Page 48 of Claim

I glanced at him then. “Ollie should be reminded he never once managed to make me come without being told what to do.”

Theo tilted his head, dragging his gaze slowly over me. “I could—”

“You couldn’t.” I stepped back. “If you’ll excuse me.”

I didn’t wait for permission and drifted over to Father in time to see him cough into a tissue, fold it neatly, and slip it back into his inside pocket.

“Dad.” I inclined my head.

“Ah, Tristan.” He drew a handkerchief from his lapel and dabbed at his mouth before returning it, then reached for his G&T from the mantelpiece. His voice was rough. Crooked. I was used to it now, but moments like this stripped away the illusion that everything underneath was holding steady. “Glad you could find the time to make it.”

“I was under the impression attendance wasn’t optional.”

A smile touched his mouth. Polite. Distant. “Nevertheless, your presence has been noted. And appreciated.”

I nodded, then drifted my gaze deliberately over the room. To Wolfe, now deep in conversation with someone else, resting his hand too comfortably on a stranger’s elbow.

“I saw you speaking with Adrian.”

Father followed my glance, unhurried. “Yes. As you know, in rooms like this, work tends to circulate whether one invites it or not.”

“What are you working on with him?”

He took a sip of his drink before answering. Not evasive. Deliberate. Enough to make it clear the question hadn’t surprised him.

“Nothing new.” He shook his head. “Nothing you need concern yourself with.”

“I hear that a lot. That I shouldn’t concern myself. I’ve found it has the opposite effect.”

Father turned to me. His posture relaxed. His gaze, not so.

He sighed. “Imogen has taken an interesting brief.”

“She takes many.” I sipped my drink, trying not to give any indication I knew what he could possibly be referring to.

“So she does.” His tone remained conversational. “Though some attract more attention than others. Particularly when they intersect… awkwardly.”

“With what?” I asked, though I suspected exactly what Wolfe had been whispering into my father’s ear while I was being propositioned at my brother’s baby shower.

The paperwork wasn’t even stamped yet, and Wolfe had found the small print.

“With visibility,” Father replied. “Perception. And legacy.”

I felt the space between us tighten. “If you’re concerned about Imogen’s judgement, I’m sure she’d welcome the discussion.”

His smile returned, thin as paper. “I’m not concerned about Imogen. She knows exactly what she’s doing.”

“So who are you concerned for?”

Father shifted closer, lowering his voice to make the moment private without drawing notice. “Certain cases are not confined to courtrooms. They have a way of travelling. Of attaching themselves to the people involved.”

“I’m aware.”

“I expect you are.” He studied me for a beat longer, then straightened. “Be sure you’re aware of who is watching.”

I followed his gaze back to Wolfe.

Father finished his drink.