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Chapter Twenty-Two - Delilah
“I’ve never been a big poker player, but I’m starting to think you’re cheating your ass off right now.”
“What would give you that idea?” Vincent flashes a roguish smile, shuffling the cards I dealt him.
“Because the odds of you having three of a kind four hands in a row are pretty slim, wouldn’t you say? I’m not a statistician, but…”
“Hey, it’s not like we’re playing for money, right?”
“So you are cheating!”
“I’m improving my odds of winning. There’s a big difference.” I can’t even be mad at him, that’s the worst part. He’s like a little boy, always gleefully trying to get his way. I don’t have the heart to call him on it, even if somebody needs to eventually.
“Are you ever going to grow up?” I ask it gently, with a smile, but I can see from the way he winces momentarily that the question hits him harder than I intended.
“Not if I can help it,” he finally replies with a wink. “I mean, if growing up means I can’t have fun anymore, what do I want with it?”
“So you’re going to spend the rest of your life hanging out, going to parties, sleeping around with random women?”
“Are you trying to convince me otherwise? Because from how you describe it, that sounds pretty damn good.”
“I’m serious.”
“And so am I. What’s the point of being the son of an extremely wealthy man from a powerful family if you can’t enjoy it a little? Luca would’ve taken our father’s place at the head of the family even if I was the older son. It’s what he’s suited for. He has the temperament. He has the patience. He has the smarts.”
“You’re pretty smart, too.”
“Stop. You’re flattering me.”
“Can you be serious for a minute?” I set the cards aside, propping my elbows on the counter. We’ve been in the kitchen all this time, enjoying the treats which Nora left in the fridge before heading out to visit her daughter for the weekend. The deep freezer and the pantry are both fully stocked, and I promised to take things out to defrost as needed. She deserves the time to herself after all the work she’s put in lately.
“What are you trying to get me to say?” he asks while reaching for his second brownie of the evening.
“You definitely have a place in the family. You understand how to get along with people better than Luca does, I think.”
“You’re not wrong about that.”
“That’s extremely valuable. The family needs somebody who can relate to people. You understand how to do that better than he does. At least, that’s what I’ve seen.”
“Like I said, you aren’t wrong.”
“So why not, I don’t know, make a niche for yourself? Be the family’s PR guy. Luca can do all the behind-the-scenes stuff, and you can screw the daughters of all the biggest families.”
He looks up from his brownie, eyes narrowing. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I would think you actually give a damn about us.”
What’s the point of pretending otherwise? “I’ve learned a thing or two since I got here, and my observational skills are unmatched.”
“No doubt. But that’s not the same as giving a shit. Which I think you do. I get it. You don’t want to admit it. But it’s true.” I shrug it off, picking up my cards again. How did this turn into a conversation about me, anyway?
“Since you’re so generous with your advice and observations, can I make an observation of my own?”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to regret saying yes?” I ask, staring down at my cards.
He only laughs. “I know my brother wanted you out of here, but you’re still here. And I know it must have hurt when Jock so gracefully told you it was time to go. He’s not exactly the best at managing things like that.”
“It came as a surprise.” That’s as much as I’m willing to say, and he accepts it without pushing me any further.
“But you’re still here. You could’ve gone, but you didn’t.”
