Page 46 of My Return to the Walter Boys (My Life with the Walter Boys #2)

One

I couldn’t remember the last time my dad graced me with his presence, so when he strode into the kitchen Sunday morning, his ever-present Bluetooth headset clipped to his ear, I nearly choked on my bagel.

“No, the contract is already signed. Has been for weeks now,” he said, talking in sweeping arm gestures. “I’m sorry, King, but it’s my job to do what’s best for Violet, end of story.” Dad was so dialed into his conversation he didn’t notice me sitting in the breakfast nook.

The fact that this was my first Pater Absentem sighting in weeks—even though we lived in the same house—spoke to his status as an expert level workaholic.

We’d made plans to hang out today, but it was still jarring to see him standing in the kitchen as if this were his natural habitat.

I was used to having my sister’s beachfront property all to myself.

“Absolutely not! We’ve been over this a million times and I’m done arguing about it,” Dad exclaimed. “Call my lawyers if you have a problem.” He hit End without so much as a goodbye and jammed a fresh K-Cup into the Keurig.

“What’d the coffee maker ever do to you?”

Dad spun around at the sound of my voice. “Indie, I didn’t see you there.”

“And that makes it okay to manhandle the most important appliance in the kitchen?” I teased.

“Sorry, it’s been a rough morning.”

I brushed a few stray crumbs off my shirt and slid to the end of the bench. “Everything okay?”

“You know how King Williams is.” He rubbed his forehead. “The man’s an overbearing control freak who throws temper tantrums when things don’t go his way. But don’t worry. It’s nothing your old man can’t handle.”

As I carried my dirty plate over to the dishwasher, I tried to imagine the CEO of Mongo Records having a toddler-esque hissy fit, but couldn’t conjure the image.

Then again, I hardly knew the man. The Williams were family friends, but King was too busy expanding his music empire to have time for potluck dinners or camping trips with us.

I was totally okay with that: there was something about his icy demeanor that gave me the creeps.

“Well, good thing you get to spend all day with yours truly.” In one not-so-graceful hop, I planted my butt on the island countertop, heels banging against the lower cabinets. “When are we leaving?”

To celebrate the start of October, our local theater was hosting a Halloween marathon, starting at noon with The Exorcist. I’d inherited my love of scary movies from Dad, so the following fifteen hours of monsters, gore, and jump-out-of-your-skin scares would be the perfect father-daughter bonding time.

All the essentials were piled on the counter next to me: gift cards to buy popcorn and soda, five different boxes of candy I planned to smuggle in inside my purse, a bottle of caffeine pills to keep us awake, and oversized sweatshirts in case the theater was chilly.

My excitement level was so far off the charts, I hadn’t been able to sleep last night.

“Leaving?”

My stomach dropped at the question. “For the horror marathon at Cinépolis, remember?” I forced myself to sound upbeat, but it was never a good sign when I had to remind Dad of our plans.

“Sweetie,” he started, and I knew I wouldn’t like what he said next. Dad only used that particular endearment when he felt guilty. “You know I can’t take the day off. What with Violet’s promotional work for the final season of Immortal Nights and her new career direction, I’m swamped.”

Surprise, surprise.

Dad was picking her over me again.

I should’ve known better. Violet’s priorities always eclipsed everything else.

It hadn’t always been this way, although it was getting harder to remember our lives before my sister was famous.

We used to be a happy family—Mom, Dad, Violet, and me—but then my sister decided she wanted to be an actress.

On my thirteenth birthday, she was cast as vampire princess Lilliana LaCroix in the MTV series adaption of These Immortal Nights, the wildly popular young adult trilogy.

That was five years ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

Pressing my lips tight, I counted to ten. I would not lose my shit. “Dad, you promised.”

“Are you sure?” His eyebrows gathered together as he studied his phone. “I don’t see you on my calendar.”

I gripped the edge of the counter as my entire body tensed.

Ever since he quit his job as a bank director to be Violet’s manager, Dad had become increasingly unavailable, but this was beyond ridiculous.

“My bad,” I snapped. “Didn’t realize I had to schedule an appointment to hang out with you.

Should I email your assistant so he can pencil in my birthday? ”

Welp, so much for not losing my shit.

“Indie, don’t be a brat,” he said, shooting me a disapproving look over the rims of his glasses.

“Hey, just calling it as I see it.” Dad was right, of course. It was a bratty thing for me to say, but I couldn’t help it. This was the third time he’d bailed on me for Violet since the start of the school year.

“ Indigo Josephine Mitchell-Jamiolkowski. ”

Oh crap. The full name. I only heard that pretentious mouthful when I landed myself in dangerous waters. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I pushed back my bangs. “I’m sorry, Dad, but this sucks. I’ve been looking forward to spending time with you.”

The scowl on Dad’s face softened. “I know, Indie. I’m sorry. Violet’s schedule will get less hectic soon and then we can do something together just you and me, I promise.” The Keurig let out a long beep, and he turned to collect his mug as steam rose in lazy tendrils from the freshly brewed coffee.

“Yeah, sure,” I replied, swallowing back my disappointment. There was no point in arguing with him, not when it involved Violet’s career. Work always came first.

Dad beamed. “That’s my girl.” His phone buzzed less than a second later, and he punched the talk button. “Hi, this is Edward Jamiolkowski…. Ah, Courtney! So good to hear from you. I’ve been meaning to call so we could discuss the lineup for…”

I heaved a sigh as Dad swept out of the room.

A small part of me thought he’d change his mind, but when his office door slammed shut, the hope flickering inside me petered out.

For a moment I considered calling Julie, but even watching action movies freaked her out.

There was no way she’d make it through a horror long haul.

I could always text some friends from orchestra, but I doubted anyone would be up for a fifteen-hour commitment on such short notice.

Guess that meant I’d be attending the movies solo.

Whatever, more popcorn for me.

***

Waking up Monday morning after the marathon was brutal.

That being said, Freddy, Jason, and Michael were well worth the lost shuteye, and somehow I made it through the day without falling asleep in class.

By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was pass out, so when I reached my bedroom, I ignored my violin case resting in the corner and collapsed face first onto my mattress.

You should practice right now, the voice inside my head chastised me. Because that was my routine: three hours of violin every day after school. I only had two months left to select and perfect my repertoire before my college application was due.

A knock interrupted my guilt trip. “Indie, you in here?”

“No,” I muttered into my pillow, because I didn’t currently have the mental capacity to deal with my sister. Maybe if I ignored her she’d go away.

No such luck.

When I lifted my head a few seconds later to see if Violet was gone, I found her standing in the doorway.

“You need something?” I asked. Aside from acknowledging one another’s presence around the house, she and I rarely spoke. What could Violet possibly have to say to me?

She took a hesitant step into my room. “Yeah, do you have a minute? There’s something I want to run by you.”

“Nope,” I replied, flopping back down and locking my hands behind my head. “Kinda in the middle of something right now.”

Violet gave my post-school sprawl a once-over before crossing her arms. “Really? You don’t look busy.”

“That’s because I’m not.”

“Oookay—you seem irritated. Did I do something to piss you off?”

Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner.

“Dad was supposed to go to the movies with me yesterday,” I said, glaring up at the ceiling. Something that looked like fluffy gray carpet lined the top of the fan blades, and I tried to remember the last time I’d dusted.

“But… he didn’t?”

That she had the audacity to sound confused pissed me off even more. “Of course not! He was too busy doing stuff for you. ”

Sighing, Violet ran a hand over her ponytail. “Haven’t we gone over this before? I don’t set Dad’s hours.”

“Yeah, whatever.” I turned away and curled onto my side, hugging the duvet against my chest.

“Indie, I’m sorry. I had no clue he canceled on you. I’ll talk to him about it, okay?” she said, but I didn’t bother responding. Why should I when I was never considered a priority in this family?

A tense silence stretched between us. It lasted so long I momentarily thought Violet had walked away, but then the mattress dipped as she sat down beside me. “Aren’t you sick of always being mad at me?” Her question sounded weary, so I flipped over to face her.

“Vi,” I said, not unkindly, “what do you need?”

“Well, about that… I know this isn’t the best time to ask for a favor, but I have a major crisis on my hands. Jenny called last night. Poor thing broke her leg, so she can’t come to New York with me this weekend. Obviously I feel terrible, but her timing is awful.”

I rolled my eyes. Jenny was Violet’s personal assistant. Heaven forbid she went one day without someone to fetch her nonfat, unsweetened café au lait. Always the drama queen, my sister.

“Gabe will be there and he promised his assistant Sadie could help me out,” Violet continued. Gabe was her Immortal Nights co-star, who did a lot of promotional appearances with her. “But I know she’ll be too busy on Saturday to lend a hand.”

My brow inched up in speculation. Despite the absurdity of its direction, I had a feeling where this conversation was heading. “And what does any of this have to do with me?”

“Well, I was hoping you could fill in for Jenny.”

Ha! Over my dead body.

On Thursday, the doors to the East Coast’s largest and most kickass gathering of geeks, fangirls, and pop culture aficionados would open—New York Comic Con.

The cast of Immortal Nights would have a busy schedule packed with autograph signings, press interviews, and of course, a panel.

No doubt my sister would run me ragged if I took Jenny’s place.

“Not going to happen.” If I wanted a good dose of torture, I’d stick my hand down the garbage disposal.

“Just hear me out before you say no.” The alarm in her voice made me pause, and she seized the opportunity to keep talking.

“I only need your help on Saturday. I’ll pay you five hundred bucks for the entire day, and you’ll get to skip school on Thursday and Friday.

You can do whatever you want with your free time—sightsee, check out the convention, maybe take a tour of Juilliard? Please say yes. I’m desperate here.”

I had to give it to Violet, she made an enticing offer. I’d been dreaming of Juilliard since picking up my first violin. Throw in a Get Out of School Free card, cash to spend, and a weekend trip to New York, and any normal teen would jump at the opportunity.

Then again, most kids my age didn’t have a celebrity for a sister. If I did this, I was in good conscience agreeing to participate in the Violet James Show, which meant screaming fans, paparazzi, and watching everyone and their mother kiss my sister’s ass. The thought made me cringe.

“I don’t think so, Violet. I have a test in Calculus on Friday and—”

“That makeup artist you like,” she interrupted. “What’s her name?”

“Melody Nguyen?”

“Yeah, her. She’s on a panel called Behind the Prosthetics. It features a bunch of Hollywood’s top special effects makeup artists. If you help me out on Saturday, I’ll give you a break to go see her panel.”

I pursed my lips. Violet must have saved Melody as a trump card in case I refused her offer. Because we both knew there was no way I’d pass up a chance to meet one of my idols, even if it meant spending time with my sister. The question was, how much did Violet need an assistant?

Studying my nails, I tried to appear as uninterested as possible. “Make it a grand and you’ve got yourself an assistant.”

Violet’s lips curled in a triumphant smile. “Done.”