Family Business

by Vanessa Acton

  She pulled up the photo of Jasper and his family again. They looked so stiff and formal—nothing like the way Mel and her mom posed for photos, making goofy faces or barely holding back snorts of laughter. These people were smiling with their mouths closed, their eyes staring blankly straight ahead. To Mel, they didn’t look like a real family. She couldn’t picture her mom posed in the same awkward way.

  Looking back at the email, Mel realized why she felt so oddly disappointed. She’d been hoping that he would be overjoyed to find out about her and gutted with regret over the time they’d lost. Instead she’d gotten polite acceptance and an offer to set up a video chat.

  But it was better than nothing.

  ***

  The image on Mel’s laptop screen was fuzzy and kept freezing up, but the sound quality wasn’t too bad. “Hello, Melissa,” said Jasper Valmont. He had a light accent that sounded like a cross between British and French. “I’m . . . glad we were able to make this happen.” He sounded as if he were trying to remember a script he’d memorized. And he didn’t seem to be smiling, but it was hard to be sure when the video was so sketchy.

  “Me too,” said Mel. She smiled extra wide so it would be obvious. “And you can call me Mel—everyone else does. And I guess I should call you . . .”

  “Just Jasper is fine. No need for formalities.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She guessed she should be glad he wasn’t insisting on Sir Jasper. “So it’s, like, early evening over there, right?”

  “Yes, just about time for supper. And it’s late morning where you are?”

  “Yep, just about time for . . . a random snack, probably.” Great, we’re talking about time zones and meals. Not exactly an inspiring start to this conversation.

  “And what are you up to today?”

  “Not much—I’m hanging out with some friends later. I’m on summer vacation until the beginning of September.” Why does everything I’m saying sound so boring? Why does my LIFE sound so boring? I’m interesting, Jasper, I promise!

  “Well, speaking of that—I was wondering. Would you be interested in visiting me in Evonia for a couple of weeks later this summer? I could cover the cost of your plane ticket, and that would give us a chance to get to know each other.”

  Mel’s plastered-on grin suddenly became genuine. “Really? Your family would be okay with that?”

  “Ro and the girls would love to meet you.”

  Ugh, Ro and the girls. Mel hoped this wasn’t going to turn into some sort of fairy tale situation, with a wicked stepmother and stepsisters trying to make her life miserable. Technically, Jocelyn and Jessica were her half sisters, but that didn’t guarantee they’d be likeable.

  Still, she couldn’t pass up a chance to spend time with her father.

  “In that case,” she said, “I’m in.”

  3

  “I wish you’d checked with me first before you agreed to something like that,” Mel’s mom said to her.

  “Yeah, well, I wish you’d checked with me before you decided to keep my father’s identity a secret for seventeen years,” Mel snapped back before she could stop herself.

  Mel’s mom was quiet for a moment. Mel could tell she was biting the insides of her mouth to keep from blurting out a retort. Finally her mom said, “It’s just that you’ll need a passport, and it can take a couple months for an application to get processed . . .”

  “Oh, so that’s what’s bothering you? The logistics of me traveling to Europe?” Mel knew she was just going to make this situation worse, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Not, you know, the fact that my dad actually does want to get to know me? Not the fact that you were wrong about him all this time?”

  Her mom crossed her arms and leveled Mel with a surprisingly intimidating stare. Suddenly she didn’t look like easygoing Becca Novak anymore. She looked truly angry. “You know, I didn’t give you a hard time for snooping through my stuff without my permission. And I helped you get in contact with Jasper when you said that was what you wanted. And I’m not saying you can’t go to Europe. If I’m supposed to be the terrible mother who kept you away from your magical, perfect, royal father all these years, I have an interesting way of going about it, don’t you think?”

  Mel’s eyes stung. She looked away. “I don’t think you’re a terrible mother. But I do think I’m allowed to be upset that I never had a chance to meet him until now.”

  Her mom sighed. “You’re allowed to feel however you feel, Mel. And I’m glad that Jasper wants to be part of your life—I really am. But back when we broke up, I made the choice that I thought would be best for everyone, and I can’t undo that choice now. I’m not asking you to agree with me, I’m just asking you to respect that I was doing my best. I’ve always wanted what’s best for you.”

  “I know that, Mom. I do.” Mel took a deep breath. “But now it’s time for me to decide what’s best for me. And that’s going to Evonia and visiting my dad.” After a short pause, she added, “So how do I apply for a passport?”

  ***

  Two months later, Mel stepped out of a car in Alaborn, Evonia’s capital city, and stared at the elegant three-story brick house in front of her: 33 Darnley Place. Jasper Valmont’s home. She pulled out her phone, noticing that her hands were shaking. First she shot off a message to her mom: Just got here. Then she messaged Savannah and Elise, even though Evonia was eight time zones away from home and her friends were probably still asleep: Made it—standing in front of the house. Suddenly terrified.

  The driver of the car got her duffel bag out of the trunk and brought it over to her. He said, “You can go right in, Miss Novak,” which was what he’d been calling her ever since he picked her up from the airport. Apparently he was Jasper’s personal driver. His name was LaRue—he wouldn’t tell her his first name. Or anything else. She’d tried making conversation during the drive into Evonia. But he had just turned the radio to some sort of weird Euro-pop station and responded to her questions with either “I wouldn’t know about that, Miss Novak” or “I’m sure your father will have more to say about that, Miss Novak.”

  Now she was here. And LaRue was telling her to go in. “Thanks,” she said to him, shouldering her duffel bag with one hand and still clutching her phone with the other. She took a deep breath and walked up the front steps. Then, just as she was wondering whether to put her phone in her pocket or set down her bag so that she’d have one hand free to ring the bell, the door swung open.

  A pudgy man dressed in a crisp black suit stood in the doorway. This was not her dad. This was—the butler? “Good afternoon, Miss Novak,” he said. “Welcome to Darnley Place. I’ll inform the family that you’ve arrived.”

  “Um, thank you,” she said as he stepped aside and ushered her into the entryway. “Sorry, I don’t know your name . . . ?”

  “Baines, miss. I’m Sir Jasper’s butler.” Ha! I was right. One point for me. “Wait here for just one moment.”

  He knocked on a door that led off from the entryway, and Jasper Valmont’s voice called “Come in!” Baines cracked the door open and announced, “Miss Melissa Novak, sir.”

  A woman’s voice said, “Oh good! Thank you, Baines. Send her in.”

  Baines opened the door all the way and made a sweeping gesture with his arm that Mel interpreted as “Go ahead.” She hastily put her phone away, adjusted her grip on her duffel bag, and walked into the room.

  Mel’s eyes went into sensory overload, trying to take in everything at once. The room had a grand brick fireplace, towering bookcases, and thick curtains and rugs. Jasper was sitting in an armchair with an open book in his lap, his wife was getting up from the sofa, and her two half sisters were kneeling on the floor with a complicated-looking board game spread out between them. Everyone and everything seemed to be staring at her.

  “Hello, Melissa!” said the woman brightly, coming toward her. “It’s lovely to have you here. I’m Ro.” Mel braced herself for an uncomfortable hug or a sickly-sweet kiss on the cheek. But
instead Ro simply held out her hand for Mel to shake.

  “Hi, Ro. You can actually call me Mel,” Mel said as she shook her stepmother’s hand. Ro had a firm grip, but not a crushing one. And her smile seemed sincere. “It’s nice to be here.”

  She looked past Ro to Jasper, who had finally set his book down and gotten up from his chair. “Yes,” he said, nodding at her. Not smiling, not holding out his arms for a hug or even a handshake, just standing there and nodding. “Yes, very glad to have you. How was the flight?”

  Mel shrugged, then realized that she was still holding her duffel bag and that her arm and shoulder were starting to ache. She gently set the bag on the floor. “I slept through most of it, so if there were any problems, I missed them.” This didn’t get much of a reaction from Jasper. He just kept nodding, though Ro gave a gentle, polite chuckle.

  “That’s the best anyone can hope for on such a long flight,” Ro said. “Girls, come over here and meet your sister.”

  The two girls got up off the floor and came over to stand next to Ro. They were both wearing skirts and light sweaters that didn’t quite match but had clearly come from the same high-end store. Mel imagined it was called Awkward Tween Fashions. “This is Joss,” Ro said, putting her hand on the shoulder of the taller girl, “and this is Jess.” The younger girl stuck out her hand just like her mother had. Mel shook it.

  “Hi,” said Mel.

  “Very pleased to meet you,” said both J-kids in creepy unison.

  “Your ponytail is crooked,” added the older J-kid matter-of-factly.

  Wow, great start. “Yeah, like I said, I slept for most of my flight. I haven’t had time to dress for the occasion. Not exactly ready for a formal ball or anything. I hope that’s not the first thing on the agenda?”

  Once again, only Ro reacted to Mel’s attempt at a joke. With another polite laugh, she said, “No, the first thing on the agenda was to let you get settled in. Are you hungry? Airplane food can be so hit or miss.”

  “I’m starving, actually,” Mel admitted.

  “That’s because of the jetlag,” said the older J-kid—Joss. The older one has the “o” in her name, Mel reminded herself. “O” for older. “O” for knOw-it-all.

  “Actually I’m always starving,” Mel said, keeping her tone light and her face smiley even though she would’ve liked to shoot the girl a glare.

  “I’ve heard that Americans tend to be hungry all the time,” said Joss without missing a beat.

  “Oh yeah,” Mel said. “We’ll eat anything. Jumbo burgers, entire racks of prime rib, little girls . . .”

  This time even Ro didn’t try to laugh. The Js looked at Mel thoughtfully. Then Jess said, “Lucky there are no little girls here,” and Jasper cleared his throat loudly.

  “Shall we go to Bellamy’s for afternoon tea then?” he suggested. Both Js instantly nodded.

  “Who’s Bellamy?” Mel asked.

  Joss shot her another know-it-all look. “It’s one of the oldest and best restaurants in Alaborn.”

  “Oh, right. Sounds great.” Get me out of here, she thought. Or at least get me away from these judgmental kids so I can spend some quality time with the person who actually matters.

  But Ro was already saying that she’d have LaRue bring the car back around and they’d all meet in the front hall in fifteen minutes. She turned to Mel and told her that she’d show Mel her room in the meantime. So about ten seconds later, Mel was walking up an impossibly wide staircase with Ro. And she still hadn’t had a chance to say more than a handful of words to her father.

  “I gave you the spare bedroom with the street view,” said Ro as they reached the top of the staircase. “But you’re welcome to switch to another room if you’d like.”

  Ro headed about halfway down the hallway, opened a door, and ushered Mel into her room. Its color scheme was heavy on pastels, and its furniture looked like something out of a black-and-white movie. But it was huge and full of natural light. “There are some clothes in here that ought to fit you,” Ro added, opening the closet. “I estimated your size based on the photos you sent Jasper. Bellamy’s is a fairly formal restaurant, so I’d suggest wearing one of these to tea.”

  She plucked two outfits out of the closet and laid them on the bed. Both were businesslike suit-jacket and skirt combos. Plain design, expensive-looking fabric. This wasn’t exactly evil stepmother treatment, but Mel still wasn’t wildly enthused about the idea of Ro managing her wardrobe.

  “Um, thanks,” she said uneasily. “Will I get kicked out if I wear jeans?”

  Ro laughed. She seemed to laugh a lot. “Nobody will kick you out if you’re with us, but you might get some stares. Though, to be honest, you’ll probably get the stares anyway. Most of the usuals at Bellamy’s know our family and will be wondering about you.”

  “Oh,” said Mel. “Great. Then I guess the jeans won’t make a difference one way or the other, huh?”

  “Well,” Ro said carefully. “How you dress will influence the impression you make.”

  Mel glanced at herself in one of the room’s roughly seven million mirrors. She looked a little more rumpled and tired than she normally did, but otherwise she looked like herself. An ordinary American teenager, not a member of a wealthy and ancient royal family. She imagined a bunch of snobby strangers looking at her, judging her, deciding that it had made perfect sense for Jasper Valmont to dump her mother. “Ah. Sure. Message received.”

  Ro’s smile sprang back into action. “Wonderful. See you downstairs in a few minutes. If you need anything, just give a shout.”

  Mel thought briefly about all the things she needed. Time alone with her father. A chance to get her bearings in this strange house and this strange country. A breakfast burrito. “Thanks,” she said to Ro. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  ***

  LaRue drove them all to the restaurant. It was only a five-minute drive, but it felt longer than the transatlantic flight. Ro did her best to get a conversation started, but Mel had trouble paying attention. She kept looking over at Jasper, waiting for him to say something. But he kept not saying something. Finally Mel resorted to pulling her phone out of the weird little handbag that came with her fancy outfit. She messaged her friends: Either Evonian fashion is a little wonky or everyone in this family dresses as if today’s their day in court.

  At Bellamy’s, a host instantly seated them. Their table was draped in a spotless white cloth and covered with a dizzying variety of silverware. A crystal chandelier hung overhead, and formally dressed waiters walked by carrying the kinds of dishes Mel had only seen on TV.

  An awkward silence fell over the table while they all looked at their menus. Mel didn’t recognize any of the dishes. Possibly because she didn’t speak any French. When the waiter showed up, the Js both ordered their food in perfect French accents. When it was her turn, Mel said quickly, “The same for me,” and hoped Jess hadn’t ordered something completely inedible.

  While they waited for their food to arrive, Mel glanced around, trying to figure out if anyone was staring at her. A lot of people were. Good thing I’m not in jeans or somebody might’ve fainted.

  Ro said, “So, in terms of the week’s schedule, Jasper has a board meeting this afternoon, I’ve got a couple of conference calls, and the girls have their piano lesson. But we’ll all be free for supper, and then the rest of the week should be fairly relaxed until the party on Saturday.”

  “The party?” Mel asked.

  Ro darted a concerned look at Jasper. “You did tell her about the party, Jasper, didn’t you?”

  “Erm—it—may have slipped my mind.” Jasper gave his wife an apologetic look that he then turned to Mel. “My mother, Lady Cecily, is having a birthday party at my parents’ estate. We’re all going.”

  “Oh,” said Mel. “Do your parents . . . want to meet me?” After all, these were the people who’d ruined his relationship with Mel’s mom.

  Jess chimed in. “No, but the whole family’s invited, and Mum
and Dad say you count as part of the family so you’re going too.”

  Ro grimaced. “Jess,” she said under her breath.

  Mel looked over at her half sister. “Thank you for clearing that up.” She had to admire the girl’s bluntness, if nothing else.

  Jess took a piece of candy out of her skirt pocket, unwrapped it, and popped into her mouth. Jasper sighed. “Jess, what did I tell you about eating those during mealtimes?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Jess, giving her father a wide-eyed innocent look. “I just remember you telling me to eat one if I thought I was about to say something rude.”

  At last, Jasper made an attempt to change the subject. Looking at Mel, he said, “I’ll be attending an auction at Swithby’s tomorrow morning.”

  “Sorry, Swith-who’s?” said Mel.

  “Swithby’s is a fine art broker.”

  “Oh, okay. A what?”

  “They sell valuable things,” Jess jumped in, “like art and jewelry and antique clocks.”

  “Ah,” said Mel. “Well, that’s great.”

  “I was wondering if you’d like to come along,” said Jasper. “The girls have their horseback riding lesson on Wednesday mornings, and Ro’s meeting with some contractors about renovations to our house. So it would just be the two of us.”

  Mel tried not to show too much of a reaction to that last sentence. But on the inside, she was doing a victory dance. This would be a chance to hang out with her father one on one, without Family 2.0 hovering around them. “I think I can fit that into my schedule,” she said brightly.

  “Excellent,” said Jasper, looking pleased. For the first time he seemed like the same person who’d answered her email with such a welcoming tone. “I’ll be shopping around for some new paintings to add to the entryway after the renovations are done. I thought maybe you’d like to bid on something for yourself? So that you wouldn’t be too bored.”