“Yes, sorry.”
Her eyes flick to Noah and then back to me. “No worries. I do apologize, lunch is running a bit behind.”
“No problem,” I say, adjusting my skirt.
“I’m afraid the last member of our party is now late, so we’ll have to occupy our time until he arrives.”
The energy in the room shifts, the warmth of our welcome slipping away as Noah’s face falls into a flat stare.
“I didn’t realize anyone else would be joining us,” he says.
His words are clipped and heavy with disdain, much like they were during our first meeting. My mind reels, wondering who could elicit such a reaction from him. Noah never mentioned siblings, and the emotion rolling off his shoulders could only be strong enough for a few kinds of relationships. His mother seems wonderful, and he’s admitted to being close with her.
“Don’t be silly, son. You can’t expect him to not have lunch at his own house.”
Vivian sips on her tea and dabs her mouth with one of the small napkins. The realization sinks in as he speaks again, his voice still tight: he’s never mentioned his father.
“Convenient of you to not mention it until we were already here,” Noah says.
“Please, dear.” Vivian shoots a pointed look at her son before turning back to me with a smile. “We have a guest who doesn’t need a taste of our insufferable family drama.”
The two members of the Graves family stare at each other with contempt and I need a way out. Summoning what I hope comes across as a smile rather than a grimace, I sink back into the cushion. I knew coming today was a bad idea, and sensing the heavy dread from Noah leaves me little reason to look forward to the rest of the afternoon.
“Excuse me, may I use your bathroom?”
Vivian nods and motions towards an archway off the main living area. “Of course. It’s down that hallway, first door on the left.”
Once in the bathroom, I pull my phone out and do what I can to arm myself for what is shaping up to be a very awkward family reunion. I scroll through countless images, looking for any hint of Vivian’s husband; he doesn’t seem to appear in any of her red carpet outings. Celebripedia is a little more help and I scan the page looking for anything, cursing myself for not doing this sooner.
Carlisle Graves is the husband of Vivian Graves and father to her only son, Noah. He rose to fortune in the tech industry as the CEO of Asco Tech while his wife rose to fame in the public eye. His net worth is approximately 2.8 billion, and though he keeps a private life, he is active in environmental charity circles.
For the second time today, I think I’m going to throw up.Two point eight billion dollars.I knew Noah came from money, and Vivian has a career that would put most to shame, but realizing I’m standing in the home of a literalbillionairetwists into something insidious. I scour the page, discouraged that none of this explains why Noah had such a strong reaction to hearing his father was going to be joining us. I wash my hands and stare at my reflection, feeling worse than before.
The first thing I notice when I step out of the bathroom is the silence. It’s deafening against the patter of my footsteps on the shining tile floors. The second thing I notice, as I roundthe corner, is that Carlisle Graves has arrived. He’s standing between his wife and son, whose expression is mixed between anger and disgust. The man matches Noah’s good looks, but there is an edge to him. He stands tall, and even in a room with his enchanting wife, pulls the attention with his sharp manners. He holds a glass of bourbon in one hand, the other waving casually with his words.
“Oh, hello. You must be my son’s colleague from that little wellness startup he ran off to run.” His voice is syrupy and turns my stomach over again.
Ignoring his off-putting introduction and condescending description of Noah’s work, I smile. “Yes. I work at Flourish.”
Noah stands, rounds on the couch and settles in at my side, placing his hand on the small of my back. After two days at the Barker’s I should be used to his proximity and his touch, but this is different. This is protective.
His father stalks forward, extending his hand in greeting. “Carlisle Graves.”
Noah stiffens beside me as I reach out to take it. “Charlotte Wilde. It’s a pleasure.”
“I’m sure,” he says, dropping my hand and sipping on his drink.
Vivian stands, and claps in a way that reminds me of Cheryl. “Perfect. We’re all here. Let’s eat!”
Her invitation is jumpy, as if she’s actively avoiding something. Noah prompts me forward and we follow his parents into the dining room. Once settled into our seats, we load our plates in silence.
“Tell me, Charlotte,” Carlisle muses. “Are things up north really as charming as my son seems to think they are?”
I take a sip of water and offer Noah a smile. “I think so. But Portland has always been home for me.”
“And your parents are proud of the work you’re doing?”
I open my mouth to answer but Vivian saves me the trouble. “Surely we can let the poor girl eat before pestering her with questions. She’s been entertaining me tirelessly, dear.”
