bottle is in his hand. He’s wearing a casual linen button-down shirt and pants. I can tell with only a cursory glance that he likes to work out.
“Tara, welcome! I’m so glad you could come.” He gives Mom a casual hug that lasts a second. “Where’s Jason?”
Her expression darkens for a moment, but she’s quick to put on a phony smile. “He couldn’t come. He feels awful, but he had an emergency at the warehouse.”
“That’s too bad.” He switches his attention to us. “And who do we have here?”
“This is my daughter, Charlie, and my son, Ben.”
“Hi.” I smile feebly, keeping my hands hidden behind my back.
“I’m Jonathan. Nice to meet you, Charlie.” He extends his hand, which I was afraid of. I have no choice but to shake it.
“Nice to meet you too.”
Mercifully, he’s one of those people who maintains eye contact—probably something to do with being a successful CEO—and he never glances at my blue hand. He shakes hands with Ben next and then returns his attention to Mom.
They’re talking shop now, which allows me to observe him more. His dark blond hair is peppered with gray, and expression marks deepen when he smiles, but other than that, he looks quite young. There’s no wedding ring on his finger. I remember Mom saying he was divorced, but a guy who looks like him and with all this money must have a young-looking girlfriend.
Charlie, you’re being judgmental. He could be single or dating someone his age.
I realize that with Mom distracted by her boss, this is the best opportunity for Ben and me to escape. I pull on his sleeve and point at the outdoor area where several people are mingling near the pool. He nods silently, and together, we slink away from Mom.
Most of the female guests are wearing summer dresses, which makes me stick out like a sore thumb. My turtleneck has to be black to boot. It’s not like I don’t own brighter colored sweaters. Maybe I was going for something that represented my mood, but now I’m regretting it.
“Let’s get something to drink,” Ben says.
I follow him to the bar, where a lanky ginger is prepping drinks like a pro. He moves so fast, I’m afraid he’s going to drop one of the bottles he’s handling.
When it’s our turn, I ask him, “Are you training for something?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never seen someone move that fast behind a bar, not even at a nightclub.”
He laughs. “I am actually practicing. I’m auditioning for the lead role in the remake of Cocktail next week.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is Cocktail that eighties movie with Tom Cruise?”
“Yep.” He bobs his head up and down. “So, what can I get you?”
“I’ll have a dry martini, please.” Ben casually leans his forearm against the bar, acting like he’s a leery thirty-year-old man, not sixteen.
The bartender chuckles. “Sure, pal. How about a Sprite?”
Ben steps away from the bar, returning to his old self. “Nah. I’ll have root beer if you have it.”
“Sure thing. And how about you, sugar?”
“Sugar?” I laugh.
“She’ll have a Blue Lagoon cocktail,” a hateful and familiar voice answers for me. “I think it’ll match her… suit.”
The bartender gives me a quizzical look, but I’m no longer interested in him.
Curling my hands into fists, I turn around. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Troy crosses his left arm over the sling and stares at me with eyes that are cold and ruthless. Gone is the good-guy persona. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“Charlie!” Jane walks over. “What are you doing here? Did Troy invite you?”
Oh my God. One of their parents must work for the same company Mom does. This is like a nightmare that will never end.
“No. I’m here with my mother. She works for Slate Corp.”
Troy’s eyebrows almost meet his hairline. “Your mother works for our father?”
“Wait. Jonathan is your dad?”
“Yeah,” Jane replies. “What a small world.”
“You don’t say,” I mumble.
“Hi, I’m Ben, Charlie’s brother.” He waves in Troy and Jane’s direction. “This is a really nice house.”
“Yeah, it’s cool.” She shrugs while Troy keeps glaring at me. “I’m Jane, by the way, Troy’s sister.”
“Are you in high school?”
“Yeah, it’s my senior year.”
“Uh, miss? Do you still want a drink?” the bartender asks.
I glance over my shoulder. “Just some water, please.”
“Right away.”
When I turn around, Troy is already going back to the house. He goes out of his way to not come near the pool, glancing at it as if some danger lurks in the crystalline water.