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Therehadto be something to it.
Especially with Soren’s revelation about money being hidden, which there was no explanation for outside of my father’s greed.
It was all just fucking suspicious.
I made a mental note to fast track the hiring of a forensic accountant. The sooner we understood what was happening—and how much trouble we might be in—the better. I entered the house through the garage, intending to make my way straight to my room before I was interrupted.
By Henry.
“Mr. Sterling has requested your presence on the terrace for dinner.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Requested? Why does that feel like that a very generous interpretation?”
Instead of answering, Henry simply smirked, gesturing toward the walkway that led out to the oversized second floor balcony.
“I don’t even get to shower, change out of my work clothes?” I asked.
Henry shook his head. “He’s been waiting for you since you left the store.”
Oh.
Shit.
I didn’t feel any need to rush, but I also didn’t offer any further argument. I dumped my bag and everything else on a nearby side table, and headed down the hall, opening the door to step outside.
For a fireside dinner.
“It’s a little cold for this, don’t you think?” I asked.
Orion’s back was turned, staring out at the trees that surrounded the property.
“The fire is more than sufficient temperature control. Come sit down.”
Hm.
It occurred to me then that he never replied to my text from earlier and I was getting the feeling now that I’d done something to upset him.
As if this day needed a single shred more drama.
Dragging my feet was pointless. If we were about to go blow for blow—verbally—I’d much rather get the shit over with. I marched up to the table, kicked my shoes off, and picked up the bottle of wine I assumed was supposed to accent the meal. Without even pulling the cover off to see what it was, I pushed the plate away from me and brought my wine glass closer, pouring myself a generous serving as Orion watched intently.
I didn’t say anything.
Just finished pouring, put the bottle down, and picked my wine glass up, taking a generous sip before I met his gaze.
He smirked. “Seems like you’ve had quite an eventful day.”
“This one? No. It’s just lasted approximately a hundred years and some change.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad you’re able to maintain a sense of humor about it.”
“Sometimes it’s the only thing you can do.”
“Indeed.”
When Orion picked up his drink, I noticed it wasn’t a wine glass, or wine at all. The liquid was a dark amber, flashing gold in the occasional flicker of the firelight.
Probably bourbon.
