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He’s so casually arrogant, he can’t help smirking as he washes his hands. “I did. I knew he wasn’t smart enough to interpret the taunt, so I wasn’t worried.”
“Last night you seemed to imply there was a… that Blue Bloods never admit to being Blue Bloods or something like that. But your stepdad told you?”
And now you’re kind of telling me?
He finishes drying his hands and drops the towel on the counter, then he turns to face me. “He didn’t tell me. He told my mom, and she told me. Secrets can kill marriages, so you’re allowed to tell your wife you’re a Blue Blood if you want to. It’s entirely at your discretion, and you’re advised not to if she’s petty or too chatty, because if she pisses off the wrong people with her loose lips, there will be a bad outcome. Knowing can be dangerous, especially after graduation. Then it’s not just your brothers that you know well and trust individually. Then there’s a much larger network of Blue Bloods to consider, all with varying degrees of ruthlessness and a lot more to lose. Around campus, people like to guess who belongs to what society and whisper rumors about the darker shit they get up to, but once you get out into the real world, you don’t want outsiders to know about the source of your power and connections. And you don’t get to be a Blue Blood by being a boy scout, so these are men who would kill to protect their secrets. But they’ll kill to protect yours, too, so… you just have to weigh the risks and advantages like with anything else.”
“So they’re allowed to tell their wives, but then if there’s a messy divorce or something and she decides to air out his dirty laundry…”
“Airing out the wrong piece will get her killed. Yeah. Some guys don’t tell their wives. They don’t trust them enough, or they don’t want to give them that responsibility—or they know they’re going to be a shitty husband, so they know better than to give her ammunition she’ll want to use against them someday. It can be that they’re just protecting her. Everybody has their own reasons, but it’s a personal choice. It’s easy enough to hide if you don’t mind lying to her. They’re college friends, maybe you made them organically. If one of their connections comes through for you, it could be as simple as that. It’s harder to make it through college without it wrecking your relationship if you don’t tell, though. She has to really trust you because sometimes you’ll have shit to do, and you’ll just disappear for a while. She can’t know where you’re at or who you’re with or even what you’re doing, and she can’t reach you. If you live together, she’ll know you didn’t come home one night, and she won’t know why. Yeah, you can tell her you were with your friends, but girls tend to get suspicious of stuff like that. Eventually, she’s bound to get fed up with you hiding things from her and try to figure out what’s going on for herself, and she’ll guess wrong. People come at situations with only their own knowledge and experiences to shape their perception, and she doesn’t have a point of reference to guess what you’re really doing.”
I nod. “So you’re out doing dark and dangerous deeds, and she’s convinced you’re a cheating bastard because her last boyfriend was.”
“Exactly. And sometimes it’s safer just to let her think that. One of my brothers has a notorious reputation around campus as a serial cheater, bounces from relationship to relationship. They never last long because the first time he has to do something, because of his reputation, his latest girl jumps all over him because she’s convinced he was out cheating. The funny part is, I don’t think he’s ever cheated on a girl in his life. In order to be a Blue Blood, you have to have a demonstrable capacity for loyalty. You have to be capable of discretion and looking at the bigger picture. You have to possess self-control and have good judgement; you have to be someone who considers the consequences of your actions before you act. You can’t be some flighty fucking idiot whose head can be turned by anything in a short enough skirt. There’s no value in having brothers like that. You can’t rely on them. So while we all laugh about it when another relationship explodes because he’s not serious enough about any of them to tell them he’s a Blue Blood, there’s an element to it that’s like… did they even know him? If they did, they wouldn’t think he’s out cheating.”
“Sure, but it sounds like because of his Blue Blood activities, he starts engaging in seemingly shady behaviors early in the relationship before that trust has a chance to be developed. Maybe they haven’t had a chance to get to know him yet.”
He nods. “Yeah, sometimes. But that’s why, unless they’re committed to marriage and either honest or particularly skilled at keeping their partner contentedly in the dark, Blue Bloods don’t famously have very successful romantic relationships.”
“Marriage or bust.”
“Pretty much. Dating doesn’t work for us. Too temporary.”
“Are there… any exceptions?”
I have to ask because while I’m deeply interested in the dynamics of his world, I’m also wondering…
Why is he telling me?
He’s clearly not meant to.
“Exceptions?”
I try not to be obvious, but I feel like my voice gives me away when I ask, “Are you only allowed to tell wives? There’s no other exception? Like, you can’t tell anyone else?”
“If you have a son you think has the potential to be a Blue Blood and he’s attending Calhoun as a legacy, you can tell him. Or if you have a daughter you’d like to marry off to a Blue Blood. You can tell her—or you can just tell them, and if anyone is potentially interested, he’ll find her.”
“But there’s no exception for other women.”
His gaze cuts to mine, and my tummy flutters. “No,” he says simply.
He lets that sit there for a moment, watches the movement of my throat as I swallow, then he goes on.
“But we’re all free to make our own decisions—and to live with the consequences of our choices. We know the stakes if we risk confiding in someone that we believe we can trust and it turns out we’re wrong, and while a Blue Blood is expected to have sound judgment, no one is perfect. Your brothers will support you through the first mistake. Past that, it’s no longer considered a mistake, but a deliberate choice to be reckless. It’s kinda like your advisors, you have to convince them about a class you want to take if they don’t agree it’s right for your degree. You can persuade the Blue Bloods to give you another chance if your mistake was reasonable and you’re committed to making it right, but they don’t hand out chances like candy, so you’d better be more careful going forward. If you slip up once and learn from it, no problem. If you slip up again, you’ll have to face a council of Blue Bloods and explain yourself.”
“Sounds intense.”
“It is. Your fate is in their hands. It’s pretty common knowledge that if you tell one person, you’re putting them at risk. You tell three people, you’re putting yourself at risk. And if the Blue Bloods decide they made the wrong choice recruiting you…”
“Membership revoked,” I guess.
He cracks a smile. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”
“Have you ever told anyone any of this before?” I ask softly.
“No.”
Dinner seemingly forgotten, he approaches me, closing the distance between us in the kitchen. Instinctively, I back up against the counter. “Are you putting me in danger by telling me?” I ask with forced lightness.
