Page 54
My stomach drops.
Kant. Kant. Why do I know that name?
I take a slow sip of wine, buying time.
“In what sense?” I ask smoothly.
“Well,” Charles says, in the patient tone people use with children and the elderly, “Kant’s philosophy is centered on individual morality and duty to principle. Confucius is more concerned with social harmony and hierarchy.”
I nod thoughtfully, as if this means literally anything to me.
“Yes,” I say carefully. “Kant was very focused on…those beliefs of his.”
A tiny silence lands on the table.
Leonard adjusts his glasses. “You mean the categorical imperative?”
I have absolutely no idea what that is.
“Exactly,” I say brightly. “Categories are obviously very important to society.”
Dad goes still beside me. Across the table, Charles and Leonard exchange a look so quick it almost doesn’t happen. Which somehow makes it worse.
I place my wine glass down with enormous precision.
“Excuse me,” I say, already standing. “I need the restroom.”
I walk away at a measured, graceful pace, the picture of poise, until I disappear around the corner of the wood-paneled hallway. The second I’m out of sight, I hike up my dress and practically sprint down the corridor. I stop outside the restroom, yank my phone from my clutch, and glare at the ridiculous name on screen.
BEST COCK EVER
I really need to change that.
I hit call and press the phone to my ear.
“Pick up,” I whisper desperately.
The line clicks.
“Hey,” Drew answers, calm and low.
“I thought you were supposed to be rescuing me from this nightmare,” I hiss, flattening myself against the wall.
“I’m handling it.”
“Well, handle it faster.”
“Yes, boss.” His voice turns dry with sarcasm.
I open my mouth to argue, but a loud crash explodes through the line. Glass shattering.
“What are you doing?”
The fire alarm erupts overhead with a brutal, ear-splitting shriek that rattles through the entire building. I jump so hard I nearly drop my phone.
A split second later, the sprinklers explode to life.
Ice-cold water pours down in heavy sheets, soaking through my dress in seconds. The fabric clings instantly to my skin, dragging against me, turning elegant into borderline indecent almost immediately. My hair sticks flat to my head. I can already feel mascara smudging beneath my eyes.
