“No.”
“Had a famous sibling?”
“Aiden’s biggest claim to fame is that he was the pilot on that transatlantic flight where a B-lister went into labor and a vet on board delivered the baby before they landed.”
Davis slides me a look. “That’s a stretch.”
I grin. “He’s still pissed that the local news crews interviewed his copilot but didn’t talk to him. So no. Neither of us are famous or have even had a brush with fame.”
“I was seventeen when we signed our first record deal. Two years later, my parents got divorced. My father took most of my early money for what he claimed were management fees. Vanessa had to switch colleges twice because of the attention and ended up at a school where she was finally left alone but didn’t fit in either. My grandma leaked our hotel schedule to the press once. Had an uncle who wrote a tell-all.Idon’t trust people. That’s the mystery. The whole mystery.”
“That sounds lonely.”
“Still have the family I made before we got famous.”
And I have the family I made after I ran away from home.
We’re the exact opposite.
With every passing year, it’s harder and harder to make myself go visit my grandma, even though I know she has limited time left. While with every passing year, he apparently clings harder to the people from his past.
I wonder if he hopes they don’t move on and forget him.
I would if I were him.
Aren’t they all married with kids now?
No, wait, only most of his friends are married with kids. Not all of them.
I stare at my tequila while I swirl it in my glass.Focus, Sloane. “And the only reason you care about Thorny Rock’s treasure is because you don’t want Patrick to get it?”
He doesn’t answer.
I’m sure he’d say it’s because he’s concentrating on flipping the two halves of the grilled cheese sandwich together, or because the other skillet is hot enough to put in the popcorn kernels now, or something else.
Except I wouldn’t believe him.
A revenge treasure hunt to beat someone who hurt his sister years ago—probably close to a decade ago, given what I know about how long Patrick dated Ellie before he asked me out, which was—stupid math—ah, yes, about seven years ago.
Anyway, doing a revenge treasure hunt a decade later doesn’t make sense. “Why else do you care so much about the treasure?”
Serious brown eyes bore into mine. “I don’t trust you enough yet for that.”
“Yetimplies you think you might. Or that you think I want to earn your trust. Or you want to earn mine. Wait. The tequila’s confusing me. Which way is this supposed to go?”
But even with the tequila, I’m starting to realize just how much he says without moving a single facial muscle.
Like right now.
Right now, he’s sayingI just gave you gossip no one else has, so I’m going to find out very soon if we’re doing the next level of this trust thing.
“Why didn’t you tell Ellie that your sister had dated Patrick too? Or your sister? Vanessa? Why didn’t she ell Tellie—tell Elliewhat Patrick had done?” I ask.
“We’re tight, but we’re nottell you everything every daytight. I was busy. Vanessa moved out of the neighborhood and made her own life. Ellie was busy. I heard she was dating someone. Didn’t meet him for almost a year.”
“He didn’t know who you were?”
“He didn’t know Vanessa was related to me.”
