The Havoc We Wreak - Becca Steele Page 0,27

Dad

Dad: Hello Weston. Did you get the email I sent you? I want you to be prepared for the new semester at university. The professors go easy on you in your first semester, but expect things to step up when you go back next week.

West: Yeah I did and I know. Do you want to get together with me and Cade before we go back to uni? Male bonding.

Dad: When would this be?

West: *shrug emoji* Whenever

Dad: What is the picture?

West: What picture? The emoji? It’s a person shrugging

Dad: You know I don’t approve of the use of emojis, Weston.

West: *eye roll emoji* *tongue out emoji* *crying laughing emoji*

West: Couldn’t resist

Dad: I’ll choose to ignore that. As for your original question, yes, I would like that. Very much. Could you clear it with my secretary?

West: OK. I’m on it. Thanks Dad

Dad: You’re welcome.

“See?” West said when I finished reading the thread and looked up from his phone. I slid the phone across the table towards him and sat back in my seat.

“I’m…surprised. No, I’m fucking shocked. When was the last time the three of us did anything together?” Weston shrugged, and I swiped a chunky chip from his bowl, dipping it in ketchup as I thought. “Any ideas on what to do? Not golf. Anything but that.”

“Get your own chips!” My brother glared at me, pulling the bowl out of my reach. Selfish bastard. I lunged across the table, tugging it out of his hands before he had a chance to react.

“You can be such an immature dickhead sometimes.”

“Takes one to know one,” I smirked at him, and he laughed.

“Fuck you. Gimme my chips back and you can share them.”

“Take your dad to the shooting range at Skirmish,” Zayde suggested, interrupting our potato-related negotiations. I swung my head around to look at him. I hadn’t realised he was listening, not that it should’ve come as a shock. Z was a sneaky fucker, always there, silent and deadly, noticing everything and never giving anything away.

“That’s not a bad idea. Dad likes clay pigeon shooting, doesn’t he? We could book a shooting session, have a bit of friendly competition.” Weston grinned at me, clearly liking the idea.

“Sort it and tell me when, and I’ll get in touch with Creed.” Zayde’s attention dropped back to his phone, his part in our conversation over.

“What the fuck is going on in my life?” I muttered. For so long, things had been the same. Now, everything was changing so fast I hardly recognised my own fucking life. Not that I wanted anything to go back to the way it was before. No. Change was good, and once again, it was my girlfriend I had to thank for it.

Back at the house, Zayde threw open the door and stopped dead. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll repeat. What. The. Fuck.”

We stared down the hallway. Streamers, balloons, fucking decorations everywhere in garish colours that assaulted my eyes. Never thought I’d need to wear sunglasses indoors. Until now.

An efficient-looking brunette woman holding a clipboard came striding down the hallway, her heels clipping against the floor.

“Who the fuck are you?” I asked.

“Cade! Don’t be so rude,” Weston hissed and shoved me out of the way.

“Weston Cavendish.” He took her hand, kissing it, and she fucking giggled.

“I’ll repeat. What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?” Zayde asked me under his breath.

“Ah.” Her face cleared, and she consulted the clipboard she was holding, flipping through the pages. She trailed a pencil down the sheet of paper she was studying, then tapped it triumphantly. “Weston Cavendish.” She made a tick on the page.

“This is Caiden Cavendish and Zayde Lowry,” Weston said, waving his hand in our direction, when neither of us made any attempt to say anything.

“Caiden…yes. Zayde…yes. Lovely.” She made another two ticks, and gave us a bright smile. “Welcome to Winter Huntington’s birthday party. I’m Maria, Ms. Huntington’s party planner. Please let me know if I can be of any assistance.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m afraid you’re three hours too early. While you’re waiting, please help yourself to refreshments in the kitchen.” With that, she clipped off up the stairs, leaving us staring at each other.

“Did she just welcome us to our own house?” Zayde’s voice was incredulous.

“Uh. Yeah, I think she did.”

“This has Cass written all over it,” Weston said, laughing as he eyed me and Zayde. “I can’t believe you two actually seem shocked about any of this.”

“Cassius Drummond!” I shouted, stalking down the hall. “You’ve got some explaining to