hadn’t been well enough to join them for dinner, but everyone seemed in good spirits. Used to the hand they’d been dealt, at least. Clementine hadn’t fully acclimated to the tall ceilings and elegant china, but the Davids couldn’t have been further from the money hungry tyrants she’d imagined.
“How long are you in Whichway?” Sylvia asked her.
A clump of chewed carrots lodged in Clementine’s throat. She glanced at Jack. It was a reflex. Look at him. Search him out. How long do you want me here? The way his eyes shone, she wondered if he could read her mind. “At least until the festival is over,” she said.
Sylvia’s face brightened. “At least?”
“Things are up in the air.”
“Is your job flexible?” Sylvia placed her knife and fork on her empty plate, the ends lined up neatly. Lucien had taught Clementine to do that. Keep her cutlery tidy. Big fork for the main course. Little fork for salad. All other spoons and forks memorized in case a mark took her to a fancy restaurant.
He hadn’t taught her how to navigate affections for a man, though. How to discuss her fictitious job with her date’s parents.
Colonel Blue retched by Jack’s feet, probably because Jack had been feeding the old dog chicken. He pushed his chair back to comfort the pup, while Chloe and Sylvia cooed from their seats. Clementine exhaled during the distraction, searched the room for a plausible job reply, but all she saw was artwork accenting the maroon walls: a Chagall, a prehistoric mask, and something modern with bold slashes of yellow she didn’t recognize. No Van Gogh, thank God.
She hadn’t seen it yet, hoped she wouldn’t encounter the painting before she’d decided what to do. Right now she was happy. Right now she had Jack and the memory of his kisses.
Right now she didn’t want to lie to his mother about her job.
When old Blue settled by Jack’s feet, Sylvia returned her attention to Clementine. “You were saying about your work?”
The chicken she’d eaten churned. She fisted the napkin on her lap.
“She can work remotely,” Jack said as he stood. “And I’d like to show her the sound room, if you’ll excuse us.”
“Can I come?” Chloe’s words rushed out as she tossed her napkin on her plate.
“Not this time, Ladybug.”
“But I wanna show Clementine the gold record.”
“And I’d like an hour alone with my date.”
His sister slumped and noisily flipped her fork.
“Leave them be, Chloe.” Sylvia’s no-nonsense tone suggested she was accustomed to laying down their family laws. “Your brother’s free time is valuable.” She turned to Jack. “Best if you make it an early night. We need you sharp for work. Your father needs that breakthrough.”
Tension edged Jack’s movements. “I’m aware.”
“Then you shouldn’t have come over last night.”
“Seriously? You think I should have told Chloe—” He cut his rant short.
Chloe paled. Sylvia pursed her lips.
“I have to check my phone,” Clementine said, breaking the tense silence. No need to partake in this family tête-à-tête.
“It was lovely to meet you,” Sylvia said. “Jack will be along shortly.”
He nodded. “I’ll meet you in the library.”
She left as their butler, Walter—who she’d learned cooked and cleaned and chauffeured the family around—floated in to clear the table. They really did have a manservant, and a maid, in a mansion that could go toe-to-toe with Wayne Manor. But she was no Rachel Dawes in this Bat World. She was Catwoman, and her Bruce Wayne had no clue to her secret identity.
She settled in the library, relieved to be away from job questions, and pulled out her phone. She hadn’t checked in since this morning, an eternity for her, but unplugging had been surprisingly exhilarating. She’d experienced real moments today, with real live people, instead of talking to her bearded dragon or texting Lucien.
On cue, a message from Lucien lit her screen. The first line sent her heart into her throat. By the time she’d finished reading, she’d almost bitten through her lip.
Lucien: We have a problem in Delhi. The orphanage contacted me. They’re being squeezed by some thugs. If we don’t send cash within the week, they’ll be shut down.
Clementine: Our last score. The diamond ring money? Is it gone?
Lucien: You asked me to spread as much around locally as I could. The rest went to the Cambodia project.
She had wanted to help out in New York, not just abroad, as much as possible without drawing attention. And the Cambodia project funded schools. All worthy causes. None of those facts dimmed her panic. If