Page 57

LIA

“ A ll right, here’s what we’ve negotiated,” Trevia said the moment I closed the door and slid into the back seat of her car, on the way to my father’s party.

I was wearing a strapless scarlet satin Vivienne Westwood gown, and matching shoes, with a black Alexander McQueen brass-knuckle clutch purse, with ruby crystal skulls on each ring, as befit my heritage perfectly.

I groaned. I didn’t want to hear about negotiations—I wanted freedom.

“I know, I know,” she went on. “But we don’t want there to be any scandals tonight. For your father’s sake. It’s his birthday. Tomorrow all hell may break loose, but we need time to gracefully segue.”

“Out?” I pounced on the word. “Tell me I’m getting out.”

“Segue,” she repeated, with more force. “With grace. Which publicly airing dirty laundry is not, okay?”

“Fine,” I spat.

“Don’t think I don’t appreciate you staying off of the internet though, all right?

And—don’t think I didn’t know what you were doing, waltzing around earlier outdoors in public with your Hepburn sunglasses on, like you didn’t have a care in the world.

I know you know the game, Lia—I’m asking you not to play it tonight. ”

I sighed and checked myself out in the rearview mirror. What did it matter anyhow, after all I’d already been through?

What was just one more night?

“I’m getting out? I want to hear you say it. O. U. T.”

“Out.”

I squinted my eyes at her. “Use it in a sentence involving me.”

“God, you really are your father’s child—fine. You’re getting out.”

“I just didn’t want there to be any room for fancy footwork, later. You’ve essentially sworn to me. Remember that,” I said, giving her a head tilt. “So what do I need to do in the meantime?”

“Just be kind. Marcus may not show up, or he might—we didn’t uninvite him. But he’s aware of this turn of events, contractually.”

“Oh my God,” I said, putting a hand to my chest and rocking back.

My actual freedom… so fucking close at hand.

“We just can’t have your father looking like a fool. Not this close to the IPO—and not tonight of all nights. So if Marcus tries to interact with you—which he might not!—I need you to behave.”

I gave her a look. “When did my Dad assign you to be my surrogate mother?”

“When my paycheck deposited this morning,” she said dryly.

I supposed I should be glad it wasn’t my actual father giving me this talk.

Or…my real one.

Uncle Freddie was going to be there tonight.

But this time I’d be braced to see him.

“Lia?” Trevia pressed.

I gave her an angelic look. It wasn’t Marcus who needed to worry about me, not anymore. “I’ll be good,” I promised, with my fingers crossed.

Her gaze dropped down, and she gave me a prude look. I thought she might’ve caught me being childish, but instead, she said, “And don’t think that I don’t know what you’re doing by choosing that purse.”

Trevia checked in again with me, as the driver let us off. “Ready?”

“Ready,” I agreed, and stepped outside.

Photographers were on us instantly.

The mere fact that I’d arrived without Marcus would make waves.

I smiled for the cameras, ignored their shouted questions, and walked past the step-and-repeat wall, stopping and smiling in front of Corvo Enterprise’s logo, until I was safely behind the velvet ropes that cordoned off party attendees.

Trevia met me in the elevator. “You didn’t want your picture taken?” I asked her.

“I don’t pose for cameras. I pose for settlements,” she said with a laugh, and then we emerged into the lobby.