Huck (Golden Glades Henchmen #1) - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,43

lips. There was a familiar tight smile on her lips. "And who is this?" she asked, her gaze moving over Huck, likely trying to figure out what kind of suit he was wearing, what it cost, what that said about what he did for a living.

I knew a thing or two about suits, and while nothing about the Huck I knew suggested he gave a crap about things like labels, I knew the one he was wearing was quality.

"Grandmother, Grandfather. This is Huck. Huck, this is Colette and Johnathan Tillman."

"Huck," my grandmother repeated, rolling his name round, chewing it like she was trying to decide if it was the kind of quirky that came with money or not. "Have you been seeing our Harmon long?"

"A couple weeks," he said, not seeming the least bit tense even though the air around us was thick enough to start slicing with a knife.

"And what is it that you do, Huck?" she asked.

Once upon a time, I found the way my grandmother repeated names as elegant. Now, it just pissed me off. It almost always sounded condescending to my more mature ears.

"I'm in imports," he said, the words sliding off his tongue with all the airs of someone who belonged in this sort of place with these sorts of people. I didn't know if I wanted to laugh, or be in awe of his ability to tell a half-truth without a hint of the lie beneath.

"Oh, wonderful," my grandmother said, torn. Because she was buying his lie, and she wanted to be impressed with him. But that would mean, by extension, she would need to feel a bit of pride toward me as well. "And Harmon, are you still doing your little vid—" she started, only to have a smooth as hell Huck interrupt her.

"Excuse me, Colette," he said, pressing a hand into my lower back. "I see an old friend of mine," he went on.

"Oh, of course. Of course. It was lovely meeting you. I hope to get some more time to talk with you later."

"That was slick," I hissed into his ear as he led me away, unable to stop the smile pulling at my lips. "How do you lie that well? Is it a criminal thing?" I asked, feeling a little giddy, never having gotten through a conversation—however casual—with my grandmother without feeling flayed open.

"Close. I actually wasn't lying," he told me, giving me a warm smile before nodding his head toward a corner where I finally saw what he was looking at. Who he was looking at.

The man I'd seen first when I'd brought Remy's dog back that first night.

The little person with the harem of women. And that absurd hat.

Teddy.

"What is he doing here?" I asked as we made our slow approach.

"Didn't anyone tell you? Teddy is fucking loaded. Theodore Kane, the Third. Old money too."

"Old old money," I said, shaking my head. "How do you know him? Did he just show up at a party or something once?"

"Not exactly. I jacked his car. With him passed out in the backseat. Fucking bombed. Soon as we saw him, we got out of there. But he sobered up, tracked us down, and blackmailed us into letting him into our world. He used to give us tips on cars to chop back when that was our thing. Probably cars of people he hated, now that I think of it."

"You have led a very interesting life," I declared just as we were making our way in front of Teddy.

"Oh, get the fuck out of here," Teddy said, smiling at us as we approached. "What? Did Remy's dog make it all the way to Miami?" he asked, surprising me that he remembered who I was. But, then again, I guess I had made a spectacle of myself with the whole seizure and nearly drowning thing, bringing the party to a screeching halt.

"Not exactly. This is my grandmother's house. My step-grandmother."

"Oh," he started, smile falling. "I'm so sorry to hear that," he told me, making a snorting laugh bubble up and burst out.

"Thank you!" I said, throwing a hand up. "I have been trying to explain to him that they are, well..."

"The coldest assholes south of Connecticut?" Teddy supplied.

"Yes, exactly. Why are you here if you hate them so much?"

"You have to rub elbows with all sorts of undesirables if you want to keep your business running. So, if you are the granddaughter, then your brother is..."

"The family disappointment?" Jones asked, coming in out

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