On My Knees - J. Kenner Page 0,57
to your body?”
“I think I’ll just scour the apartment again. The place is a mess from all the packing. It’s probably under a box.”
Since his stuff is being shipped from London—and that process takes weeks—I hope it didn’t accidentally end up inside a box. But I keep my thoughts to myself. No point in being the voice of doom.
“I saw your picture this morning. You and Cass look great. But what’s the deal with Jackson Steele? He’s the guy you dated for a while in Atlanta, right? You guys are back together?”
“We are,” I say, “and I’ll tell you all about it—and introduce you—on Wednesday. You’re still getting in around four, right?”
“Yup. I have to go through customs, so do you just want me to text you when I’m heading outside?”
“That’ll work. And are you sure you don’t want to go with me to Jamie’s Halloween party on Friday? Stark keeps a suite at the Century Plaza and it’s empty right now. You could have it through the weekend.”
“That would be sweet, but I want to get down to Irvine and hang with Mom and Dad.”
“Fair enough, but I was really hoping to spend some time with you.”
“Well, they’re your parents, too. You can hang out down there with us.”
The thought makes me shudder. “In case you forgot, I have work. In another city.” I say all this brightly, as if that is the only reason I don’t want to spend time with my parents.
“Well, it’s not like there won’t be more chances,” he says reasonably. “Considering I’m moving back to California, we’ll see each other a lot.” He’s been living in London, so I can’t argue with that. “And as for the rest, you’re staying for dinner at Mom and Dad’s on Wednesday night, so we’ll have some time then.”
Just the thought of going to my parents’ house makes me edgy. “Listen, there’s been a slight change of plans.”
“Don’t you dare blow me off.”
“Work is insane right now, so I thought I’d send a limo for you. Get you to Irvine in style.”
“You are such a liar. We just agreed that I should text you when I get out of customs.”
“I meant text the limo,” I say, lying again.
“Bullshit. Come on, Syl. Mom says she never sees you. That you came back from Atlanta, landed your high-paying job, and fell off the planet.”
To be fair, I fell off the planet as far as my parents are concerned when I moved into an exclusive Beverly Hills boarding school for my sophomore year of high school. I don’t say that to Ethan, though. Instead, I just say, “Work is crazy right now.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what the big drama is between you and them?”
I frown. “No. Sorry, but no. But there is drama. Isn’t that enough?”
He exhales loudly. “Look, I know how much they sacrificed when I was a kid. And I know some of that lashed back on you.”
I hug myself, feeling suddenly cold. Lashed back? Hell, yeah, it lashed back.
“I just can’t help but feel like this rift between you and them is my fault. And it would make me feel a hell of a lot better if you’d just come, okay?”
I close my eyes, because I know I’m going to cave. Because in so many ways he’s right.
And in so many ways he’s wrong.
But the biggest truth is that I’m not going to tell him the truth. So, yeah. Maybe I do need to suck it up.
“Fine,” I say. “Dinner. But I’m not staying late. I’ve got to work on Thursday, and—”
“Whatever you say, big sis.”
I frown, but it’s affectionate. “I love you even if you are a pain in the butt.”
“Of course you do. See you Wednesday.”
I end the call, then head to the reception desk to ask Karen if anyone called while I was tied up. Since I’m approaching from behind her, I can see her computer—and that she’s scrolling through the pictures of me, Jackson, and Cass. Not to mention Graham Elliott. Yesterday I saw her looking at some of the old ad photos of me that are circulating.
Wow, gee. How great is that?
“Oh. Hey.” She coughs as she clicks her computer back to a word processing screen. “Need anything?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I think I need a coffee.” And since that is absolutely true, I head down to the lobby for caffeine and the chance to clear my head.
My parents. My pictures.
For a day that had started out great, it’s going downhill