“Yes, it’s new. I got tired of the old one. The crystal looked too fussy,” Annie explained.
Tara nudged me hard. “I hate that fucking fussy crystal,” she whispered. I nudged her back harder.
We went past the library, with its tall black doors closed, past Annie’s office (what would she do in there?), into the huge, bright kitchen, busy with caterers, through the butler’s pantry, the breakfast room, the family room, the sun room, and Milos’ study. It was all absolutely perfect. A little austere to me, but down to the last detail, every room was perfect. We followed Annie upstairs to the master bedroom, the bathroom with two of everything (including showers—no sharing here), Macdara’s bedroom, about three more bedrooms, and into the game room, where the kids were going wild. There was ping pong table, a pool table, a foosball table, a karaoke machine, a huge TV, another TV with a video game console, a small trampoline, an enormous dollhouse, books, shelves of fancy dolls, and every other thing a kid could ever want. It was like walking into a fantasy land. I looked around and saw Charlie laughing his head off, tie askew. Every room in the house was like a fantasy, really. I had never seen anything like it.
Annie wrapped up the tour, and we all traipsed back downstairs to the living room and foyer, as Annie called it with a French accent: “foy-ay.” I knew that “lobby” couldn’t have been right. I saw Neil, who raised a glass at me and walked over. “Looks like I waited too long to take you fishing,” he said.
“No, I know Charlie would still love to go,” I assured him. Tara started to laugh.
“Sister, you are clueless,” she told me.
“Can I get you another?” Neil asked, pointing to my empty wine glass.
I was a one-and-done kind of drinker. Mostly, I was a none-and-done kind of drinker. “No thank you, Neil.”
“Here,” Tara announced, handing him her empty glass. “Red.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You’ve never been long on subtlety,” he told her, but he took it and walked toward the bar.
“Told you he wanted to get into your pants,” Tara said loudly, poking me.
“What’s this?” Luke asked from behind us.
“I was telling your girlfriend how much one of the other guys here is into her. See you later!” Tara took off, before I could punch her. I had never hit another lady, but there was always a first time.
Luke was laughing. I was not amused. “Did you find Milos?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “He’s not here. He didn’t show up, and Annie is a mess.”
I looked at Annie, who looked as impeccable as always. “Really?”
“I was calming her and my dad down for the past half hour.” He took my hand. “Come say hello to my father,” he said, pulling me towards the door.
“Oh, we’ve already met.” I dug in my heels and pulled my arm back.
“What?” he asked me.
“He doesn’t like me much,” I explained. “It’s pretty obvious.”
Luke grimaced. “He’s just a little stand-offish sometimes. It’s fine, it’s nothing personal. Just come talk to him for a minute, all right? I want him to get to know you. He’s all alone in thelibrary.”
Reluctantly, I followed him back to the library we had passed on the tour. Luke pulled open one of the doors, and held out his hand for me to enter.
George Whitaker was sitting in front of the fire in a tall, angular chair. He looked up, and his face didn’t change one iota when he saw me. “Lucas,” he said, “who is this?”
He didn’t rise from the chair, and I saw the cane leaning on the cushion next to him. “I’m Emily Brennan, Mr. Whitaker,” I said. “Macdara swims with my nephew, Charlie.”
“Dad, you met Emily outside of the Athletic Center,” Luke expanded. He took my arm, and led me over to the chair facing George Whitaker, then leaned against it as I sat down. Mr. Whitaker stared at me, his face impassive. I felt like I was going to be interrogated, but he didn’t say a word.
“Annie’s still upset,” Luke mentioned.
His father raised his eyebrow. “Lucas, do you think you should be discussing family affairs in front of—” he paused a little—“Emily?”
It wasn’t what he said, it was how he said it. He could have easily substituted “this person” or just “this thing” for my name. The subtext was clear.
“Emily and Annie are friends,” Luke told him.
“Really?” his voice dripped with disbelief. “Anaïs didn’t mention that to me when we were discussing the Brennan family.”
