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“Yes!” Cal claps as I look in the side mirror to see if the road is free from traffic. Once it is, I pull onto it, flip a bitch, then turn into the driveway. After punching in the code at the gate, I make my way up the drive, and park in front.
“So you asked if they were Kennedy’s,” I say as we hop out of the Jeep and make our way up the front walk, “they weren’t, but the old man was on his way to becoming one. He was a senator. Everyone loved him and apparently he had his eye on the White House.”
I shove my key in the door and once unlocked, push it open, the familiar marbled entry greeting me.
“Holy shit.” Marcus whistles as he and the others take it all in. “What did you say his name was?”
“Reginald Butler,” I look around, noticing how everything is exactly the same. Round table in the center, with a crystal vase filled to the brim with freshly cut flowers, and the wood banister that curls up the staircase polished to a shine, reflecting the light from the chandelier above.
“Wait.” He snaps. “Are you talking about that guy they founddead in his office a few years back with like a pound of blow?”
“That’s the one.” I shove a hand in my pocket. “Five years ago to be exact because three and a half years ago, his widow married my dad.”
“Shit,” Cal shakes his head, “talk about luck.”
Marcus looks at Cal and when he sees both of us staring at him, he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Shit, man. Didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine.” I hold up my hand.
“No.” He makes his way over and grips my shoulder. “That shit sucks about your mom. I’m sorry, man, really.”
What they say about boys and their moms is true. We may get older, but we always want to know our mom is there to have our backs. Knowing mine isn’t anymore and that she’ll never see me play in the majors… Well, he’s right. It sucks.
“It’s fine, brother.” I stick my fist out and he bumps it.
“Wasn’t there something about him in the news recently?” Marcus asks as I lead them down the foyer toward the family room. “Something about his death. They’re reopening the case I think.”
“Shit, really?” I stop as we hit the spacious room with double leather couches, oversized fireplace with bookshelves flanking it, and a back wall of windows that looks out onto a private beach.
“Yeah.” He looks over at me in surprise. “Didn’t you know?”
I shake my head, wondering why my dad hadn’t said anything? It had to be throwing Ellery and her mom for a loop. “I don’t really keep up with their business.”
“Well,” he grins, “maybe if you watched something other thanSportscenterall the time, you’d know.”
“I do.” I roll my eyes. “I just don’t remember seeing anything about him in the news, and Saffron hasn’t said anything.”
“Saffron?” Cal laughs. “That’s your stepmom’s name?”
“Yup.” I shove a hand in my pocket. “And she’s cool, so don’tknock it.”
Marcus picks up a silver framed picture on the side table next to me. “Is this her?”
“It is,” I nod.
“Pretty. Your dad has good taste.”
Ellery’s mom was pretty. She wasn’t the dark haired beauty my mother was, but I suppose that’s why my dad fell for her. She was everything his first love wasn’t and if there was no reminder, there was no pain. Except, something told me that wasn’t totally true. I don’t think you ever got over losing your first love.
“Holy shit.” Cal reaches over Marcus’ shoulder and holds up a smaller framed photo. “Who’s the hottie?”
When I see that he’s holding a picture of Ellery, I stiffen. “My stepsister.”
“Damn,” he groans. “Too bad you’re related. I’d totally tap that.”
I clench my jaw and fight the urge to tell him to fuck off. “Hey.” Jake claps Cal on the back. “Let’s go check out that painting, shall we?”
Cal sets the picture of Ellery down and I shoot daggers at his back as he and Jake make their way over to the other side of the room.
