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Mr. Meyer nods. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean we’dletjustabout anybody in on this.”
He clears his throat and shifts on his seat, before he crosses his arms in front of his chubby middle.
“You said you were new in town,” he says. “And you’re from...?”
“Boston,” I say. “Well, that’s where I’ve been living for the most part, since I graduated from Harvard.”
Can’t mention that part often enough. I drop my connection with that renowned institution at every opportunity I get, just in case they happen to catch a glimpse of my tattoos through the collar and sleeves of my stiffly ironed shirt or—God forbid—they may have come across my family name in a less than laudable manner in any way.
Up in Massachusetts and Rhode Island, our name is branded to such an extent that I saw no way for myself to establish a life outside of the shadows. My family is notoriously famous for a lot of things I’m not proud of, and I will never understand why my brothers insist on continuing the filthy deeds of my father even after his incarceration. It’s only a matter of time untilthepolice gets to them as well—and who is going to take care of our troubled little sister then?
Probably me. I will have to keep an eye on her.
“Ah, a wonderful school,” Mr. Meyer remarks, a look of appreciation on his face. “My son is hoping to get in next year.”
I prick up my ears, sensing an opportunity.
“I could give him some pointers if you’d like,” I tell him. “You know, tell him a little about what to expect and help with his application.”
Mr. Meyers eyes light up instantly. It’s the first time I see an actual smile on his face, natural and benevolent.
“That would be great, actually!”he says. “I’d really appreciate it—and so would he.”
He sits up, supporting himself on his elbows as he leans over.
Perfect. I got him.
“How about I introduce you two at the gala next weekend?”he suggests. “He’s coming with me, because I thought it would be a great opportunity for him to meet some important people. People like you.”
This could not be going any better. Mr. Meyer may not be aware of it, but he ran right into the trap I set up for him. Of course, I know he has a seventeen-year-old son, and of course I’m aware of that spoiled brat’s ambitions to get into that school.
This is why I’m here, talking to him instead of his business partner Mr. Briggs, who’s just as involved in this project as Mr. Meyer is.
“That sounds great,” I respond. “I will bring my fiancée.”
His eyes light up, and his eyebrows arch in surprise.
“Oh, how lovely,” he says. “Congratulations, Mr. Reid. Must be a recent development?”
Perfect. He took the bait, just like I thought he would. It’s the first time I’ve ever mentioned my alleged engagement to anyone—and I can already tell that it has the effect I was hoping for.
“Thank you,” I reply. “And yes, it is. I just popped the question last weekend.”
He chuckles. “Nerve wrecking, isn’t it? I remember when I asked my wife, Claudia, all those years ago… boy, was I nervous! I can’t understand how some people do this kind of thing in public.”
He laughs and I join in, nodding in agreement, as if I knew even in the slightest what it must have felt like. I don’t—and I doubt I ever will.
“You will have to tell us more about it at the gala,” he says—thankfully rising from his seat to bring our short meeting to an end. “I’m looking forward to meetingyour fiancée. I’ll tell my secretary to send you a proper invite.”
“Thank you,” I say, as I shake his hand.
I’m just about to leave the room when he adds: “Oh, what’s her name? We may need it for the invitation.”
“Katherine Davis, sir,” I respond.
He smiles at me. “Alright then.”
I cast him a polite nod and finally make my way out.
