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“Can you facetime? I need to talk to you.”
“I’m literally going out to an appointment, Kell. Can it wait?”
“No, it can't. I'm worried about James.” Seems to be his standard answer at the moment.
“Okay, call me.” I cut the call and wait for the tone. I ring my assistant for effect and, as I answer the call to him, I say to her, “Hi Lori, can you call my next appointment and let them know I’ll be a few minutes late? Thanks.” I hang up before she can tell me I don’t have anything scheduled and turn my attention to Kellen. “What’s up with him? He seemed fine at breakfast this morning.”
“Evie, are you blind?”
I roll my eyes at him. “Not the last time I checked. Why? What is it?”
“He’s lost loads of weight, his eyes are sunken in his head. He’s worried about something, but he won’t say what.”
“Probably his exams,” I say dismissively. “They’re all getting a bit tetchy.”
“I asked him that and he said no. Besides, he’s got no pressure on them. I’m rich as fuck, so are you. He can work for four different businesses. Five, if he wants to go farming. Hell, six if you count something else he wants to set up for himself. He isn’t going to university, you and I both know this, so it’s not the exams.”
“You did not just claim he can blow off his exams because you are ‘rich as fuck.’ That is so elitist, Kellen.”
“Maybe, but it’s true. You know he can do anything he wants, he just has to decide what that is. So again, it’s not those fucking exams.” I look at him in confusion, I don’t know what he expects me to say. When I say nothing, he goes on, “And while we’re on about it, you look like shit.”
I hang up, pick my stuff up to leave the office, and he’s ringing back. I answer, stock greeting at the ready. “Hey, Kellen. What’s up?”
“Stop hanging up on me. I’m trying to sort things out with you.”
“Well, I don’t think there’s anything to sort, so not sure what I can say. I’ll go to the hairdressers, do you feel better now?”
“What’s going on? You’ve been way too nice since you ran out on me and my birthday. Everyone in your house looks awful. Even Bucky’s not bouncing around. They all look like the world is about to end. And, to be honest, the only person capable of causing that much chaos is you.” He’s glaring at me.
And I lose it.
“I’m getting pretty fed up with being got at, to be honest. It’s not my fault at all. I have done nothing. I’ve played ball with you. I’ve answered every ridiculous call you’ve made to me. I’ve agreed for you and all your entourage to come to my house, even fucking Isobel. Tell her if she doesn’t stop phoning me, I’m getting a restraining order. Or a hitman. And I am not even a little bit bothered about which it will be.”
He starts to laugh, “Thank god! There you are. I thought we’d lost you and a Stepford wife had replaced you.”
“No, still here,” I spit through gritted teeth. “Look, I’ll speak to James, but he’s said nothing to me. So I think you’re worrying over nothing.”
“I’m not, Kitten. I’ve watched him these past few weeks since he came back from France. He’s not been the same. To be fair, I don’t think any of us have.”
Oh that gentle voice. He deploys it so well. Good thing I don’t give a shit anymore.
“I’ll talk to him," I repeat, ignoring the last bit of his comment. “I’ll let you know the outcome.”
“I’m coming to London next week. Can I come to the house?”
Oh dear, gentle again. Wanker.
“Of course. We are the ultimate democracy. Greystone living,” I smile—fake, fake, fake. “What day are you coming? So I know to be out.” I grin at him as if I’m joking.
“Not sure yet. I’ll let James know. I’d like to see you in person when I come.”
Ah gentle again.
“You don’t need to. Facetime is fine for me. Don’t go out of your way.” Good old fashioned polite push backs. I love them!
“I know, but I’d like to. I’m worried about everyone. and Xa?—”
I interrupt him before he can say any more names. “Well, thank you so much for your concern, but there’s really no need. We are all totally fine. And to be fair, I’m not your issue. I’d say if I thought there was a problem with James that I couldn’t sort out.”
