell, Grandma!”
“No one told you because your mother’s already told him no, Lennon,” Bunny said, unruffled by Lennon’s sudden outburst.
“Oh.”
“Oh is right. She wants you to pick the pack that’s right for you, and so of course, my lovely husband got it in his head that maybe putting Delano on the same campaign trail would, ah, ingratiate Delano to you. I can assume that didn’t work?”
I held in a snort at that. Delano had hovered everywhere we’d gone until the bus broke down and he’d taken a flight to Atlanta rather than hanging back to wait for the tire to be fixed.
That definitely hadn’t won him any favors in Lennon’s book nor in any of my team’s.
Dallas was outward with his hatred for the vice president, but I could tell the other two felt about the same about the plastic-smiling politician that we’d been saddled with for the first leg of the election tour.
“No. Definitely not. He’s too old for me,” Lennon said with a shudder.
The older woman’s laugh was bright. “I told Farrow you would say that, sweetheart, and he said ‘what does age have to do with it?’”
“You should pick what feels right in your head,” Bunny tapped Lennon’s temple, then her chest, “and what feels right in here. Trust those instincts of yours, Lennon. I know modern society spends so much time teaching omegas to ignore those instincts but there’s a reason they developed in the first place thousands of years ago. ”
“I’m not really looking for—” Lennon began but her grandmother cut her off.
“I think you should probably wait to speak on that until our guest listening in shows himself.”
I stiffened, surprised at being found out by the older woman.
For a split second, I debated tucking tail and running back outside. Maybe I could pretend that I hadn’t heard a thing. But something told me that there wasn’t a chance in hell that Bunny Holloway was going to let me get away with that.
Embarrassed, I finally took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen.