“We’re worried about you.” Grandmother closes her eyes briefly and sighs. “I know you’re still looking for her.”
“She was there.”
“Ares, your motherdruggedyou.” Grandmother sounds pained.
“Are you saying I was delusional?”
Dad clears his throat, his eyes soft with sympathy. He’s speaking as my father, rather than a senior partner. “You said you ate the girl’s bread.” His eyes fall on the tiramisu in his hand. He places it on a napkin.
It’s clear that he doesn’t believe me. He doesn’t think I’m lying, necessarily, but he’s convinced I couldn’t have overcome my hunger and thirst in the face of the treats Mom left out for me. In order to protect myself, I made up the girl and the bread she brought.
My hands clench.I’m not crazy.I didn’t make up anything about what happened.
“If she was there, we would’ve found her by now. Jeremiah looked for her, too, remember? Her people are thorough.”
Aunt Jeremiah gives me a sympathetic look mixed with pity, then looks away in discomfort. Compassion really isn’t her thing.
But her feelings aren’t my focus right now. Bitter disappointment curdles in my belly like milk gone bad. “You want me to give up on her.”
“We want you to live in the present,” my father says. “It isn’t healthy. It’s been twenty-two years.”
“Bullshit.” I lift my gaze at the coat of arms above the wall behind Grandmother. A trio of silver wolves snarl on a shield with the family motto in all caps: PIETAS ET UNITAS. Loyalty and unity. It’s embedded in us. Even before we’re born, the family has special canes crafted for us with a Huxley wolf as the knob and the motto engraved along the body so we never forget.
Of course, loyalty and unity are reserved for the family, but as far as I’m concerned, Queen is more than family. She was my savior. How can I abandon her just because the search is taking longer than I’d like? How can I call her “not real” just because The Fogeys insist?
“I’m a Huxley. I don’t give up.”
Dad downs his whiskey. He’s stressed. Aunt Jeremiah swirls her wine glass, her unblinking eyes on me. Grandmother merely taps the table.
“Even if you may never be a partner?” Grandmother says finally.
“Even then.” My eyes slide over to Dad. “There are other firms.” A bluff. I can’t imagine myself anywhere but Huxley & Webber. It’s a family legacy, something I’ve rightfully earned through my hard work. However, you can’t negotiate from a position of weakness.
Grandmother inhales sharply, her face stiffening. “You’d betray the family for her?”
I give her a hard look. “Didn’t you betray me first by denying me the promotion I deserve?”
“Fine. Get married and settle down.”
What the hell?“Where am I going to find a wife?” I demand, wondering if they’re trying to maneuver me into an arranged marriage the way they did with my cousin, Huxley.
“That’s not our concern,” Grandmother says nonchalantly. “But prove to us you aren’t mad with obsession. Marry a good, respectable woman. Have a good, respectable family of your own.”
“I’ll marry a woman that fits your criteria before the annual review, and you’ll make me a junior partner this year,” I say.
“Ifyou marry by then.” Grandmother arches an eyebrow in a cool challenge. “But can you?”
“Don’t ever underestimate my will, Grandmother.” I look at the two elders seated on either side of her. “Father. Aunt. It won’t even take a month.”
“Then we’ll expect to be introduced to your wife in thirty days.” Aunt Jeremiah’s placid smile says the sky will fall first.
Chapter Three
Lareina
–twenty-seven days later
“I don’t know when she’s going to be up. But we can’t drag her out to get the marriage license like this. She looks like a bleached cabbage,” my aunt huffs, probably complaining to her husband or stepson Rupert.
