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ChapterSix
“Ajob?” Mom is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Ajobjob?”
I wince. We’re seated by the enormous swimming pool in the sprawling backyard of my parents’ summer mansion in North Shore. It’s been a whole week since my wedding, and five days since my night out with Callie, and I’ve done my best to avoid talking about the new world order with my family. Hell, that way I can at leastpretendthings are still like they used to be. But I’m in their domain here, even relaxing as we are for this so-called “social visit,” and I’m under no illusions that they won’t pry if they think it’s necessary.
“Er, yes,” I reply, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “At an art gallery.”
“You mean as a curator? A director?”
I clear my throat. “More of an... assistant.”
Violet frowns in confusion, and Mom glances at Dad, clearly confused. “Why on earth would you do that?”
“Come on,” I reply with a nervous laugh. “You guys know how I feel about art. I’ve already paid my dues to the family by marrying Lucas, haven’t I?” I look from one to the next, and their silence tells me everything I need to know. “Besides,” I press on, “I’d like to do something meaningful with my time. Something out of the public eye. Hell,” I add, biting my lip, “I may even be able to make us some useful connections in the art world.”
Dad’s brows furrow, and he crosses his arms, mulling it over with one of his famous head tilts. “There’s no guarantee you’ll enjoy it,” he finally says, “and I can’t say how much of a difference you’ll make as an assistant. But if this is something you’re really interested in, then... maybe it’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”
I exhale in relief and astonishment, even as Mom turns to him and says, “I’m surprised at you, Andrew.”
“Vivian is right,” Dad tells her. “Shehasdone us proud with Lucas. If she wants to spread her wings a little, I see nothing wrong with that. But there is one thing to consider before I say yes.” He leans forward in his beach chair, his eyes locked on me. “Which gallery are we talking about, exactly?”
I should’ve known he would go there. My conversation with Theo comes back to me in a flash, and I tense up.
You’d be surprised just how many Sterling pieces our family has bought and sold over the years.
“One of Craig Sterling’s,” I reply, and then risk adding, “I’m... guessing you’re aware of him.”
For a moment I’m sure I’ve overstepped, but then Dad replies, “Of course we’ve heard of him. He’s a meticulous businessman. Discreet. Knows his numbers. And he knows how to fly under the radar.”
“Sounds like you’ve done more than just look at his paintings,” I reply, emboldened a little.
Dad laughs. “You’re catching on fast, Vivian. Sometimes I forget you can be sharp when you’re not busy goofing off. We’ve bought and resold more of Sterling’s assets than I can count.” He leans back, folding his hands. “You seem surprised.”
“I am, a little,” I admit.
“Do you think I’m going to tell you everything we’ve done to stay out of the system?” Dad smiles, but it’s friendly, not sinister. “You still have a lot to learn, Vivian.”
“That much is obvious,” I reply.
“Finally noticed, eh?” Violet jokes.
I swat at her. “Quiet, you. The grown-ups are talking.”
“I’m older than you…!”
“Girls, girls!” Mom interjects. “Honestly, you’d think you were still in primary school.”
I stick my tongue out at Violet but do as I’m told, turning back to Dad. “So... is that a yes?”
Dad chuckles. “Something tells me you would do it whether we agreed or not.” His eyes narrow in contemplation, and I can tell there’s a catch coming. “Actually,” he says slowly, “this may be an opportunity for all of us.”
“In what way?” Mom asks. “I don’t see how Vivian playing secretary will help the family.”
“Given the volume of business we’ve done with Sterling in the past,” Dad explains, “it wouldn’t surprise me if other gangs on the London scene have as well. Maybe even the Emmerico’s.” He gives a thin, conspiratorial smile. “I’ll tell you what, Vivian,” he says, crossing his arms, “you have my full permission to work for Sterling, on one condition.”
“What condition is that?” I ask.
“If anyone noteworthy—especially anyone connected to the Emmerico family—does business with Sterling, inform me. I don’t expect them to double-cross us, not so soon, but if the numbers aren’t adding up, your voice will be a good resource.”
