If my words sting, he doesn’t show it. “Is that what you tell yourself? I swear, you could teach the CIA a thing or two about living a double life.”
“I’m not living a double life. She knows everything about me that matters. And if I’d known it wasyoushe was looking for, I would have brought her here sooner.”
A loud splintering crash startles us both and we look in the direction of the noise. The white brick fireplace is dripping with red wine and glass lays in shards on the floor.
“What the hell was that?” I ask when I realize my father threw his glass across the room.
“You wouldn’t stop talking and I needed you to.” He looks between us. “Oz, I want to enjoy my son attending his first Palm Sunday in a decade. Kwame, Oz is here to do what he does best, network.”
I sneer at Oz. “That’s right, go do your job so I can talk to my father alone.”
His expression doesn’t change but the corner of his left eye twitches from the effort it’s taking for him not to let his anger get the best of him. “I don’t take orders from you.”
I turn to my father. “Will you ask your dog to heel?”
“Shut up Kwame,” Oz snarls. “Or I’ll shut you up.” He takes a step toward me, and I get a tingle of excitement at the dangerous glint in his eyes.
I get to my feet, an amused smirk on my face. “Last time you triedthat, I broke your nose. Nice reconstruction by the way.”
His nostrils flare. “I let you land some licks that day because I didn’t want to hurt you.” He looks me up and down and grins. “Today, it’d be a fairer fight. Let’s see who's got the Palmer blood in him and who's just an accident of birth.”
I scoff. “Nothing you do will make you more than what you are. I really hope one day, that will feel like enough.”
“For fuck’s sake,” my father roars. “Why are you two still having this argument?”
Oz and I stare at each other, eyes burning with mutual disdain, lips clamped together in a show of mutual restraint.
Like a pair of clocks that broke at the same time, we agree one thing—this feud of ours isn’t for public consumption.
A pulsing beep from my father’s computer draws Oz’s eyes away from mine and his expression goes from furious to focused. My father moves aside for him as he rounds the desk to study my father’s computer monitor.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Something tripped an alarm at the lodge,” my father says absently.
He and Oz exchange a meaningful glance. “I’ll go check on it.” Oz straightens and heads to the door. He stops next to me and leans in long enough to whisper, “You’ll never win.”
Chapter Sixty
Sin
Curiosity Kills
“Alone at last.” Paloma sits down next to me. One of her expertly arched eyebrows lifted in question, her smile warm and interested.
“At last?” I parrot.
“I think Kwame’s been hiding you from us.”
“Has he?” I ask, still bewildered.
She laughs and leans forward. I’m not sure what to make of her. “Or maybe it’s us he’s hiding.”
I tilt my head, incredulous and skeptical. “You and Kwame are friends?”
She smiles. “We’re more like family, actually. You’re the first woman he’s ever brought here. You must be special.”
She’s smiling so warmly but I get the feeling she’s trying to remind me that I’m an outsider. I smile like I’m not bothered. “I hope so. He’s the love of my life,” I say it before I can catch myself.
