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“It’s wonderful, er, Storm. Really.”
I could have face-palmed.‘Storm’, Lou? Really?
He brushed a lock of sandy hair away from his eyes. “These titles drive me nuts sometimes. They can be such a pain. You can just call me Beckett.”
He was giving me his real name? I didn’t think that was very common between the Devil’s Dozen members, although I supposed it wouldn’t be too hard for any of them to figure them out with a little digging.
But handing it over without a challenge felt like a peace offering.
I couldn’t help relaxing a little more. I could offer him the same in return. “I’m Luciana, but everyone calls me Lou.”
He tried it out. “Lou. Short and sweet, right to the point. I like it.”
“Pretty fond of it myself.”
He poked at a crawfish on his plate with seeming idleness, but his next question was anything but careless. “I have to admit, I’m curious why your mother wanted us to meet up right now. I’m assuming it wasn’t just an attempt at playing Cupid, but she was vague in her request.”
I hesitated. “And you agreed anyway?”
He shrugged with another glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I was curious. I like to know what’s going on with my counterparts.”
“Well, I—I’m not totally sure myself.” Maybe I could get more of an answer by acting ignorant than trying to play it cool like I had with Mara. “I haven’t been very involved in the Devil’s Dozen side of things before now. Have the Deadly Rose and the Storm families typically gotten along?”
How were relations between us now, in his perspective?
Beckett cocked his head, his gaze going pensive. “As far as I’m aware, we have. I don’t think we’ve associated much at all outside of the monthly meetings and occasional communication around the places where our territories border each other.”
I took a gamble. “I think maybe my mother would like to build more of an association. If you’re open to it. I could tell her that, if you are.”
The corners of Beckett’s eyes crinkled with another smile. “I guess that would depend on what the association involved. I have been glad to see her at the table, giving us a little break from the monotony of old white guys who think they run everything.”
I had to stifle a snort. “You’re a white guy too.”
Beckett laughed. “Sure, but hopefully you don’t think I’mold. I’d like to think my ideas about good business practices are at least a little different from the others. My dad and I have argued about that subject often enough.”
He was willing to challenge his father’s views? Was that why he was seen as the Storm now, even though from what Mom had said, his dad was still alive?
I didn’t know how to ask that without sounding way too nosy, but I filed the fact away for later and simply ventured, “It can be difficult getting the older generation to see things differently.”
“No kidding. But I believe in following my conscience and carving my own path if I need to.” His eyebrows lifted. “Just have to make sure I don’t piss off anyone quite so much that they decide it’s time to carvemeup.”
“Yeah.” My heart beat a little faster, but it felt right to admit, “I don’t always see eye to eye with my mother either. I’m… not sure I want to be in the whole business of running the Deadly Rose empire the way it is now.”
That was much safer than saying I had no interest in anything to do with it no matter how you sliced it.
Beckett nodded without any sign of shock. “You’ll get your chances to adjust course if you look for them. Once you start proving yourself, it’s harder for anyone to squash you down.”
“Right.” Despite my best efforts, my answering smile felt stiff.
Beckett took a sip of water with a thoughtful air. Then he dug into his pocket. “Look, I don’t know what your situation is exactly or how you’re dealing with it. But I have been there. If you think there’s anything I can do that might help, don’t hesitate to reach out. I mean that.”
He passed a business card over to me, a phone number and email address printed on it in bold lettering. I stared at it, my stomach flipping over, and quickly stuffed it into my purse.
“Thanks,” I said, willing down a flush of embarrassment. Had I sounded like Ineededhelp?
I did, didn’t I? I was in over my head, and I had no idea how to swim to shore. Or where a safe shoreline even was.
But could I ever trust another member of the Devil’s Dozen, even one who seemed as kind as Beckett did?
