“Thank you for that,” I say dryly. “It’s not a nutritionallybalancedday until you’ve called me a piece of shit.” I shut my tablet off as a notification pops up. “Why are you here?”
“The Camp-Away,” he says. “I never received my invite.”
You’ve got to be shitting me.
“I stopped sending you charity function invites a yearago,” I remind him. “You usually don’t show. On the occasion that you do grace us with yourlarger-than-life, peacocking presence?—”
“Classy,peacocking.”
“—you never RSVP,” I say, but I’m not done. “In 365 days, you’ve never come to complain. So why now?”
“This is your biggest event of the year,” he tells me. “I’m sincerely hurt that you wouldn’t even text me about it.”
“You don’t text back!” I’m nearing the edge of a cliff that I want to pushhimoff of. But I can’t.He’s family.“Pop up our text conversation right fucking now. There’s a row of about fifty texts you’veneverresponded to.” I gesture from my chest to his. His to mine. “This is a two-way street.”
Charlie doesn’t deny that fact. “Am I invited or not?”
“No,” I say firmly. “You’re not invited because if I make the announcement to the press and you don’t show, then that’s on the philanthropy.”
“Then don’t make the announcement.”
“I don’t want surprise guests.”
Charlie lets out a vexed breath. “You just don’t want me there. And you can’t admit it, like a coward.” He stands.
I stand.
Someone raps the door. We quiet when it swings open, and Farrow stops himself from entering fully. He sees Charlie.
He sees me.
Farrow says to me, “Do you need me to come back later?—”
“No. I’m almost done.” I watch Farrow slip inside and shut the door behind him. He leans his shoulders against the wood.
My focus returns to Charlie. “You’re unreliable anderratic.You’re not invited. And I’m not joking around, Charlie. If you show up unannounced, I’ll get security to escort you out.” I doubt I’d actually follow through with the threat, but I need to make my point clear.
Charlie doesn’t blink. “You’d useoursecurity againstme? There are only five bodyguards in Omega. One is at the door, and what would you tell them?Treat Charlie like the enemy.”
“No. You’re not my enemy. You’re my family, and the amount of energy I’ve spenttryingto include you in the past could row a goddamn fleet of Viking ships—but you refused to jump on board. You wanted to do your own thing, and I get it. Go do your own thing. Stop fucking with mine.”
Charlie sits partially on the edge of the table, hand in his pocket. He turns his head to my bodyguard. “Tell me you see how big of a self-righteous asshole he is.”
Standing leisurely but on guard, Farrow says coldly, “I see how big of a prick you are.”
Charlie arches a single brow. “We both could be right.”
“Unlikely.”
“Then you’re a self-righteous asshole too.” Charlie stands. “Looks like you’re a perfect match for each other.”
I go rigid, even though he’s just referring to my bodyguard-client relationship. At that final note, Charlie exits—and I’m left hoping and praying that he’ll leave the Camp-Away alone.
31
MAXIMOFF HALE
Farrow inspectsmy childhood bedroom like it’s a relic in a museum. He wanders to the wooden dresser and picks upThe Fourth Degreeaction figures. His brown eyes swing to the black-painted walls,X-Menchalk drawings, and all theBatmanposters.
