Page 2 of Conceal


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“Mom’s coming too.”

That makes my brow lift, and I turn to my brother. “Does this mean you’re planning the wedding? Finally,” I add.

“Yes. It does,” Grayson says, his voice still tight. It’s as if we’re talking about a board meeting and not his future nuptials.

How hard would it be for him to smile? Is he this uptight all the time? I wonder if he’s like this in the bed—nope. Not going to go there.

“About time,” I respond, and as if on cue, the elevator opens again, making me turn my head to see who’s arrived now. This time, Addison, Oliver, and my mom make their way into the apartment.

I watch as they walk toward me. Addison looks beautiful as always. She’s dressed more casually than I’m used to, wearing black leggings, a sweater dress, and boots, but as she rarely comes into work these days, I shouldn’t be that surprised. There’s no need for a pantsuit if you’re not in the office.

Her hand rests on her rounded belly.

My older sister is starting to show.

Her face glows with happiness.

Grayson stands and walks over to her, wearing a smile on his face.

My brother appears to be excited. I can’t help but be a little jealous.

They both look so damn happy, Oliver included. Everyone has moved on with these lives they’ve made for themselves, and I have nothing to show at this point. Not true. I have a killer binge list for Netflix.

Once Grayson has stepped away, my mom is the first to hug me and then my sister. Oliver greets me with an outstretched hand. Polite like an English gentleman, but seeing as he is an earl, I’m not surprised.

“Dinner will be ready in a minute,” Grayson says, gesturing to the dining room.

“You cooked?” I ask my older brother.

“Hardly,” he grunts out as we head toward the table.

“River?”

He shakes his head. “Catered.” He shrugs like this question is ridiculous. To them, it might be, but to me, it’s not. I don’t have staff, nor do I have a cook. Yes, I have a large loft space and a private studio, but that’s only for my “second job.” I need those things to work. But I don’t allow anyone in those places. I can’t risk it.

Apparently, hacking is frowned upon by the United States Government.

We all settle at the table. It appears they’ve placed name cards down on it, which seems stuffy for a family dinner, but something tells me this is River’s first “dinner,” and she wants to impress. That thought makes me smile.

As I approach, I spot my seat beside Oliver’s, clear across the table from my brother. I wonder if that was on purpose. Grayson said he would try harder with me, but seeing as I never see him and rarely speak to him, I know he’s full of shit. And if these seating charts are anything to go by, it only confirms it. My brother hates me. What a dick.

Good thing I don’t care.

Or that’s what I tell myself as I sit down. I’m facing the window with a spectacular view of Central Park. The apartment has an open floor plan, so it’s only a few feet from the living room, the way it’s tucked away makes it feel intimate regardless.

When we’re seated, the waitstaff appears to serve the food, placing plates down in front of each one of us.

I’m not even sure where they were before. It’s like they simply materialized, appearing out of thin air to tend to us. I’ve got to hand it to Grayson and River. They sure know how to entertain.

Even if it’s pretentious as fuck.

I lean back in my chair and enjoy the presentation. After they serve the wine, I pick up my glass and take a sip. I’m about to take another one when my brother clears his throat.

“So, I’m sure you can imagine the reason we are here. With Addison pregnant, we were thinking of putting off the wedding until the spring or summer. After the baby is born.”

“How thoughtful.” She laughs.

“We’ve also been thinking a lot about it, and we’d like to get married in the Hamptons. Addy, will you be okay traveling with a newborn?” He’s facing her now, his eyes soft as he addresses the question.

“Yeah, totally. Depending on when you get married, the baby will be over three months old, so it will be fine. I might be sleep-deprived and exhausted, but I’ll be there.”

River laughs. “Okay, good.”

Grayson then coughs, and I turn my attention back to him.

“I’ll probably be working remotely a lot to help with the wedding planning.” His gaze is on me. The room feels like it’s getting hotter, and the walls are closing in on me.

He’s about to say something. Something that will affect me. He’s about to tell me, there’s no Santa, or worse, Mrs. Claus is a mass murderer. I’m not looking forward to it.

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