"Grandma," Olivia warned. I struggled to keep a straight face. I knew exactly where the old woman was going. It was a classic joke.
"Is it going to—"
"Don't you dare!" Olivia said.
"Actually," Hazel said, taking the card, "it isn't going to fit. We've tried this before."
"You have?" Mike asked, looking at me.
"Yes, we have," I said firmly. "And while it was a little touch and go, we figured out a way that was comfortable for both of us."
Hazel rolled her eyes and typed in the credit card number while Olivia packed up the paintings. "You are so juvenile," she said to me.
"Yeah, Archer," Tristan said, taking the paintings. "Have some respect. There are ladies present."
Eli took Olivia's hand and kissed it. She struggled not to laugh.
I looked at my younger brother in disgust. "You're going to be single and alone the rest of your life."
"Speak for yourself," he retorted.
Call me, he mouthed to Olivia.
"Enjoy your paintings, boys," Hazel said, waving as we left.
Mike and I walked through the other exhibition halls. Four of the large buildings were packed with booths.
"The site doesn't seem like it has any issues accommodating all these people," Mike said. "And they don't even have a parking deck or anything."
"I'm sure a lot of people must come in by train," I told him. "I know my two hotels in Harrogate were booked up for this art exhibition months in advance."
"I'm going to talk to the event coordinator," Mike said, handing me the paintings and walking over to talk to a man with a clipboard and a walkie-talkie.
I sent Eli and Tristan off to take pictures of the on-site parking while I stayed with Otis and Theo. They were looking at metal bug yard art. I told Theo he could have some if he bought three and periodically hid them in Mace's room. I chuckled. Mace would have a fit.
While I was waiting for him and Otis to pick out their sculptures, McKenna came hurrying over to me. It was too late to hide behind a booth. She was elegant in all black, her hair a curtain framing her face. She was a contrast to Hazel with her soft messiness.
When I'd first met McKenna, Greyson Hotel Group hadn't yet become profitable off its portfolio of unique boutique hotels. I was trying to lose the roughness of growing up in a doomsday cult. McKenna and her elegant sophistication had seemed intriguing. Now after having to stroke the egos of those types of people day in and day out, I just wanted someone honest. McKenna certainly wasn't.
"Archer," McKenna said, looping her arm around mine. She looked down at the paintings wrapped in the familiar paper and string, with a handmade card containing Hazel's loopy signature. "Don't tell me you bought one of those paint-by-numbers canvases."
"McKenna, we're done," I hissed at her. "You need to let it go."
"Archer, darling, don't say that!" McKenna batted her eyes. She could play the part of being genuine, but I was at the point where I saw through the charade. "I am so sorry about what happened." Her eyes were large, her face a fake mask of innocence.
"You lied and tried to alienate me from my family," I said flatly. "What you did was unforgivable."
"Archer, I love you." Her eyes shone with tears. "I want us to be together."
"Absolutely not. You need to stay away from my family," I said, shaking her off. "You tried to ruin my relationship with my family once. I will never let you have that kind of power ever again."
"You can't mean that!" McKenna said. "I did what I did because I loved you."
"That's not how you treat someone you love."
"I'm going to make you take me back," she said, her expression flipping from sad and loving to bitter and vengeful in an instant. I watched her warily. "You think Hazel cares about you?" she spat. "She's just using you. You'll see. You're going to come crawling back to me."
23
