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“What about it?”
Elia taps his dimpled chin with his index finger. “Can you tell me how many major groups of animals live in the ocean?”
Blinking, I sit up straighter, my spine stiffening. “What are—”
“Or what percent of our planet’s water supply comes from the ocean?”
I groan and collapse to my side, covering my face with my hands, peeking out at him through the spaces between my fingers. He looks dapper in his typical all-black suit, the style mandatory among the Montaltos and a stark contrast from the casual all-black attire Kieran usually wears. In fact, the only time I’ve seen him in a suit was the night of the fundraiser, and it’s becoming harder to imagine him that dressed up again.
“Jules.” Elia frowns, flicking my knee, drawing me from my thoughts. “What are you doing?”
“Dying. Is it not obvious?”
Rolling his eyes, he settles back against the couch and stretches an arm over the back, studying me. His gray eyes rove over my face, searching for something—what, I have no idea. They probe, unwelcome, making me squirm. “You know I get donor emails from Farmington, right? Emails that keep me updated on the ways the school likes to spend my money.”
My throat tightens, closing around the words that die on the way up. Apprehension swims in my veins, making everything in my body lock up as our gazes connect. I swallow, my voice hoarse when I’m finally able to speak. “I… didn’t know you were a donor.”
“I wasn’t.” He crosses one leg over his knee, resting his thick wrist on top. His suit jacket sleeve rides up, revealing a ridiculously gaudy watch that I think he only wears when he needs to intimidate someone. Because money is the greatest bit of leverage a person can have. “Until your father passed, and your mother skipped town. Caroline and I took over dependency roles, mainly for tax purposes, but that also had to do with your financial aid for school.”
Fire rains down my esophagus, landing in my gut and incinerating everything on sight.
“I’m on scholarship.”
“Even scholarship students fill out financial aid paperwork, in case something isn’t covered in your award money.” Cocking an eyebrow, he gives me a pointed look. “I don’t recall helping you fill anything like that out.”
“Maybe you forgot?”
A smile tugs at his lips, making him look slightly younger than his thirty-two years. For a moment, he looks more like the brother I’ve come to know, relaxed and at ease in his living room—closer to the man he lets himself be around my sister and his daughter—but then he blinks and it ends. His stormy eyes bore into mine, an accusation on his tongue, and I brace myself for the verbal assault.
But it doesn’t come. Instead, he relaxes into the couch cushions, props his feet—clad in ridiculously expensive Italian leather—on the coffee table, and closes his eyes. Mimicking my stance.
“What’re you doing?”
One eye pops open just long enough to peek at me, and shuts again. “Nursing a hangover, same as you.”
“I’m not—”
“Juliet. Let’s limit our lies for the afternoon, shall we? If you don’t deny anything, I don’t have to pretend later to your sister that you’re fine.”
“But Iamfine.”
He’s quiet for a long, long time, the only sound in the spacious living room our deep, level breathing. I tuck my head into the cushion behind me, staring up at the ceiling fan as it spins, taking my gaze around and around with it.
“It doesn’t help, does it?” He says finally, his voice low. Upstairs, a door opens at the end of the hallway—Caroline checking on Poppy after her nap—and he glances back as if to make sure we’re still alone. “The drinking. Our demons always come back when we recover.”
Pinching my eyes closed, I let out a soft breath, trying to ignore the sadness pumping through me. The weight of his words feels like a burden on my chest, heavy and suffocating, even though I know he doesn’t know exactly what he’s talking about. Doesn’t know how deep my darkness and misery run.
Heaving a sigh, I feel the couch shift and his palm grips my knee, giving it a tight squeeze. “If you really want to enroll at UNE and make it look like a seamless transfer to your sister, I’m gonna need you to do something for me.”
My throat constricts as my eyes pop open. “How did you—”
“Mailers.” Pulling a folded, colorful flyer from his pocket, he smooths the admissions paper on his leg and holds it out. “I can get you in for late summer, if you want.”
I stare at the paper, my heart thudding against my ribcage. Anxiety washes through me, my father’s belief that I’d never finish my degree running on repeat in my mind, making me hesitate. After a moment, I sigh, letting the flyer fall to the couch. “I can’t. I already missed the application deadline, and I—”
Elia holds up his hand, cutting me off. “King of King’s Trace, sweetheart. Not to mention married to a high-profile alumni. If you really want to go there, and youreallywant to continue majoring in marine biology, I can pull strings and have it done. Universities bend over backward for the right amount of money.”
“Are you gonna tell Caroline that I’m not currently a student?”
