Chapter Sixteen
SIXTEEN
Rocky
Thirteen. That’s the number of side-eyes my dad has given me since we sat down for dinner. I’m waiting for one more so he doesn’t leave me on that unlucky fucking number. But he’s been fixated on Elizabeth for the past five minutes as she finishes explaining what he missed.
I’d have loved if we could have kept him in the dark for more than a millisecond. His green eyes darken with worry and anger, and he must be getting hot, because he starts rolling the cuffs of his heather-gray button-down. He already shed his peacoat when he walked in. His brown hair has grown out enough to touch his ears, and his five-o’clock shadow is turning into thicker stubble.
Whoever he’s becoming, he appears more relaxed, carefree. Not clean-cut. Less likely to lead a Fortune 500 meeting.
Half-eaten sushi remains on my plate, and I watch my mom poke at nigiri with her chopsticks in a daze.
I should feel like a bastard for causing her emotional distress and flinging her into a past where she (allegedly) lost a kid. But I can’t cry for her. Can’t even feel a tiny particle of guilt.
In truth, I don’t actually believe her.
I’m not sure I can believe anything she says. And sure, I’ll be the super raging dickbag if it turns out she was honest, but I’m willing to roll those dice.
I cup my water glass and clear my throat. “He doesn’t need an encyclopedia entry,” I tell Elizabeth. “Just give him the CliffsNotes. We have other news to share.”
My dad’s brows rise. “You’re not done dropping bombs tonight?”
“You’re made of steel, aren’t you?” I fling back. “Can’t handle one more grenade?”
“Is that what this is?” he asks me. “A test of loyalty since you think your mother and I have been lying to you? Otherwise, the only thing I can think is you’re being a selfish brat.”
I raise my glass. “Selfish brat.”
He’s glaring. “We’re all on the same team, Brayden.”
They’ve reminded me of this fact over and over. Same team. Same goals. It’s not entirely untrue, but somewhere along the way, I do think our desires diverged.
“It’s not a bomb,” Phoebe cuts in, eyeing me like settle down . Yeah…we need their help, and I’m not making this easy.
But if I had my way, we wouldn’t involve them in the Koning job. We’d figure out how to do it on our own. It’d be harder, riskier, but I believe in us . The six of us. We don’t need them. We never needed them. Yet, for how persuasive I can be, I’ve never been able to convince my siblings and the triplets of this.
Phoebe sips wine, then sets down the glass. “You three will probably be happy about this news.”
“Good news?” My mom rouses with elation. Elizabeth reaches over and squeezes her hand.
“We’re all for some good news, bug,” Elizabeth says with a warm smile.
Phoebe takes a deep, readying breath. “I’m not actually dating Jake Waterford,” she says. “It’s all fake. I’m really, truly dating…” Her gaze veers to me. “Rocky.” It’s a head rush.
A cold shower on a hot summer day. The feeling of being so openly hers is one I’m not going to take for granted, because I know it’s unlikely to happen again anytime soon.
“Phoebe,” I say, like her name belongs to me just as much as mine belongs to her.
“That’s it?” My dad cuts the moment with a serrated knife. “We already knew that.”
I narrow my eyes. “We just got together. Recently.”
“It hasn’t been long,” Phoebe confirms as Elizabeth rises from her chair and comes over to wrap her daughter in a hug.
“Everett just means we knew it would happen,” Elizabeth says brightly. “You two are meant to be.”
“Fated,” my mom agrees into a sip of wine.
My muscles are tight, flexed bands, and I know my dad. He meant exactly what he said. He’s always believed Phoebe and I have been fooling around with each other in secret.
Elizabeth returns to her chair. “Are you on the pill?”
“Am I on the pill?” Phoebe grimaces, and my stomach nosedives into the pits of hell. Any talk of future progeny and babies reminds me that our parents want a little shill at their disposal, and Phoebe and I are the vessels to provide that.
Elizabeth smiles like it’s an innocent yet amusing question. I’m aware her prying into Phoebe’s love life is a normal facet of their mother-daughter relationship. Hell, we’d both been given the “safe sex” talk long before we ever had sex. Pretty sure my mom and Elizabeth sat us down together in the same room.
Looking back on it—why us? Why not Phoebe and Hailey?
We all have our roles , I hear my mom say in my head, which just turns my body from glacier water to molten lava.
“What does Phoebe being on the pill matter?” I snap.
Elizabeth dips her sashimi into soy sauce. “Last time I talked with her, she didn’t like the pill. I don’t want you two to have an accident, unless you’re thinking about having kids.”
“Bullshit,” I say. “You’d love a little kid.” I look between her and my parents. “You all would.”
“Of course, it’d make jobs easier,” my mom says, “but that’s not our decision, Bray.” Her face fractures in hurt like I’m putting words into her mouth.
“It’s not that I don’t like the pill,” Phoebe says gently, like she’s easing back into the tension I’m spawning. “It’s the process in which I have to get the birth control that I don’t like. We’ve moved around too much.”
It’s a situation that complicates things for her and my sister. One I’ve tried to even help over the years. It involves pseudonyms and scamming new pharmacies, which heightens the potential risk of being caught. In the end, it’s easier (and ironically safer) just to use condoms—but if either of them wanted to go a different route, I know Nova, Oliver, and I would toy with the danger to help.
“But we’re not moving around right now,” I add. “We’re staying in Victoria, and we’ve heard your pleas and warnings a thousand times over. It doesn’t matter. We found a job here we’re going to start.”
“What job?” My father is intrigued, and I begin the long process of explaining our complicated ties to Jake Koning Waterford. From the beginning. For the most part, they quietly listen with few interjections. It’s only when I bring up Carter’s involvement in…everything that their reactions turn from contemplative to annoyed.
“We’re made?” Elizabeth’s brows furrow in horror.
“It’s just Jake,” Phoebe says. “He’s the only one who knows our identities.”
“He’s harmless,” I add.
“Harmless?” My mother’s eyes stake me. “Do you even know what the Waterford family is like? We were in town for less than twenty-four hours, and I can tell you that Claudia’s sons are heinous . She’s despicable in her blind love of them.”
“Jake isn’t like the rest of his family.” I defend him so quick, it’s like I’m on autopilot.
Phoebe chimes in, “He can be a little uptight and prickly about following rules, but it’s endearing.”
Jesus. I roll my eyes.
She shoots me a hot look. “It is endearing.”
“As endearing as a root canal.” I lean back.
“You do love pain.” Love is a strong word for what Jake is to me, but I’ve surprised myself today with the swiftness with which I’d defend the guy.
“You’ve never even met his entire family,” my mom tells me.
“And you have?” I ask, prying.
“Yes,” our moms say in unison, and Elizabeth explains, “We’ve had a luncheon with Claudia and her oldest two sons to pick their brains about Jake and Phoebe.”
“For Eros,” Elizabeth adds, naming their fake matchmaking company.
“So let’s get this straight, you’re both in Claudia’s ear,” I say, “and you despise her. So she sounds like the perfect mark to me for a long con.” I explain our plan to help Jake claim the Koning crown.
Elizabeth shakes her head as soon as I finish. “We can’t be in Connecticut.”
“It’s a nonstarter,” my mom says more pointedly.
No one pinches a piece of sushi, but hands are untightening on glasses. Cloth napkins are being uncrumpled in my dad’s loosening fist. Tensions might be high, but they’re interested. The job is tempting.
“You don’t need to be in Connecticut,” Phoebe says gently. “Just do your thing from afar. You already established Eros in New York. You can be a socialite without matchmaking me and Rocky.”
“How much is Jake offering us?” my father wonders. “After we secure him his title and inheritance?”
“One million,” I say.
“That’s it?”
“Each.”
“For all nine of us?” Elizabeth asks.
“Yeah,” Phoebe says. “Nine mil total.”
My mom careens backward in the chair while cupping a wineglass. Her wide, covetous eyes shift over to Elizabeth. “Bethy?”
It’s been a while since we’ve seen a multimillion-dollar payout.
“ No ,” Elizabeth says coldly. “No money is worth being in Connecticut. We made a promise, Addy.”
“We have to, Beth,” my father counters. “If Jake Waterford knows what we do and who we are, then he’ll be a better asset to us when he’s an heir. Right now, he’s a liability.”
I’ve called Jake a liability before, but hearing it from my father—it makes me angry. Mad that he’d think Jake wasn’t on our team. Maybe it’s just the pettiness in me that wants to run when my dad says walk.
Elizabeth drinks from her water goblet, and Phoebe and I are careful not to hyperfocus on her lips touching the rim.
My mother says, “It’s a risk.”
“Until you tell us why it’s a risk,” I refute, “it’s one we’re going to take. With or without you.”
“With us,” Elizabeth says quietly, placing her glass down. “If you try to pull this off, you’ll need us involved.”
—
Dinner is over. After we see our parents out of the mansion, Phoebe and I return to the dining room. Wearing medical-grade gloves, Nova slips a lipstick-stained wineglass into a plastic bag, and Phoebe begins clearing the unused silverware.
She disappears into the kitchen.
I pluck two blue gloves out of the box on the table, but Nova says, “I’ve got it.” He seals the baggie. “Let me handle this.”
I glance at the staircase that leads to the second floor. The surveillance room. My family.
“Trevor passed out,” Nova says, following my gaze. “Hailey has been on Ancestry.com, and Oliver has finally convinced her to lie down. He’s trying to read The Grapes of Wrath to her so she’ll fall asleep.”
I could thank him for the update, but I don’t. “And you’re down here. A one-man cleanup crew,” I say. “The fail-safe. Nova Graves.”
He glares like it’s an insult.
It wasn’t one.
Some days, I think our worlds would all fall apart if Nova were gone. If any of us were gone…this wouldn’t work. We need each other. I just don’t want to need the godmothers and godfather, too.