Page 36
Story: The Heiress's First Date
I don’t think there’s any hiding it anymore.
We make room for him, and I feel his sisters’ attention ping-ponging between the two of us, noting how close he sits.
“We were just asking Katherine who she was going to bring to swing dancing class.”
Kingston grins, easy confidence dripping from every pore. “Me, of course. I saw Alex and Gabe’s moves last night and?—”
My eyes go big, realizing what he’s about to say. What he’s implying.
“Their moves?” Ava parrots.
“We all know I’m the athletic one,” King amends. “Where’s the class?”
Good save.
“Who cares? I want to hear about the auction,” Mel says.
“No,” I groan the word.
“Such a bummer your flight was delayed, K,” Ava says to her brother.
“Yeah, let’s not remind me of that.”
Soph watches and listens. Mel and Ava might be the instigators, but I’d bet every dollar in my bank account that Sophia Saint is putting two and two together right now and getting four.
They chatter for a few more minutes, discussing Memorial Day plans and all the weddings Mel will be in this summer. I’m just glad to not be the center of attention.
Because even though I knew they’d want to discuss the auction, and even tease me about Kingston, I don’t have the first clue what to tell them. Are we hiding what’s between us? Surely, we have to. But from everyone?
We need to figure that out because right now, this doesn’t feel like my secret to tell.
“I should go,” King murmurs.
“You don’t have to,” Mel says.
“I’ve got some shopping to do.”
“Shocker.”
“See you when you get home from work,” he directs at me, and my jaw falls.
I was headed back to my apartment after this and figured I’d tell him then about the latest developments with my mom.
“What?” He glances at each of his sisters and then back to me.
The knots in my stomach tighten. He’s gonna be pissed. Rightly so. I’m not exactly numb to the bullshit; I’ve just lived with it for so long that it’s like I expect the subterfuge. My mother’s tricks. My grandfather’s whims.
Those soft green eyes implore me to tell him the truth. He’s sweetly curious but steadfast.
“My mom told me to take a vacation.”
His brows lift. “Because of our picture?”
I nod, then roll my eyes. “She met with the board. They think I’m bringing bad press to the company.”
“None of this is your fault.”
His reassurance is like a warm blanket. Cozy. Perfect.
We make room for him, and I feel his sisters’ attention ping-ponging between the two of us, noting how close he sits.
“We were just asking Katherine who she was going to bring to swing dancing class.”
Kingston grins, easy confidence dripping from every pore. “Me, of course. I saw Alex and Gabe’s moves last night and?—”
My eyes go big, realizing what he’s about to say. What he’s implying.
“Their moves?” Ava parrots.
“We all know I’m the athletic one,” King amends. “Where’s the class?”
Good save.
“Who cares? I want to hear about the auction,” Mel says.
“No,” I groan the word.
“Such a bummer your flight was delayed, K,” Ava says to her brother.
“Yeah, let’s not remind me of that.”
Soph watches and listens. Mel and Ava might be the instigators, but I’d bet every dollar in my bank account that Sophia Saint is putting two and two together right now and getting four.
They chatter for a few more minutes, discussing Memorial Day plans and all the weddings Mel will be in this summer. I’m just glad to not be the center of attention.
Because even though I knew they’d want to discuss the auction, and even tease me about Kingston, I don’t have the first clue what to tell them. Are we hiding what’s between us? Surely, we have to. But from everyone?
We need to figure that out because right now, this doesn’t feel like my secret to tell.
“I should go,” King murmurs.
“You don’t have to,” Mel says.
“I’ve got some shopping to do.”
“Shocker.”
“See you when you get home from work,” he directs at me, and my jaw falls.
I was headed back to my apartment after this and figured I’d tell him then about the latest developments with my mom.
“What?” He glances at each of his sisters and then back to me.
The knots in my stomach tighten. He’s gonna be pissed. Rightly so. I’m not exactly numb to the bullshit; I’ve just lived with it for so long that it’s like I expect the subterfuge. My mother’s tricks. My grandfather’s whims.
Those soft green eyes implore me to tell him the truth. He’s sweetly curious but steadfast.
“My mom told me to take a vacation.”
His brows lift. “Because of our picture?”
I nod, then roll my eyes. “She met with the board. They think I’m bringing bad press to the company.”
“None of this is your fault.”
His reassurance is like a warm blanket. Cozy. Perfect.
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