“You’re here, so I know he did.” There’s no judgement in his tone, no sarcasm.
“Don’t you want to know any more?” I head towards him, mainly because he’s near where I’ve left my phone and I’ve heard it vibrate.
“No. I’ve killed enough people.”
And that tells me everything I need to know right now. I stretch my arm out to take my phone and he takes hold of it, his grip firm, then he runs his fingers over my skin. It’s the first purposeful contact we’ve had for decades and the effect is richer than it was back then.
My phone rings and I know it’s Lennox. There’s an undercurrent to this dinner with William Goldsmith and I’m not sure what is actually being served – food or me.
“I need to take this.”
Ben moves his hand away, but doesn’t give me any space as I answer. He seems even larger standing here, watching.
“Lennox.” I don’t offer a greeting.
“Tonight – your dinner with Goldsmith.”
I know he has a list of instructions.
“I’m not talking politics. I’m not discussing anything personal. I’m not doing this again.”
My brother sighs, just like he used to when I was a kid and refused to play the game he wanted. Usually because I’d get hurt or left behind.
“He likes you. We could really do with…”
“I’m not a whore for you to pimp out, Len.” I know he doesn’t mean this. He hasn’t thought it through, too blinded by his vision. I wonder if our father knows I’m seeing William Goldsmith for dinner tonight.
“That’s not what this is. You know that’s not what I mean. Just be approachable. Friendly. Do you know why he couldn’t make the theatre last night?” Lennox is starting to calm now, going into organiser mode.
“A family issue.”
“His sister was admitted to hospital. Her husband put her there.”
I hear the anger in my brother’s voice. Before he is a prince and an heir, he is a man and he’s a good one. As much as he’ll take advantage of Elise and whoever else slips into his bed, he’d never intentionally hurt anyone. That’s where he’s like our father.
“Do we know this officially?”
“No.” Lennox huffs the word. “But don’t ask too much about where he was last night.”
I shake my head. I wasn’t going to anyway; I had no interest in where William Goldsmith was last night. Or in joining in my brother’s political games.
“Don’t do this again.”
“What’s that?”
“Arrange for a meal with a man I don’t need to be alone with.”
I’m met with silence.
“Seriously, Lennox. This isn’t fair…”
“We’re trying to clear the differences between us, Blair. Stop this ridiculous feud between us…”
I know a speech is about to start.
“That’s fine,” I interrupt. “But you need to discuss with me what I want before agreeing for me to have private dinners. That’s a whole different thing.”
There’s silence again which means he knows he’s fucked up.
