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“Anyone know what Ethan’s plans are?” Gage asks.
“When does anyone in this family know what Ethan’s plans are?” Callan says and I get the impression from the brothers’ responses that there’s some distance between them and their youngest brother. The fact that Bradford hasn’t spoken as much about Ethan as all his other family members over the years also lends itself to this thought.
“He’s not coming home for Christmas this year,” Ingrid says quietly, the sparkle disappearing from her eyes.
Edmund slips his arm around her waist and they share a moment before he looks around at the group. “Ethan is busy with work.” He says this in such a way that lets his sons know this is the end of that discussion.
Callan, however, mutters, “Ethan is busy doing what he does best. Avoiding his shit.”
Edmund eyes his son with disapproval and after that, the conversation soon shifts away from Ethan. Hayden takes charge and I sense he’s the manager of the brothers. The one with his finger on the pulse of everyone’s personality and needs. The supervisor making sure peace prevails as best it can. He’s commanding without being bossy, which I really like. It feels as if he’d keep everyone safe and looked after in a dire situation. Much like Bradford would. Watching them now, I think they maybe work in tandem to look out for their younger brothers.
They spend the next half hour entertaining me with stories of some of the dumb things Bradford’s done in his life, their words not mine. Callan mostly drives this conversation. He appears to love a fun time and seems to be the one who drags his brothers into trouble whenever he can.
I learn about the time Bradford broke his ankle while trying to impress a girl with his skateboarding skills when he was fourteen…having never been on a skateboard before. About the time he tried to impress another girl who loved art by painting a graffiti mural on an old warehouse…without first checking to ensure there were no security cameras. He spent weeks cleaning graffiti around New York after that. And about the Infamous Treehouse Incident in which he decided to build his brothers a treehouse at their grandparent’s estate when he was thirteen. It turns out I’ve found a job Bradford isn’t good at: building things with his hands. Everyone is in a fit of laughter by the time Callan finishes telling the story of the failed treehouse that was more like a park bench than a treehouse. And finally, I learn just how far my husband has come in the flirting department. He was known as the King of bad pickup lines when he was a teen. Callan’s pick for the worst was “Do you have a map? Because I just got lost in your eyes.” Gage chooses “Are you a magician? Whenever I look at you, everyone else disappears.” And Hayden pitches in with “Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got ‘FINE’ written all over you.”
“Oh my God.” I grin at Bradford as everyone laughs. “I can’t even put that boy and you together in my head as the same person. Were you really that bad at knowing what to say to girls?”
He gives me the equivalent of an eye roll. “They’re messing with you. I never used those lines.”
I look to his mom for the truth. “Did he?”
She laughs before shaking her head. “No, those lines were all Callan’s. It’s a wonder he had as many girlfriends as he did.”
“Yeah,” Hayden agrees. “Bradford never had to work hard to woo anyone. But everything else Callan just told you is true.”
Our conversation is interrupted when Alan arrives and pulls Bradford and Edmund away from us. I watch as Ingrid’s easy mood disappears, replaced with tense energy. It’s much the same as how my state of mind shifts, particularly when Alan’s unfriendly stare settles on me.
I’ve worked hard this week to do everything he’s expected of me at the social events Bradford and I have attended, yet nothing satisfies him. He’s criticized my choice of outfits (“too fashionable, Kristen, be more conservative”), my hair (“not subtle enough”), my shoes (“too high”), my smile (“you need to look remorseful, not happy”), my nails (“cut them”), and even my fucking voice (“too sexy”).
Criticizing my voice was a step too far. I told him in the sweetest tone I could muster that I was just using the voice that God gave me and surely he couldn’t find fault withthat. Needless to say, Alan and I are in a war. I think he knows I’d win the war if it really came down to it, simply because my husband is reckless, and that’s why he truly despises me. What he doesn’t know is that I would never allow Bradford to bethatreckless. The fact Bradford knows nothing of Alan’s war on every single thing about me is proof of that. My father’s constant disapproval has trained me well. I can deal with Alan for as long as it takes.
After Bradford and Edmund leave us, and her other sons drift away to talk among themselves, Ingrid draws her attention from Alan who she hasn’t taken her eyes off since he arrived. “I don’t know if you’re aware, Kristen, but my father and his father before him were both senators.”
“Yes, Bradford has told me.” He’s also shared with me that their marriage was one of convenience that their families wanted.
“My family and Edmund’s have political blood running through them. Every son knew what was expected of him. Every daughter knew she had to contribute too. Both Edmund and I did our part, and while he’s still working toward that goal, I quietly stopped years ago. I don’t go against him, but I don’t encourage my sons in that way anymore. I want different for them. I want them to be able to choose their own path in life. And to choose their own happiness.” She places her hand over mine. “Please keep letting Bradford choose you.”
I was not expecting that. Not in any way, shape or form, and it stuns me into silence.
We’re in the middle of this moment when Gage comes back to us. “It’s time to go.”
Ingrid gives him a nod before looking back at me. Squeezing my hand, she says softly, “Remember what I said. And keep your eye on Cecelia. That woman is the most vindictive woman I have ever met.”
40
Kristen
“Which of these women do you want to kill?” Adeline asks when she comes to stand with me at the gala about an hour into the night.
I glare at the woman who is talking with Bradford and another man across the ballroom. “The blonde who hasn’t shut up for the last five minutes and who keeps touching Bradford’s arm like it’s hers to touch. Oh, and about twenty other women who’ve already flirted with him.”
I’ve spent most of the night by my husband’s side as he networked and charmed his way around the gala. For a girl who has always loved the extravagance of this annual event with its exquisite glitter and grandeur, I’ve hardly noticed any of that tonight because the only things I’ve paid attention to are the women who want my man.
I turn to Adeline in time to see her studying her husband who is on the other side of the room also being ambushed by a woman. “The hazards of being married to a hot-ass man,” she muses.
“I’m being ridiculous, I know, but I can’t stop this jealousy and possessiveness even when I try.”
“You’re not being ridiculous. I completely understand.” She shifts her gaze from Jameson to me. “Alan’s at stabby levels of prickness tonight. How are you coping with him?”
