Iappreciate that The Eclipse’s other patrons rarely visit more than a couple of times a week. It’s unlikely anyone’s noticed I’ve been stopping by much more often than usual except maybe the staff, who know better than to gossip.
Still, the sight of Grady Tadros stepping into the lounge at his father’s heels sends a waft of relief through me. If I find out everything I need today, I can take a break from pompous airs and subtle snubs.
I get the impression that Grady showed up mainly to appease his father. He sticks close to the older man as they receive their drinks and amble through the room, his face set in a vaguely dissatisfied expression.
Where else does he want to be that he’s been torn away from?
They pause to shoot the breeze with a few of his father’s associates. It doesn’t seem wise to interrupt theirconversations. I’m not sure I want to catch the elder Tadros’s notice at all—not if he might be tied up in a scheme against Elodie too.
It’s better for her and us if her matches continue to go under her enemies’ radar for as long as possible.
Two of the Luminary students Grady often gravitates to emerge through the front door. My skin tightens.
They’ll make it even harder for me to prod Grady the way I’d like.
Before they reach the lounge, I aim a light pulse of ephemera their way. Just enough to give them a hankering for a card game upstairs.
My patience pays off a few minutes later. The older Mr. Tadros eases away from his son and heads toward the back of the building, maybe to enjoy the patio in the temperate May weather.
I amble toward Grady before he has time to do more than set down his empty glass. The flick of his gaze over me tells me he knows who I am, even if he’s barely acknowledged me before.
“Tadros,” I say evenly with a dip of my head in greeting.
“Worth.” He rolls his shoulders as if finding the linen blazer he’s wearing too tight. “Pretty stodgy crowd here today, isn’t it?”
He didn’t notice his friends coming in then—good. And he’s given me a decent enough opening.
I offer a wry smile. “Seems like it’s trending that way lately. Maybe we need to find our own places to make the right connections.”
“Ah, we’ll take over the club eventually. Out with the old, in with the new.”
Grady’s unadulterated arrogance annoys me, but I keep my irritation out of my tone. “You haven’t been around much lately. Have you got some exciting project in the works or just found a better haunt for the time being?”
He might be over-confident, but he’s not an imbecile. Grady fixes his gaze on me with a more assessing air. “I’d say a little of both. Are you getting bored here?”
He’s trying to figure out why I started this conversation.
I deal out my words carefully. “I heard some of the other guys mention you’ve done well for yourself lately. I’m always interested to hear about new opportunities.”
“Those jerks have big mouths on them, don’t they.” Grady gives a light laugh, as if he wasn’t openly bragging here a week or so ago. “There’s nothing I can cut you in on, Worth. Some things you can’t reach for directly. You show what you’re made of, and it’s up to them whether they want to tap you.”
He makes a flippant gesture that stiffens as he lowers his hand. His mouth flattens as if he’s worried he’s let too much slip, not that I’m at all sure what he’s talking about.
I’m not going to risk using magic to directly nudge a guy near the top of his class and already hesitant, but I can’t resist one more mundane attempt at prying. “And if I wanted to make sure ‘they’ see what I’m showing…?”
Grady shakes his head. “We get the opportunities we’re meant for.”
He pulls away from me and meanders over to greet another club member who’s just arrived.
I clamp down on my initial flare of frustration. Of course that’s his attitude—as if opportunities are granted fairly from on high rather than dictated by circumstances and privilege.
Who exactly would be watching us and doing this tapping? The way Grady phrased it, I got the impression his plural referred to multiple people rather than a single figure whose gender he’s keeping vague.
Was the woman he got into the car with one of them? Or did that ride have nothing to do with the “moving and shaking” he was talking about last week?
Restless with the additional questions piling up in myhead, I wander into the hall, considering going upstairs and seeing whether Grady’s sometime companions might have more beans to spill. I’m just in time to observe his father ducking into one of the smaller rooms farther down the hall.
Hmm. He might be a better source of information.
