AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Since I’ll be spending a little more time in Kansas City over the next month with my lovely wife, I thought it would be nice to do dinner. With you and Miss Sugar Bowl, I mean.”
Ah, shit.
There it is.
“The wife’s coming up from Palm Beach, and she’s dying to meet your fiancée after what you sent down,” he says, “and I’ll admit I’m hardly less keen to meet the brains behind the Sugar Bowl’s magic.”
I stare at him.
I knew it was coming, another round of bizarre praise, but considering Junie won’t even take my calls, it lands like a stick in the eye.
“Anytime,” I tell him. There’s nothing else to say. “I’ll speak with her and see when we’ve both got a free evening.”
“Fantastic.” He gives me a wide smile, his eyes gleaming like a little boy. “I can’t wait.”
I fucking can.
I’m not excited for a fresh level of hell.
As soon as the tour wraps up with Haute and we glance at every stunning floor, dipping into a few of the many vacant studio spaces with their soaring ceilings, massive windows, and infinite remodeling opportunities, I’m done.
I head back home to contemplate another dinner date I can’t get out of—wishing like hell I could.
Mom managed to guilt trip all three of her sons into dinner at her place. It’s been an irregular ritual for as long as I can remember.
None of us have the heart to turn her down, even if we’re hardly enthused with another dysfunctional family gathering.
It’s bad enough that I’m going. Worse that my mind stays glued to who’snotthere tonight as I clean up and get ready.
Shit.
If Junie thoughtmyhouse was a castle, she’d probably black out if she saw the house we grew up in.
Mansion is an understatement.
This house is old-world charm and old money down to its soul, all stunning brick and an airy porch that could rival most restaurant patios.
It’s been in the family longer than I’ve been alive, the only home generations of Rorys have known. My great granddad even knew Harry Truman back when he was a mover and shaker with the Kansas City political machine, and having friends in high places helped land what was then prime real estate in a time when houses were the biggest symbols of wealth.
Hell, we wound up with a place a president could only dream of, considering Truman left office damn near broke and mostly depended on help from old friends back home to have a decent living.
Old friends like my grandparents.
Mom has never dreamed of selling or turning it over to a historical society, even if the old place is an expensive drag on her finances.
She’s always been happy living in the shadow of the past.
Unlike the rest of us, she just slipped into being a Rory when she was young without ever questioning it. Without the long nights soul searching, bothered by that shadow of a greatness I never had a damned thing to do with.
Patton and Archer’s cars are already parked in the huge driveway. I pull in behind them once I’m through the gate.
I’m instantly annoyed that I’m arriving late.
Archer never misses a reason to rake me over the coals, and Patton will just be a smug little prick that he made it here before me.
And now I’ve got this fake date with Haute and Junie simmering in the back of my mind.
It’s just bad fucking timing, all the way around.
