by Scott, Kylie
The event is held at a restaurant in a reclaimed big old brick building. A factory, perhaps. It’s all fancy inside with cool modern light fixtures and linen tablecloths. About eighty or so people fill the private room overlooking the river. My presence confuses the maître d’ and the woman he discreetly calls over.
“Miss Lawrence is here in place of Mrs. Elliot,” he says to the lady. She looks to be in her fifties, stylish with red lipstick and curly gray hair.
“Oh,” is all she says.
Awkward. “Perhaps her assistant forgot to inform you,” I say. “Catherine asked me to come in her place. Well, she asked her grandson to ask me. She wasn’t feeling well, apparently. Is that a problem?”
The woman just blinks at me.
“Not that she wasn’t feeling well, but that she sent me in her place, I mean.” Specificity is good, babbling less so. This is not a fortuitous start to my first solo event.
“Of course not,” says another woman. She’s a decade or so older than me with cool orange glasses. “I’m Yumi Manning, head of partnerships. And this is Debra Stein, philanthropy manager.”
“Alice Lawrence.”
We all shake hands and the maître d’ heads back to the front of the restaurant. Call me paranoid, but I’m getting a bad feeling about this. Grandma Catherine doesn’t strike me as the type to hire people who forget to do things. Especially when she went to the effort of requesting my presence here in the first place. What the fuck is going on?
Debra disappears into the crowd the first chance she gets.
A few people stop and stare at me. Perhaps they’ve seen my picture in the social pages with Beck. Whatever the cause, it makes me even more fidgety and self-conscious.
“Let’s get you a drink.” Yumi stops a passing waiter.
“That would be great. White wine,” I say, because alcohol. “Thank you.”
“Hello, Alice.” Penny the lawyer who sat next to me at the gala is smiling. Someone is actually happy to see me. Also, she looks awesome in a green pantsuit. “This is a surprise.”
“I’ll let you two catch up,” says Yumi as she too takes the chance to bolt.
I smile, relieved to know someone. “Hi. Catherine sent me.”
“Did she now?” asks Penny, tone wary.
“Yes. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“I also work with the Elliot Family Foundation.”
“Well, it’s good to see you again.”
Penny licks her lips, looking out over the crowd. “This was one of Jack’s causes. Catherine is more inclined toward giving to the polo club and the children’s boarding schools and colleges. Their fraternities and sororities and so on.”
“Ah.”
“Rumors are rife that she’s planning on cutting the donation to the libraries by at least half.”
“Are the rumors true?” I ask.
“Yes, they are.”
Fuck. “That’s why she didn’t want to come.”
“Got it in one. Yumi and Debra were hoping to wine and dine her into a more giving frame of mind,” says Penny. “Feeling like the sacrificial lamb yet?”
I down a mouthful of wine before replying. “B-a-a-a.”
She laughs.
Oh yeah. This is awesome. I’ll just be over here being awkward if anyone wants me.
Lunch is artisanal cheeses followed by red wine wagyu pot roast with sweet potato mash and a fruit tart for dessert. The food is excellent, however, the conversation sucks. Yumi and Debra are seated on either side of me but they spend the bulk of their time talking to the other people at the table. And I get it. With approximately four hundred and twenty-eight dollars in my account, I’m little help to their funding situation. Yet again I am the person no one wants at the party. Woe is me.
I’m ready to say my goodbyes and make a run for it when coffee is served. Then Yumi stands and taps a teaspoon against her wine glass. Silence descends. “As you all know, Jack Elliot passed away recently. His loss has been keenly felt by all in Denver, but especially those of us in the libraries. When our government funding was cut, it was Jack Elliot who first stepped in to help fill the deficit. His support enabled us to keep the lights on and the doors open. Alice Lawrence is here today to say a few words on behalf of the Elliot Family Foundation.”
Fuck me.
Polite applause.
Yumi sits back down.
Penny’s startled gaze meets mine across the room. Guess she didn’t know about this part either. That makes me feel a little better.
I get to my feet, my hands braced against the table. Something has to keep me upright since my knees have turned to water. Every damn eye in the room is on me. Waiting. Expectant. And this is what Catherine really wanted, I know it down to my bones. Me standing in front of a selection of the city’s finest making a fool of myself. Yeah well. Not today, Satan.
“Thank you, Yumi,” I say, my smile fixed in place. “It’s such a pleasure to be here representing the Elliot Family Foundation. What can I say about Jack Elliot? Good question. Unfortunately, to my great regret, I never actually got to meet him. But I’ve heard many people talk about Jack and it seems that inevitably they all return to this one defining characteristic…his single-mindedness. The man’s drive, focus, and unrivaled dedication to getting the job done. In this way, he is without a doubt an inspiration to many.
“What I’d really like to talk about today, however, is the legacy he leaves behind. Not only through his work, but with his four children who have shown such love and loyalty in supporting each other during this difficult time. I don’t doubt that each of them will go on to do great things. And then there’s what he achieved through a lifetime spent supporting such causes as the libraries.
“It was the gift of story handed down since the dawn of time that helped us to learn and evolve. It was the invention of the printing press that enabled people from all different walks of life to begin understanding and empathizing with one another. And it’s our libraries today and the people who staff them that continue this invaluable work, ensuring everyone has access to the gift of knowledge and the possibility of a brighter future.
“Now, I’ve taken up enough of your time and your coffee is getting cold, which is unforgivable. So let me finish by saying that the Elliot Family Foundation is honored to support this city’s libraries and, in memory of Jack, to continue to meet the donation amount set by him. Thank you.”
Yumi shrieks in surprise. Penny’s mouth hangs open. Debra drops her cake fork. The applause is thunderous. I’ve never been so popular in my life and I probably never will be again. To think that all it cost is an unspecified amount of someone else’s money and any chance of Catherine ever accepting me. Hard not to smile. That’s when the person from the newspaper snaps my picture.
“Let me see if I’ve got this right,” says Beck as he walks in the door, cell attached to his ear. “You sent her to an event with absolutely no information or instructions and she made a speech that she wasn’t aware she’d have to make and—rather than rocking the boat in any way—she committed to nothing more than a continuance of business as usual? That sounds to me like an entirely measured position to adopt.”
Beck flinches, moving the phone away from his ear. Even I can hear Catherine’s reply from over on the couch. The woman is furious.
“You’re right, Grandma, that is quite an amount of money. And how wonderful that it’s going to continue to be given to the city libraries as Dad would have wanted.” He pauses. “Hello? Hello, Grandma? I think she hung up on me.”
“Hmm.”
He crashes onto the couch beside me, slinging an arm around my neck. “Hello, dearest. I’ve just been hearing all about your busy day.”
“On a scale of one to ten, how much trouble am I in?”
“I don’t know. Eleven, maybe?”
I sigh.
“Can’t even imagine what you’re going to get for Christmas. A lump of coal? Some half-rotted brussels sprouts? That’s presuming we’re still even invi
ted.”
“I’m sorry.”
He grins. “No you’re not. I saw that picture of you grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Half of the damn city did.”
“Oops.”
“And, as per our earlier discussion on the phone, nor should you be sorry. She set you up to fail,” he says. “But not only does a goodly portion of Denver now love you, but you’re making her do the right thing by Dad and those people. You won, hands down.”
“You’re definitely not angry?” I ask, just checking.
“Nope. I’m proud of you.” He smacks a kiss on my cheek, giving me a megawatt smile. “Granny was being mean. She deserved to be taught a lesson.”
“I was rather upset with her at the time.”
“You’re nicer than me. I’d have been fucking furious.”
“She’ll give them the money?” I ask.
“She has to. You made sure of it.”
“Wow. Good.”
“I’m just sorry I trusted her and encouraged you to do it,” he says.
“You’re not some all-knowing omnipotent being.”
“A pity, that.” His thumb caresses the side of my neck. “But next time I’ll do more research.”
“Question,” I say. “Have you ever thought about doing any philanthropy?”
“Answer. I’m involved in a few things. Why do you ask?”
I reach up, rubbing my fingers over his knuckles, down the length of his fingers. “There was a woman there today trying to get a literacy program funded. Also a guy who’s involved in clearing school children’s lunch debt.”
“You’d like to help them?”
“I just thought I’d mention them to you,” I say. “I could be wrong, but your grandmother appears to have a throat hold on the Elliot Family Foundation. A lot of her causes seem to largely benefit the people in her social circle.”
“This is true. Not that Dad was any better. He just saw more value in getting the family name on as many public buildings as possible.” He looks at me and there’s lots going on behind his eyes. Lots and lots. It would be so helpful if I could read his mind. “Let me give this some thought, okay?”
“Sure.”
“Penny was impressed with how fast you thought on your feet today,” he says. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
“Don’t let my family scare you away.”
I shake my head. “Not going to happen.”
“Did you like driving the SUV? Because if it’s not—”
“I love it. Thank you. It’s perfect.”
Little lines appear beside his eyes when he smiles and I just get lost staring at him for a moment. At his beautiful mouth and the angle of his jaw. At the colors in his eyes and his dark brows. Then there’s the sound of his voice and the scent of his skin and his strong but gentle hands. Everything about him works for me. I am one lucky bitch.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his gaze warm.
“Sex.”
“Good God, you’re romantic.”
“You should see the size of the backseat in that vehicle. Just the thought of what we could do back there made me wet.”
“I actually bought it because of the safety rating,” he says, coming closer. “But I’m glad it has other important features. Now tell me more about the state of your panties.”
“Are you sure that isn’t against the slow rule?”
“Talk is allowed.”
“In that case, I tricked you. I’m not wearing any.”
His eyes go large and his hands slip beneath the skirt of my dress. Up the length of my thighs slide his palms until a thumb rubs over the silk of my underwear. “Alice, you lied to me. You are too wearing panties.”
“Of course I am. I’ve been out in public. But wasn’t it fun to check?”
His hands stay put as he leans closer, pressing his mouth to mine. I part my lips, giving him entrance, and we’re all tongues and teeth and wanting. It’s delicious. My hands in his hair and my body aching. While under my skirt, his fingers dig into the flesh of my thighs before roaming higher to trace the edges of my underwear. His thumbs slip beneath the edge of lace and elastic, delivering teasing little touches. He’s so close to my mound, but not quite. And the stress of the day doesn’t matter. Not when it’s me and him getting as close as can be with our clothes on. If my panties weren’t wet before, they certainly are now. He does it so easily, turning me on, making me hot for him. My face is flushed and my heart is pounding. He nips my bottom lip before diving straight back in, driving me wild. Beck has kissing down to an art form. The pressure and heat and wetness. It’s all just right.
His lips trace over my cheek before his teeth make their presence known once more against my jawline and then my neck. The sweet sting is a thrilling thing, making my skin more sensitive, my mind more shut down to anything that isn’t us. We’re pressed up against each other, my breasts against his hard chest. All of the air seems to have left the room.
“I think we’re getting closer to the time for actual action,” he says, voice husky.
“God, I hope so.”
“Henry goes back to school tomorrow. We’re going to have the place to ourselves. I’m feeling pretty confident about reaching second base.”
“I’d hope so considering your hands are up my skirt.” I laugh. “But we have drinks with your friends tomorrow night, remember?”
He groans. “Drunken fumbling before bedtime it is.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
He removes his hands from beneath my dress, slipping an arm around my shoulder and drawing me in against his side. “Did you know Dad married Giada when he was on a three-day bender in Monaco? The old man worked hard, but when he decided to take a break…he went all out. Imagine how fast the lawyers had to work to draw up that prenup.”
“But their marriage lasted for well over a decade, right?”
“Yeah, but he cheated on her constantly. They had nothing in common apart from the child they both ignored. Dad thought another divorce would look bad and she liked the lifestyle too much to walk away.”
“Not a match made in heaven.”
“Nope,” he says. “At least he always had a plus-one for parties.”
“Handy.”
“Right?” He stares out at nothing, lost in thought. “I asked Grandma once how she and Grandpa managed it. What the secret was. Because it seemed so extraordinary to me that a couple could actually manage to just stay together.”
“What did she say?”
“She looked down her nose at me and said… he married me for my name, dear. Let’s not write fairy tales where there are none.”
“But do you think they maybe grew to love each other?”
“Fuck knows.”
“And that’s what you’re scared of…us winding up like that.”
He shrugs the shoulder I’m not currently using as a pillow. “Given my family history, I’d be a fool not to, beloved.”
“I’m not Selah. You can trust me.”
He kisses the top of my head. It’s not a confirmation and that kind of breaks my heart. But trust takes time. I’ll just have to suck it up.
“Guess we should plan some dates and do this right.”
“I love that idea.”
Henry comes out of the office, cell in hand. He’s wearing his usual ripped jeans and a T-shirt. And those tears were made by a designer, no doubt. “Grandma’s lighting up my phone. I didn’t even know she could text.”
“She can’t,” says Beck. “She gets her assistant to do it. What does she want?”
“For me to go spend the night at her place and have Winston drive me back to school tomorrow. Since when did Winston drive people around, anyway?”
“Since I stole Smith off of her. Remember how he was trailing you all day?”
Henry smirks. “Right. Bet that chaps Winnie’s ass.”
“Language.”
“What the hell?” Henry’s brows go up. “She
just sent me the eggplant emoji. Does she mean dick or dinner?”
Beck looks to heaven. “Language, dude.”
“Dinner,” says Henry. “They’re having moussaka.”
“That’s a relief,” I whisper.
“Didn’t Greek food used to be your favorite?” asks Beck.
“When I was like twelve.” Henry sits on the couch opposite, staring at me and his brother through narrowed eyes. “What did you two do? Grandma’s making out like you’re a bad influence all of a sudden.”
“Alice made her give some money to a charity she wasn’t planning on giving it to,” answers Beck.
Henry nods all sage-like. “That’d do it.”
“If you’d rather go spend the night with her than hang with us, that’s fine. I’m sure she’d like to see you.”
“Nuh,” says Henry. “I mean…unless you two want me gone.”
“You’re very welcome to stay here.” I smile. “I’m cooking pasta carbonara for dinner.”
Henry cocks his head. “Do you know how to cook?”
“I’ll probably manage not to poison you.”
Before Henry can shoot off some smartass reply, Beck is there. “That sounds lovely, dearest. Doesn’t it, Henry?”
Henry just shrugs.
“Want me to see if I can get Grandma to calm down and ease up on your cell?” asks Beck.
“Are you kidding me? She hates you right now. Besides, I already texted Ethan. He said to message him if I needed anything, so…” Henry keeps scrolling through his screen. “Otherwise Emma can get it sorted. She called today and we talked for a while.”
“That’s nice,” I say. “Good to see you all getting along.”
Henry’s brows descend. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, Alice.”
“Yeah, Alice.” Beck massages the back of my neck. He has such strong talented fingers. “I’m still your favorite sibling though, right, Henry?”
“You all pretty much suck equally as far as I can see. Though Alice gets respect for getting one up on Grandma.”
“I think there’s a life lesson in that,” says Beck. “It’s possible to piss off your family and still do some good in the world. You could really take a page out of her book.”
I shake my head. “Okay. Enough of this. What do you feel like doing tonight?”
