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“That would be amazing!” I beam, jumping forward to give him a big hug. I ignore the lingering look in his eyes afterwards. “You would do something like that?” My eyebrows raise. “I know you don’t like Emmett very much. And I shouldn’t be pulling you into all of this.”
“That’s the difference between me and the Elites,” he explains. “They may let their personal grievances get in the way of who they help and who they don’t. But at the end of the day, a person is missing and could be in danger. If I have some assistance to offer, I will.”
I smile at him and look away with flushed cheeks. This is the kind of thing that makes Malcolm so attractive, and I don’t know why I can’t make myself fall for him.
“It seems you’re a better guy than me,” I admit regretfully. “Sometimes I feel like the only reason why I want to find Bernadette is so I will have Emmett back all to myself.”
“Don’t beat yourself up too much,” he offers, lightly placing his hand over mine across the table. “She’s not exactly…a pleasant person.”
I think back to when my father shot Thomas Jameson. The sounds of Bernadette’s screams. She was mortified and devastated. Emmett was the one standing there with a calm, cool stare. But his determination to find his sister is somewhat redeeming. He can be loyal to his family. And protective. Just not towards his father.
I feel a renewed sense of hope as we drive to Malcolm’s. Maybe I can finally get a lead on this thing and prove to Emmett that I do care about what he’s going through. Originally, I’d wanted to find Bernadette so I could push Emmett out of my life again. But things changed quickly. Now I want us to find her so I can have more of him.
14
Chapter Fourteen
Malcolm’s mansion is nothing like Lily’s or Emmett’s. It’s clean and sleek. Nothing like the old-fashioned classical architecture I’ve seen everywhere else around here. And the inside is the same, with carpets and marble flooring so white I’m scared to walk on it, and bright white walls broken up by modern, abstract art pieces in bright colors that pop against the starkness.
“This place is exactly how I imagined it would be,” I marvel as I take in the clean, minimalist vibe, the big, open, almost too-empty rooms. He shoots me a discerning look. “I just mean…I envisioned it being really modern. With you and your dad being tech guys and all.”
“My place is actually around back,” he tells me as we walk through to the back doors. “I just wanted you to have a glance at the main house. My parents have great decorating taste.”
“You have your own place?”
“My dad already has me doing a lot of work for our company,” he explains. “Coding and developing. Things like that. So, they let me have the pool house so I’d have a quiet place to focus.”
“You’re really lucky,” I gape, wondering if the Hendersons are even wealthier than the Jamesons. It’s not too hard to imagine it by the looks of this place.
“I’m really busy,” he shrugs. “They know I stay focused on work and school and am getting ready to take over the company one day. I don’t fuck around. That’s why they trust me to have my own place like this.”
“Don’t you ever make any time for at least a little fun?” I tease as we walk out into the backyard of sprawling greens decorated with elaborate landscaping and lustrous fountains.
“I just took you to Ritzville tonight, didn’t I?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. You did and I ruined it.” I shrink in embarrassment. “I was a complete bummer and now I’m just dragging you into doing more work.”
“No, I love this kind of stuff,” he assures me. “It’s way more fun than my real work. I want to do work with investigations and the criminal justice system one day. This is right up my alley.”
“Oh…well, I guess I don’t feel so bad then.” He leads me past their glowing swimming pool to the house nestled behind it. The inside is a lot like his parents’ house, but darker and with a more eclectic vibe. “This place is almost more amazing than the main house. It’s so clean. Let me guess…maids? Everyone around here seems to have those.”
“No, actually,” he corrects me. “I clean it myself. It’s part of my routine. Helps me keep my head together.”
“Wow…new money really is different from old money,” I accidentally blurt out.
“How so?”
“Your work ethic and sense of responsibility,” I clarify, wishing I didn’t have such a big mouth.
“You mean old Emmett doesn’t have those kinds of things?” he chuckles back, making me feel terrible.
“No, he does. I’m sorry,” I wince, squeezing the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know why I said that. You seem to have that effec
t on me. I keep blurting out all sorts of things around you.”
“Well, here it is.” He waves his hands across the biggest desk I’ve ever seen, neatly organized with various screens and controls. “This is where I do all of my work.”
“It’s a lot more elaborate than my old laptop, that’s for sure.” I admire the setup, wondering what all of the different gadgets could possibly be for.
