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“Like I keep telling you, Josephine, you can call us by our names,” Jasper said, giving her a small side hug. “You earned that right when we were tots. If not after changing our first diapers, at least by the hundredth.”
“It’s good to see you.” She leaned into him and hugged him back. Then she shook an accusing finger in my direction. “You, too.”
I gave her a curt nod. “Always.”
Sebastian hadn’t only inherited our father’s manor, but the staff who had worked for him. It grated on my nerves the way both father and son had acted as if human beings could be possessions.
Josephine cleared her throat and straightened, returning to the pretentious professionalism Sebastian required of her.Pluck.
“Would you care for a sip and bite before we get started?” Josephine asked, holding out the tray. “In the glasses is Chateau Lafite Rothschild 2010, a well-balanced, tannic taste with notes of tobacco, smoke, and blackcurrant.”
“Only a 2010?” I asked. “Surely Father’s cellars contain a more mature vintage.”
Jasper elbowed me in the ribs again, in the exact same spot. I was going to have a bruise there before the day was over.
Ignoring the pair of us, Josephine continued, “The sandwiches are prepared on ancient grain focaccia with smoked foie gras in place of the traditional cream cheese, flakes of white truffle, egg, and dill-infused cucumber.”
Glorified egg salad.
Jasper accepted both the food and drink.
“Thank you, but I’ve already had my fill of pretension for the day. I couldn’t withstand another bite,” I said.
“It’s not pretentious when the lifestyle is genuine to the person presenting it,” Jasper said.
“Come, you two.” Josephine led us to the study.
Jasper set his empty glass next to my untouched one on the tray. Josephine left us to walk into what had been our father’s study. Being in this building made me want to crawl out of my skin, a sentiment that grew more intense in the study.
Sebastian greeted us at the door with a cool smile and open arms.“Brothers!”
Jasper stepped into his embrace with a slap on Sebastian’s shoulder. I took a half-step back.
“Can you believe it’s been half a month since we’ve seen each other already?” Sebastian looked back and forth between the two of us.
No. And I wished it been longer.
“Too long,” Jasper said.
The room smelled of leather, cigars, and books. A large mahogany desk sat in the center of the room. A wooden globe was perched in the corner. Everything was ashehad kept it, including the shelves of untouched books.
My eyes landed on a golden bust on the corner of the desk—bust literally, as it was a statue of a naked woman’s torso.
Sebastian gestured for us to take seats. He, of course, sat in Father’s chair. With his golden skin, blond hair, and yacht club attire—white pants, navy jacket, striped shirt—Sebastian appeared every ounce the pompous blowhard that he was.
He leaned back and propped his leather boat shoes in the center of Father’s desk. Inwardly, I cringed. A tangle of conflicting emotion wrestled in my gut. Part of me wanted to congratulate Sebastian for his ability to disrespect our father in such a way, with seemingly no remorse. Part of me wanted to slap his feet off the desk.
Jasper and I took our seats. I kept my hands to myself.
“You both must tell me what you’ve been up to,” Sebastian said. “I’ll go first.”
What had I been up to? Nothing different than I had been the two weeks prior—work. I’d fielded late-night “emergency” phone calls from the media executives begging for more money or crying about ratings, and worked on familiarizing myself with the particulars of my share of Carrington Incorporated. Only a month had passed since I’d taken over, so I was still working out the particulars of the media division.
Outside of work, the only activity I’d partaken in over the last two weeks was a trick on the part of my assistant Elsie. Friday night, she’d pretended I had a meeting, but when I arrived, I found myself at a carnival with no associates of Carrington Incorporated in sight. I should have realized her ruse when she’d told me to dress casually. Apparently I’d been in need of “some fun.”
Most of the outing had been a waste of time. But not the part where I’d met a most peculiar and peculiarly charming woman. It was her costume that first caught my eye. She’d been dressed like the boy from my favorite childhood Christmas movie. But it was her crooked smile and the fact that she’d thrown a wild animal at my head that made her unforgettable.
“I finally took that private tour of the Mediterranean,” Sebastian said. “If you haven’t chartered a yacht for ten days to unwind on the pristine waters off the coast of Greece, you must.”
