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I curb my instinct to step in front of her, because she doesn’t need it, and because I don’t want even the four people in the room to think I believe she needs it.
And of course, she handles it like a pro, stepping right up to him and offering her hand to shake before he’s even had enough time to stand.
“Mr. Dempsey, I’d say it’s a pleasure, but I’m not a liar.”
His smile grows impossibly bigger as he shakes her hand.
“I despise liars.”
She doesn’t say anything to that but instead moves on to Colby.
“Mr. Major, I’m a fan and hope you’ll be back behind your desk soon.”
“I don’t know about that,” he says, his voice full of caution. Maybe her nonchalance with Eian threw him off balance.
“I’m sure Michael would take you back in a heartbeat,” she counters, and it’s Eian who pipes up at that.
“That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.”
“Yeah,” Colby snaps with his usual attitude back now that he’s talking to his—shudder—boyfriend. “And the second people find out you and I are together they’re just going to fire me again, and no matter who vouches for me, my reputation will be irreparable. Again.”
“You know that wouldn’t happen,” Harrison argues this time, and Liv and I are now just casual bystanders to what I’m assuming is a pretty regular family argument.
“I’m fine doing investigative work for the family,” Colby grumbles at Harrison, losing his steam surprisingly fast.
I’m kind of disappointed when the rest file in before the argument can really get going, but soon enough there’s a lot more to focus on.
“She’s claiming self-defense,” Baron says after Harrison gives him the floor to talk about Jim’s murder.
“Fucking hell,” I mumble, anticipating the headache this is going to cause me.
Liv goes completely still next to me, and doesn’t seem to react when Baron continues.
“The DA wants to depose all of you. The investigation is far from over, especially now that she’s claimed self-defense, but he wants to start prepping for the trial anyway.” The way he says it has the hair on the back of my neck standing.
“The boys?” I ask, only managing a whisper because . . . Fuck, I’m the one who’s supposed to protect them.
Baron nods. “All of you, all of your mothers, all employees.” He lets that terrifying list hang in the room for a moment, and I . . . I don’t know what I feel.
The thought of my mother coming back to the city for Jim’s murder but never for anything to do with me burns, I can’t lie, but I’m not sure if it’s because I want to hate her or because I know I’ll never be able to.
“I want Beatrice to help you with this, if that’s okay with you. I’ll be available, of course. But I think it’s a good opportunity for her to get some valuable experience.”
“Sure,” I say easily. If I know anything, I know that Beatrice Alton is at least as smart as her father.
“I’m just going to say it,” Richard Cockerton butts in loudly from the other side of the table. “We’re all thinking it, right?” He looks around and I don’t bother doing the same. I just want him to get to the fucking point so this meeting can be over.
“What exactly are we all thinking?” Harrison asks him.
“We all know who is actually behind Jim’s death, right?”
This time, I do look around, and find several faces turning . . . to me.
I laugh, it’s instinct, but it also helps me keep my careless image, which is how I want most of the people here to think of me—like I’m just Jim’s lackey and don’t give two shits about anything but the Demons’ next season.
“Seriously,” Richard continues, waving a hand in my direction, and clearly undeterred by the absolute silence that follows my laugh. “He’s the one who inherited everything, and he obviously knew that’s what would happen.”
I sigh, and look right at him, let him see how little I actually care about his stupid-ass claims.
