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“Your father got on famously with mine.” Victor amends, fixing me with a look that suggests he knows more than he can publicly say about what our fathers had in common.
Interesting.
“I have to take some cookies out of the oven.” Elaine says, glancing at her wrist, which has never, as long as I’ve known her, had a watch there. She offers our guest a stilted wave and then with her back to him, mouths ‘thank you’.
I offered her an escape, but now I’m stuck entertaining the senator for an indefinite amount of time. I glance around, hoping to spot Wes or his abominable father. It’s been a few years since I last saw Davos, but once you’ve stood toe-to-toe with the devil, you’re not likely to forget what he looks like.
He isn’t here.
“Washington to Costa Rica is a long way to travel for a wake.”
“I was here on business. Figured I’d take the opportunity to make sure the devil was really dead.” The senator is ambiguously blunt, leaving just enough of a lilt to his words that he could start laughing and tell me that’s a joke. But he doesn’t. I know exactly how he feels about my father, and though it’s akin to the hatred I held for him, I can’t figure out why he’d be telling me this.
“The state of Washington has business in Costa Rica?” I muse, knowing damn well that’s not what he meant. Victor knows too, but he just laughs.
“Personal business. I’ve got an investment opportunity I’m pursuing.” He shrugs, and I’m about to write it off as irrelevant when he switches tack, leaning into me with interest in his eyes. “There was a girl here earlier… blonde with eyes like the sea.”
I know he’s talking about Claire even before he describes her. I feel my spine go stiff at the mention of her, and I’m preparing to tell him I’m not sure who he’s referring to when he continues. “She said her name was Claire Monroe and that she was a friend of the family.”
So much for feigning ignorance. I turn and scan the crowd again, hoping he can’t see the instant anger he ignited inside of me. I don’t know who this Massarini is, but his interest in Claire is disturbing. He’s old enough to be her father, and the fact that he felt comfortable enough to ask me about her in the same breath as mentioning an investment opportunity makes my gut twist. I spot a member of the catering staff with drinks on his tray and gesture him over, taking a tumbler of whiskey on the rocks and sipping it as casually as I can. In my head, I’m already plotting Massarini’s death. I wonder if Claire will join me again.
He waits, somewhat impatiently, as I take a sip of the drink and then sigh my approval of the taste, as if I’m uninterested in the conversation. “Claire is a friend of the family.” I shrug, repeating Claire’s earlier sentiment.
“How long has she been a friend of the family?” Victor asks eagerly.
I can feel the presence of the caterer next to me, still waiting with his tray like he expects me to take another. Or maybe offer him some sort of tip. Victor seems to sense him too, because he takes a glass off the tray, musters a smile, and sends him on his way.
“Years.” I shrug and gesture to his drink. “I’d love to know what you think, Senator.”
It takes him a moment to understand what I’m asking before he peers down at his glass like he expects it to jump out at him. When his eyes turn up to me, I nod, so he takes a tentative sip. His face smooths out, his unease gone as he realizes he actually likes the drink. “Smooth.” He says, nodding approvingly.
“That whiskey was aged in a wine barrel for the last four years.” I tell him. “It’s from my private selection.”
“It’s good.” He says quickly. “So, what can you tell me about her?”
I know he’s talking about Claire again, and the thought makes me want to smash both my glass and his over his head. “My distillery? It’s a passion project rather than a financial pursuit, but—”
“No,” Victor raises a hand to stop me. “I mean the girl. Claire. What do you know about her? Where did she come from?”
I bite back the childish impulse to tell him she came from her mother, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension that’s building there. “Claire’s great.” I tell him, “But I’m not going to give anyone her bio without her permission.”
The senator’s mouth opens a little like he’s about to speak, but the only word that comes from his mouth is “But—” and then he’s cut off by the addition of a new party to our conversation.
“Wes,” I clap him on the back. “So good of you to join us.”
Wes’ eyes glower even as he grins, turning on the charm for Massarini. “I’ve been looking for you.” He says, just lightly enough that it can be construed as a friendly statement. Next to him, the man Dimitri hired to play Wes’ keeper stands with his arms crossed and his jaw set. I’m sure Wes has cut his teeth on torturing the poor guy tonight.
“I’ve been around.” I assure him. “Have you met Senator Massarini?”
“Senator?” Wes harumphs, crossing his arms.
“Victor,” The senator extends his hand, but Wes leaves him hanging to appraise him coolly.
“Wes is my ill-mannered half-brother.” I say, hoping that tidbit is enough to distract him from asking about Claire anymore.
I think it works cause the way the senator looks at me is like his brain is short-circuiting. “Half-brother? As in…”
“As in our whore mother fucked my father and then left us to start over with Jonathan.” Wes grins. “But family always find each other, you know?”
