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Where his.
Entire.
Family.
Has gathered.
And by the way, they know you were the girl hanging around the hospitalbeforewith the bird.
There seems to be some silent consensus when Mason takes Jameson into the penthouse and I follow them, Snowball asleep again in his cage. The elevator—it has an elevator, because penthouse—opens into a beautiful entryway.
“It wasn’t me this time,” Jameson says in his high-on-painkillers way. “I want credit.”
“Sure,” Mason says. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A blonde woman with striking blue eyes who looks like she’s probably around my age pops around the corner, and her mouth drops open. “Oh myGod, Jameson! Oh my God! What the hell!”
“Run-in with the cops, Rem. It looks worse than it is.”
“He’s lying,” Mason says. “It’s bad.”
“Remington.” Jameson’s hanging on Mason, unsteady on his feet. “This is Lily, my fiancée. Lily, this is my sister, Remy. She loves dirt.”
“I’m going to school for archeology. The dirt is just the cost of doing business. And I thought you said you didn’t know her.” Remy’s voice is light, but she’s obviously worried. I would be, too. Jameson looks like hell.
Jameson gasps. “I wouldneversay that.”
“Okay. Everybody’s in the living room, waiting for you.”
“I hope you didn’t keep Robin awake for this.” Jameson frowns at her.
“Nobody keeps Robin awake.” Mason somehow manages to sound proud and slightly irritated at the same time. “He doesn’t know the difference between day and night. Try not to scare him with your face.”
Jameson tries to salute Mason and almost falls over. Mason catches him with a subtle wince and a not-as-subtle grunt. “Okay. Couch. Let’s go.”
“Lily,” Jameson calls over his shoulder. “Angel.”
“Yes?” I must bebrightred. “I’m right here.”
“Would you be so kind as to bring my bird?”
“Um…yes.”
“Thankyou ever so much.”
Mason gives Jameson a look. “Did somebody make you a duke or something? Do you have lands?”
“I do,” Jameson says solemnly. “I have many lands. A veritably huge yard.”
Remy comes over and gives me a side-hug. “Hi. It’s nice to officially meet you. I’m sorry Jameson is being so weird.”
“It’s honestly not that bad? I think I would be more freaked out if he started acting like a staid businessman.”
I can picture it, actually. I can picture Jamesonpretendingto be a staid businessman. I can’t imagine him actually being one, or managing to keep up the pretense for more than a few minutes.
I always thought that if Ididever date anyone seriously, if I could fit that in around my prosecutorial career and judgeship, that it would have to be a man who trended toward a certain staid-ness. Someone with credentials. Someone who people trusted not to influence my judicial opinions.
Jamesondoeshave credentials, but he also has a record, which would have disqualified him in my theoretical future.
