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Odin falls into step beside me.
“Good to see you, Madelena,” Caius says. He kisses my cheek and I shudder at how cold his skin is. Although it’s a rare sunny day, it’s below freezing. “Odin.” He shuffles the package and what looks to be mail around to shake Odin’s hand.
Odin hesitates, and I remember something else Caius had said about not being good enough. Not being wanted. I watch my brother-in-law’s face and I find I can’t feel sorry for him. I don’t know what it is about him, but I can’t. Although I am grateful when they shake hands and it’s not awkward.
“Where’s my brother? Brought some mail that came to the apartment.” He gestures to the letters and package he’s holding.
“He’s not here. I’ll take it,” I say, and he hands it all over.
“Couple of things are addressed to you.”
“Oh?”
“Mind if I come in? I wanted to grab some more things from my room.”
“Go ahead,” I tell him, then turn to Odin when Caius goes upstairs. “I’ll be right back. I’ll just drop these off in the office.”
“Sure,” he says, gaze following Caius up the stairs. He doesn’t like him any more than I do.
I carry the things into Santos’s office and set them on the desk, casually glancing through them. I find a box addressed to me.When I open it, I see it’s an iPhone. Santos came through. I take it out of its box and push the button to switch it on. As the welcome message flashes on the screen, Odin appears in the doorway.
“Hey. What is it?”
I hold up the phone and walk out into the hallway. “The phone Santos ordered.”
He smiles wide. “I’ll help you get it set up over lunch.”
“Someone say lunch?” Caius asks, hopping down the stairs with a duffel bag.
Odin and I exchange a glance.
“Oh, come on. Don’t be that way. I miss the cooking here.” He drops his duffel at the door and walks toward us. “Besides,” he starts, stepping between us and setting his hand at my lower back to guide me toward the kitchen as if I were an invalid. “I could use some company. Ana and I broke it off this morning.”
I look up at him. He has his free hand over his heart like he’s hurt. He’s not. I can hear it in his cool tone.
“Did you?” I ask, stepping away and folding my arms across my chest.
He grins. “She’s very clingy and possessive. Never did like that kind of woman. And she has a thing for you, Mad Elena.”
“Why are you such an asshole?” I walk away from him.
He catches up, takes my arm, and spins me around. “That was in poor taste. I’m sorry.”
“Fine. Let go.”
“She’s a bitch,” he says. “You were right about her.”
“I never said she was a bitch.” I tug free. And as far as being a bitch, she is, but I never told him that, did I?
“But you think it, and she is. Just being honest. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
18
SANTOS
Istalk into the private room of the spa that caters to Avarice’s elite and find my mother relaxed in a chair with four attendants around her. Two are polishing her fingernails, the other two her toenails.
“Santos.” She sits up from her leaning position, clearly surprised.
