Chapter 3
CASH
“They eloped and left us behind,” Cleo seethed beside me. “I can feel it.”
I shook my head immediately, the theory too absurd even for Austin’s impulsive tendencies. “Austin wouldn’t risk upsetting Aunt Kathy like that.”
Cleo’s head snapped toward me, those dark eyes narrowing in judgment. “Isn’t she your stepmom?”
“Yes. But she was my aunt first.”
“Ew.” The word came out with such genuine revulsion that I actually felt defensive. “Bancrofts are so weird.”
“We’re not blood-related,” I said, my jaw tightening. “She’s my uncle’s widow.”
“That doesn’t sound any less icky.”
“It’s not icky,” I growled, and I could hear the edge in my voice. Why did this woman have such an extraordinary talent for getting under my skin?
“Mm, yes, take it from a normie.” Cleo took a leisurely sip of her Diet Coke, the picture of casual condescension.
“It’s weird. You’re too elite and removed from normal society to have any sense of what’s weird or not.
” She paused, and I could see the mischief dancing in her eyes.
“Incest is surprisingly common in really wealthy families. Do you know the Royals were only allowed to marry first cousins for the longest time? They really like to keep it in the family.”
I rounded on her, and suddenly I was much closer than I’d been a moment ago. “Not in mine.”
For a second, we were locked in this stare. Me glowering down at her and her blinking up at me with those impossibly large dark eyes. Then her expression shifted, and she smiled. Not a polite smile or even a genuine one. No, this was the smile of someone who’d just successfully completed a mission.
She’d been toying with me. Again.
And I’d made it so easy for her. Christ, I’d walked right into that one like an amateur.
The worst part? How gorgeous she looked while doing it.
She was a confusing kind of beautiful for me, the kind that didn’t fit into any of the neat categories I’d created in my mind.
She wasn’t the modestly dressed woman people thought a man like me “should” have on his arm.
Not the perfectly coiffed, neutral-toned, diamond-studs-and-pearls type that showed up to every charity gala and country club event.
No, Cleo was a combination of sunshine and goth. Two things that didn’t belong in each other’s space, but she made it work. Her purple eyeliner and black eyeshadow should look ridiculous but somehow didn’t.
She was chaos in human form, and I had no idea what to do with that.
“Maury, Maury, Maury,” she said in a singsong voice.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
She rolled her eyes. “I forgot, you uppity folks don’t get down in the gutter with us plebes and watch a little smarmy daytime television. You’re not the father!”
I stared at her. “Are you having a stroke?”
She snorted and took another drink. “One of these days, Lurch. I’m going to force you to sit down and watch good old fashioned daytime TV.”
“Not going to happen.”
I shook off her comments. Getting riled up was exactly what she wanted, and I refused to give her the satisfaction.
“So if they didn’t elope, maybe they bought a vacation property. In the Maldives, perhaps. They’ve been talking about traveling more.”
Cleo raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Why would they have to announce that at a party?”
I shrugged because she had a point. “Bancrofts announce everything. It’s practically genetic.”
“That tracks, actually.”
We stood there in silence for a moment, both of us staring across the kitchen at Austin and Melody. They were laughing with Kent and Sylvie now, but there was something underneath it. Something they were both holding close.
Then Cleo gasped. It was a sharp, sudden sound that immediately triggered my protective instincts.
I turned toward her, my hand already moving to her back. “Are you really having a stroke? Shit, I was kidding. I shouldn’t joke like that, given my Aunt Kathy’s history.”
She smacked my hand away, glaring at me like I’d just tried to poison her drink.
And then she grabbed my wrist with both hands and hauled me away.
For someone who couldn’t be more than five-foot-five in those shoes, she had remarkable upper body strength.
Or maybe I was just too surprised to resist as she dragged me away from the kitchen and toward a door I hadn’t even noticed.
The butler’s pantry.
She pulled us both inside and shut the door behind us, and suddenly we were in a space that was maybe four feet by six feet, surrounded by shelves stocked with dry goods and the lingering scent of spices.
We were very, very close together.
I arched an eyebrow, trying to regain some semblance of control over this situation. “Did you bring me in here to beat me up, or have your way with me?” The words came out smoother than I felt. “Girls who hate me love when I—”
“Oh, shut up, Bancroft, you billionaire Neanderthal,” Cleo cut me off. I could see her mind racing, working through something. “They’re pregnant. Duh!”
The word hung in the air between us.
Pregnant.
And suddenly everything clicked into place like tumblers in a lock.
Austin not staying late when one of us hosted gatherings for cigars and whiskey.
Sometimes not showing up at all, which was completely unlike him.
Austin being on his phone constantly, texting someone—Melody, obviously—with a dopey smile on his face.
Talking about her nonstop, even when we explicitly told him to shut up about it.
Escaping to the Hamptons every chance he got, claiming he needed “time away from the city.”
And the nieces and nephews. Shit, how had I missed that?
Austin had been spending more time with Kent and Sylvie’s baby.
With all the kids, really. Asking questions about sleep schedules and pediatricians and whether it was normal for babies to hate car seats.
Which cribs were the best? Were those massive strollers worth it?
I’d thought he was just being a good uncle. But no, he’d been preparing.
“You’re right,” I said. Those two words tasted like lemon-soaked acid. Agreeing with Cleo felt dangerous, like opening a door I couldn’t close again.
I watched her transform before my eyes. Her entire demeanor shifted from conspiracy theorist to military general in approximately two seconds.
She straightened her spine and rolled her shoulders back.
It was like something or someone hopped into her body.
I could practically see the gears turning in her head as she formulated a plan.
“Right now, I’m going to be the best best friend and assistant to Melody I possibly can be. I’ve been anticipating Melody’s needs before she even knew she had needs for years. It’s time to shine. I’m going to make best-friending an Olympic sport.”
I stared at her and wondered if there was something going on in the woman’s head that required medication. But then I decided it was just Cleo being Cleo.
Before I could process what was happening, she reached up, grabbed my shirt front, and tugged hard enough I could feel the fabric cutting into the back of my neck.
I had to bend down to keep my head from being lopped off.
Suddenly we were eye to eye in the tiny pantry, her face inches from mine.
This close, I could see the details I usually missed.
The way her eyeliner winged perfectly at the corners, the small freckles under the makeup, and the fact that her eyes weren’t just dark brown but were ringed by a pretty shade of amber.
They were beautiful. Startlingly beautiful. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Listen up,” Cleo said, her voice all business now.
“We have a job to do, Bancroft. Austin and Melody are about to announce the most beautiful thing to ever happen to them. They should be savoring the moment, not filling drinks and taking food out of the oven or putting bags away. That’s officially a job that has been reassigned to us. ”
I should have argued. I should have pointed out that I didn’t work for Austin. I was a guest here just like everyone else. I should have done any number of things that would have been consistent with who I was supposed to be.
Instead, I heard myself sigh. “Yes, ma’am.”
A smile flashed across her face. Genuine this time, not mocking. What the fuck was that? Was there a real human in there?
“Put a smile on that hideous face of yours,” she said, releasing my shirt. “Get ready to be the best party guest of your life.”
She tilted her head back and downed her Diet Coke like someone might down a beer. I watched her throat work. She finished it off and smiled before wiping the back of her mouth.
She marched out of the pantry like she was leading troops into battle.
I was left standing in the tiny space wondering what the hell had just happened.
I took a moment to collect myself. The woman was a tornado.
The tiny butler’s pantry still buzzed with her energy even though she was gone, like the air molecules hadn’t quite settled back into their normal patterns yet.
I stepped out and witnessed Cataclysmic Cleo sweeping through the kitchen, picking up empties and greeting guests. She snatched a wine bottle from Melody’s hands and took over pouring responsibilities.
Melody walked over to Austin and wrapped her arm around him. Austin kissed the side of her face and smiled. Oh, he was definitely hiding a big secret.
Cleo was right, and shit, I was going to need to scrub my brain after thinking those words. No matter how infuriating the woman was, she was also the most magnetic person in the entire house.
Maybe the most magnetic person I’d ever met.
I kind of liked how she made me feel off kilter. Like I might have to actually pay attention instead of operating on autopilot.
It was terrifying. It was also exhilarating. Just like staring at an approaching storm. Cyclone Cleo had arrived and I was going to have to hold on to something solid to keep from being swept away.