Page 61 of Lucky


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“Impressive stamina,” Charlotte replies. “Most people can’t endure him for a full meal.”

“Mum,” I say, because someone has to.

But she’s too busy smiling warmly at Lucky.

Charlotte props her chin on one hand. “Love the jacket. And the glasses. Very… intellectual menace. Suits you.”

Lucky laughs, touches the glasses. “I only wear them when I want people to think I know what I’m doing.”

Charlotte nods like this is the most relatable thing ever. “Iconic.”

Christ. She’s charmed already.

By the time the mains arrive, I’m almost relaxed.

Almost.

Lucky’s laughing at something Dad said about American portion sizes, Mum’s fussing over whether Lily has enough ice in her drink, and Charlotte’s pretending she’s not watching everyone with lawyer-level assessment.

Then Mum does it.

Drops the grenade right into the middle of the table.

“So,” she says brightly, cutting into her sea bass, “we’ve decided Lily should come to Florida for the whole summer.”

My fork pauses mid-air.

Lucky freezes beside me.

Lily’s eyes go wide. “Wait—what?”

“Yes, darling,” Mum continues breezily. “You’ll fly down with us on Monday.”

“Monday?” I choke. “Mum, she’s got school. A full week left.”

She waves a hand. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. They don’t teach anything new the last week before summer. It’s all films and… whatever it is American children do.”

“Still—” I try again.

But Lily grabs my arm, practically vibrating.

“Dad, please. Please. Please. I want to go.”

I look at her—actually look—and she’s glowing. She hasn’t looked this excited in… God, months. Maybe longer.

My chest tightens.

Still, I open my mouth to argue.

Charlotte, of course, chooses that moment to drag Lucky into it. “What do you think?” she asks smoothly.

Lucky blinks. “Me?”

“Yes, you. About the school thing. Surely you’d remember if the last week meant anything.”

Lucky blinks, then laughs softly. “I’m twenty-nine, Charlotte. I barely remember last month. No, I don’t think last-week-of-school stuff is important.”

Charlotte hums. “Thought so.” Then—deadpan as anything—“And where did you go to school?”