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Hugo gave Charlie a look that all but screamed “what the fuck” but, ever the gentleman, he managed to replace it with a quick smile, shaking each of her brothers’ hands. “We will, perhaps, get one of those bomb robots for opening our mail.”
Charlie begrudgingly followed suit, trying not to think too hard about Sylvia’s plans. She still believed they could convince Eric to allow them to date. He knew better, which left him to wonder—and worry.
Would Sylvia throw caution to the wind? Join the Masters’ Admiralty and tie her life to theirs? Or would she simply help them question Alicia, then return to the loving arms of her insane brothers?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sylvia stood on her front porch, taking a long look around her beloved street, recalling all the good times she’d had here—as a child, reenacting scenes from Star Wars in the summers, or sitting cross-legged in the grass as she sketched. As an adult, sipping lemonade in the early evenings with Grandma, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.
She glanced down at her brand-new pale purple cast, courtesy of Langston and Walt. After they left the hospital, her brothers printed it out, then they came here so Walt could put it on. She wiggled her arm, amazed at the sturdiness of the cast despite the fact that instead of one solid piece, it was more of a honeycomb, which meant she’d be able to shower with it. Her index finger and thumb were free, but her last three fingers were held in a slightly curled position. Amazingly, there was no pain in her hand.
Thank God for Walt and Percocet.
The triplets had only left a few minutes ago, and Sylvia was still trying to ward off the desire to cry. As brilliant and stupid, as protective and annoying as they were, she would miss them all terribly.
She’d never really considered leaving this place, though somewhere in the back of her mind, she must have known she would. Sylvia would have expected to feel sad, would have thought she’d view moving out as the end of something.
In truth, it was just the beginning.
A limousine pulled into the driveway, alerting Hugo and Lancelot—no, Charlie; that would take some getting used to—that they had company. Both men stepped out onto the porch, each carrying two suitcases. She hadn’t been sure how much to bring, but considering they were flying to Europe on a private plane, they’d told her not to hold back. She could tell by their faces they hadn’t realized the extent of her love of not just clothes and shoes, but also of sketch pads, drawing pencils and journals.
Hugo set down one of the bags, the loud banging sound proving he’d picked up the heaviest one. “What’s in there? Bricks?”
She smiled, but before she could respond, both men’s attention was drawn to the limo.
Eric climbed out of the back. It occurred to her, given the man’s immense height and build, a limo was probably the most comfortable vehicle for him.
“You aren’t the only one with giants swinging in the family tree,” she murmured to Charlie, who grinned.
“Fleet Admiral,” Hugo said, as Eric approached the porch. “When you said you’d send a car around, we didn’t realize—”
“Surprise, no limo sex for you. Well, unless you’re into me watching.” Eric looked at the suitcases. “Pink suitcases. The girl’s coming. Good.”
Sylvia nodded. “I told you at the hospital, I would travel with you to offer whatever assistance I could with Alicia.”
Eric’s eyes narrowed. “And?”
“And?” she asked.
“What else?”
Sylvia wasn’t sure how to reply.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” He looked at Hugo and Charlie. “Is that everything?”
Both men looked at her. She smiled at their hopeful-slash-worried expressions. “That’s it. For this trip,” she added.
Hugo blew out a long breath and muttered, “All of this will never fit in my flat.”
“Put her stuff in the car. Then put yourselves in the car. Ms. Hayden and I are going to talk,” Eric said.
Hugo and Charlie loaded the trunk, but then Charlie started back toward the porch, as if he were going to stand guard over her.
Eric turned to him. Sylvia couldn’t see his face, but whatever expression was there made Charlie stop, his jaw muscle flexing. He turned and stalked back to the limo. Hugo put a hand on his shoulder, and then they climbed in.
Eric turned back to her, his face unreadable. “Are you joining the Masters’ Admiralty or not?”
She recalled Juliette’s reminder that if she joined, she would be leaving home, but that didn’t scare her. In fact, the only thing giving her the tiniest moment of pause was trying to figure out how she was going to tell her mama—about her sudden move overseas, and about Hugo and Charlie.
