crews moved in. But she’d never been brazen enough to bring one of her men into our house or to seat him at the table in Dad’s chair.
I don’t like this.
“Eli, this is Nero Lucian. He works in the entertainment industry. Nero, this is my son, Elias. He’s seventeen and he attends Stonehurst Prep, where he’s the student council president, captain of the track team and the debate team, as well as a top student.”
I don’t like my life being reduced to a list of achievements to impress this guy who… who the fuck even is he? Nero holds out his hand to me. The expensive fabric of his pinstripe suit tugs across broad, muscled shoulders. His neck is all muscle, and when he squeezes my hand, he crushes my fingers in an iron grip. There’s a hint of malice in his friendly eyes, and his smile is all teeth and gums.
Entertainment my ass. You didn’t get a body like that yelling at actors.
Nero withdraws his hand, but the smile never leaves his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Elias. Your mother’s told me all about you.”
Why has she told this guy about me? And why does he give me the fucking creeps?
“She’s told me absolutely nothing about you.” I meant it to come across as a joke, but I’m no Gabriel, and it sounds accusatory. My mother glares at me, but Nero laughs deep in his belly, his whole body vibrating, sloshing alcohol over the side of his glass. I’m surprised the whole room doesn’t shake like an earthquake.
“There’s nothing much to tell, my boy.” He slaps me so hard on the shoulder that I spill half my drink on the carpet. “I spend my days overseeing my casinos and clubs, and my nights sitting alone in my house drinking my way through my father’s Scotch collection.”
Nero and Mom fall into an easy conversation about Nero’s clubs – apparently, Mom’s visited them all – and the private lives of his celebrity patrons. I stare at my drink in stony silence. Nero must notice because he switches his attention to me and bombards me with questions about current affairs, city zonings, my favorite films and TV shows, and what I got up to over the summer. I don’t think in my entire time growing up my parents ever asked me so much about myself. I can’t wait for this evening to be over.
Maria appears in the doorway. “Dinner is served, ma’am.”
Mom leads Nero by the arm into the dining room. We sit down at the table. I move to take the seat at the head of the table, but Nero’s too fast. He sits down where my father used to sit. Mom sits beside him. The third place is set on Nero’s other side, facing Mom. I deliberately take a seat a few chairs down, sliding the cutlery across the table. Mom flashes her eyes at me, but I pretend not to notice.
“How are your college applications coming along, Eli?” she asks, cutting her beans into demure pieces and popping one in her mouth. My mom believes men don’t like to watch women eat. I think of Mackenzie piling her plate high with food in the school cafeteria and feel a stab of pain.
Not Mackenzie. Claudia.
“Fine,” I say. No thanks to you. I spent the summer working on my application essays and researching programs. I should have started on my letters of recommendation, but I haven’t even chosen a program yet. I don’t know what I want to do or where I want to go, except that it will be far away from Emerald Beach and Dad’s reputation. The idea that this one decision can define the next four-to-eight years of my life weighs on me. I would love to have someone to talk to about it, the way Noah does with Grace, but Mom doesn’t care and Dad’s of the belief that college is a waste of time. “I never went to no fancy school, and I built a multi-million dollar business with my bare hands,” he was fond of saying, as if he were a man of the earth.
And look at you now, I think but don’t say.
“So, you’re heading to college next year?” Nero says. “A bright boy like you, I’m not surprised. What will you be studying?”
“Veterinary science,” I reply. I say it to piss Mom off. Her eyebrows shoot up. She’s always assumed I’d go into the family business – taking the shreds of