Hold Me Like a Breath

by Tiffany Schmidt

  It was too late, though. That word hit his brother the same way Mother’s outburst had struck me. Garrett’s cheeks burned as brightly as mine when he gestured for me to precede him out of the room.

  I didn’t run until we were out of sight. Garrett was right behind me. I wanted our footsteps to clatter in the hallways, to show our anger and frustration in resounding echoes. But the original polished marble floors had been ripped out in the same remodel that rounded the estate’s corners and softened the edges. The cork that replaced it absorbed most of the noise. How had I possibly thought Father would trust me with news about the Business when he didn’t even trust me to walk without breaking myself?

  In the solarium I carefully sat on a cushioned chair. Just once I’d like to throw myself down and weep with abandon—without worry that post-weeping, I’d spend a week in the clinic.

  Garrett turned the lock before coming over to me. He crouched in the wood chips beside my chair, placing his hands on either side of my legs with just a whisper of space between his fingers and the bare skin below the hem of my dress.

  I hiccupped. “Nolan’s not even a Landlow. If I can’t run it—and why can’t I? Then it should go to you.”

  Garrett looked down; the tips of his ears were red. “I’d kinda thought—well, hoped really—that someday it would be ours—all three of us. Carter and I always joked you and I would end up together. Only neither of us was really joking.”

  I blushed and looked down too. Watched his pointer finger move closer until he was touching my leg, tracing small, soft circles across the front of my thigh. The touch made my head spin, sensation battling all my contradictory thoughts. Though Carter had given me plenty of grief about my infatuation, he’d never kept us apart.

  “But he was so mad when he saw us that night … And you said you were sorry about it.”

  Garrett flinched. “I wasn’t sorry about us, I was sorry about the scene he caused.” He brushed a fingertip below my chin, telling me to look at him without actually exerting any pressure. “I don’t think he was really mad, just shocked.”

  “He did say it wasn’t a big deal,” I was thinking aloud, replaying the Garrett-parts of my last conversation with Carter. “In fact, his last words to me were ‘Serves him right,’ when I joked about breaking your heart.”

  I was seeing through tears; Garrett was swallowing and blinking. “I only backed off because you needed space. And now everything’s gone wrong. Nolan? I can’t believe … Nolan?” He groaned. “My dad’s going to be so pissed. And blame me. I know it.” His jaw tightened slightly, his finger pressing down on my leg for the barest fraction of a second before it resumed caressing. “Jacob’s right, I’m a glorified babysitter. They’re never going to take me seriously. They’ll never stop blaming me. Carter’s never coming back …”

  His voice was thick. His eyes dark and far away, looking up through the glass ceiling as if there were an answer to be found in the night sky.

  I reached out a trembling hand and touched his face, turned it back toward me. “Sometimes I really wish I could run away. Live in a shiny New York City apartment with a smiling doorman and forget all about life on the estate.”

  Garrett placed his hand on top of mine, cupping my palm against his cheek, nuzzling into it in a way that made my pulse skip and my skin flush. “Sounds good. Is there room in this fantasy for me to come too?”

  “Yes.” I was breathless. Could he feel my hand go clammy against his face? This wasn’t romance, it was grief and guilt and rage, but my head and heart and body were reacting like this was the stuff of fairy tales.

  “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

  I swallowed. And swallowed the urge to correct his can to may. Then cursed the voice of Nolan for running through my head at a time like this. Cursed everything about Nolan.

  “I’ll be gentle. You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

  I nodded, tugging down the hem of my dress to cover the fingerprint bruise he’d left on my thigh when he was talking about Al. But that was an accident, it shouldn’t have left a mark—which meant I needed to see Dr. Castillo.

  His hands left the chair’s cushion and settled on my neck, working their way up into my hair and tilting my head toward his—

  There was a rattling of the door handle. A banging on the door.

  “Penelope Maeve Landlow, open the door this instant or I’ll have it broken down.”

  We were across the solarium, obscured by a fountain. Father couldn’t have seen us. We both exhaled, mine a sigh, his a grim chuckle as he walked to the door.

  As soon as the lock was flipped, Father stormed into the room.

  His rage was impressive, but so was mine. I stood up, putting my hands on my hips and straightening to make use of every one of my five feet three inches.

  “Father, I can’t believe you.”

  “Me? Don’t start. Don’t you even start. You embarrassed me in there. And you ruined what should have been a triumphant moment for Nolan.”

  “Good,” I spat. “Why Nolan? Why not Garrett? Why not me?” My stupid voice quavered on the last word, and Father’s face softened. “You said I was essential to the Family.”

  “You are essential to our family—because your mother and I love you.” He sat down on a cushion and patted the seat next to him. “Come sit, Penny.”

  “I wanted you to fire him, not promote him. And you said you were going to teach me how to run the Business.”

  “No, I said I wanted to teach you. As Nolan learns my role, I’ll be able to turn some responsibilities over to him and have more time for you. I was thinking classic literature—our own father-daughter book club.”

  I shook my head. “Is this because I’m a girl?”

  “Do not—do not imply that I am sexist.”

  “Have you heard the Wards talk about women? Or some of the other Family members?”

  “Don’t mistake their opinions for mine. I have no problem with the idea of a female heading up a Family, but you are no Magnolia Vickers.”

  “I’m not claiming I’m ready now, but you could train me. Why not name Miles for now and then train me?”

  “Miles is older than I am. He’s looking to retire soon.”

  “But he’d only be a placeholder until I’m ready. It’s hardly like you’re retiring anytime soon.”

  “Oh, Penelope.” He dropped his chin; sadness crept in to add lines on his face. “Who knows how long I have? The Family needs to know whom I’ve chosen as a successor. They need to know I have someone ready to take my place. Otherwise it leads to infighting, bloodshed. Nolan’s got a vision for the future of the Business, and I think it’s a valid one.”

  “The Organ Act?”

  Father didn’t answer. He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “I want you to have a life, sweet pea. Leading the Family is no way for you to spend it.”

  “Shouldn’t that be my choice? How I spend my life—and who I spend it with?” I looked for Garrett. He’d moved to stand by the windowed wall, giving us some space and the illusion of privacy, though I knew he could hear every word. “Maybe I couldn’t lead alone. But I could with help.”

  “You wanted me to co-name you with Nolan?” Father laughed. “Just yesterday you were begging to get away from him.”

  “Not Nolan.” I paused and held a hand out in invitation, but Garrett must not have seen it because he didn’t move. “Father, I could marry Garrett. You could name him your successor, and he and I could lead together.”

  “Marry? Garrett!” The word was a summons and did what my hand had not, drew him away from the wall to come stand before my father. “Is there something I need to know about you and my daughter?”

  Garrett shook his head emphatically. “No, sir.” And I choked on the breath I’d been holding.

  “Good. Keep it that way.” The fire went out of Father’s eyes, moving to heat my cheeks with humiliation. “Penny, you’re still such a child—dreaming of marriage and unicorns and rainbows. It’s
not a job you could handle—it’s dangerous. With your delicacy, you’d be a liability.”

  I swallowed past the sting of his words. “I see.”

  “Sweet pea, life is not one of your storybooks. I’ve already lost one child to this Business. After what happened to Carter, how can you expect me to allow you anywhere near it? You’re all I have left.” He looked down, swallowed twice, then looked back up with flint in his eyes. “This discussion is over. I expect you to congratulate Nolan the next time you see him. And when he does succeed me, you will offer him your loyalty and obedience. Understand?”

  My cheeks burned with anger and embarrassment, but I had seen the pain flash through his eyes when he mentioned Carter. “Yes, Father.”

  “Now, about the clinic, I’ve already questioned and dealt with Mick. Can you think of anything he might have left out?”

  I raised my chin and tried not to feel guilty about Mick being punished. “I have a right to know my counts.”

  “Were you aware Penny broke into the clinic on your watch?” Father asked Garrett.

  I had to turn away from the betrayal in his eyes, the shame in his voice when he answered, “No, sir.”

  “I see.” The look on Father’s face made it clear that discussion was far from over. “Bring Penny to her room, then join me and the others in the library and raise a glass to Nolan.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  I stared at Garrett, but his eyes were fixed on my father’s retreating back. I knew the moment Garrett judged him to be out of earshot, because his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.

  “Ballroom etiquette, huh?” he asked in a voice full of false humor. “I should’ve guessed you were up to something. Your taste in movies is normally less torturous. Except for Enchanted—I know, it’s New York and fairy tales, pretty much custom made for you—but the chipmunk …”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “I get it.” He dropped the fake grin. “I’m not happy you left me behind—don’t ever do that again—but I get it.”

  “Why did you—with Father, you implied we aren’t …” I shrugged, muted by hurt and confusion. What should I accuse him of, denying there was anything between us? Was there?

  “The first rule of being a Ward is not to take sides when the Landlows are infighting,” quoted Garrett. When he saw my stormy face, he smiled gently. “It wasn’t the right time. He’s all wound up by Nolan, and he’s still mourning Carter.”

  “But …”

  “He’d reassign me. I’d never see you again without a room full of chaperones. He still might because of the clinic thing.”

  “No! He can’t.” Except we both knew he could.

  “Remember when we were little and playing Go Fish? And you always wanted to show me your whole hand?”

  I nodded.

  “Now’s the time for us to keep our cards tipped up. You know Malcolm Landlow as a father, but I know him as a businessman.” Garrett held out his hand. “Trust me.”

  I slowly placed mine inside and watched his fingers fold gently over, swallowing it up.

  My hand in his—it was my daydreams made reality. Father may control most things, but he didn’t command them all.

  Chapter 15

  Over the next four days Garrett got several scathing lectures about duty and vigilance, I got another infusion, and Nolan started appearing at all our meals. And wherever Nolan was, there was an entourage. The Wards, Miles, Frank, and every other Family member within a hundred-mile radius seemed determined to either suck up to the new successor or make a fool of him in front of Father.

  Except no one had any luck agitating Nolan. This didn’t surprise me; I’d had years and years of trying to irritate the man.

  “I’m afraid that’s incorrect,” Nolan said calmly in response to another one of Al’s jabs at the Organ Act. “Prior to the creation of FOTA, back when tissue transplant was regulated by the FDA, there was no national registry or tracking system whatsoever. There was serological testing done, but nucleic acid testing wasn’t required and there’s a window—”

  “I don’t want a history lecture; I’m not your pupil.” Al’s white linen napkin was crushed between his scarred and scabbed knuckles. “I just want to know how you think you can get in bed with politicians and lead the Family at the same time.”

  “If H.R. 197 were to pass, the two roles wouldn’t be incompatible,” answered Nolan. “And if the industry were legalized, not only would we have a steady supply of prescreened donors but we wouldn’t have to worry about raids or tragic acts of violence.” He gave Mother a cloying look of sympathy, and I put down my fork.

  Whenever his presence threatened to make me gag, I turned and looked at Garrett. His tight smiles made it easier to resist stabbing Nolan with Mother’s silver.

  It was unbelievable that four days ago our Family hadn’t been divided; fourteen days ago Carter hadn’t been dead.

  “How long will you be in DC?” I asked Nolan.

  “My best estimate is two to three weeks, but, like we’ve discussed in your history classes, politics is a game of patience, influence, and strategy. I’ve received word that the House of Representatives will be bringing H.R. 197 to the floor for a vote soon, and I want to be in town when this happens.”

  “It’s out of subcommittees? I didn’t know this.”

  He nodded. “And while we know that there are no guarantees in politics, I’ve been informed that it should have enough support to pass.”

  Which meant it would go to Congress for a vote. Then the president. It wasn’t a sure thing, not even close to one yet, but if it passed in the House, it was a huge step closer to happening. “Wow.”

  Nolan lifted a haughty eyebrow. “Wow, indeed. Once I’ve had preliminary meetings with these lobbyists, I’ll be able to more accurately project the duration of my sojourn.”

  Jacob and Hugh rolled their eyes. They did whenever he spoke, which was just stupid. They’d make themselves dizzy long before Nolan stopped using his word choice to demonstrate that he was the smartest person in the room.

  “Will you see Vice President Forman?” I asked this follow-up question even though the Wards—except Mick, whom I hadn’t seen since the announcement dinner—were shifting their frowns in my direction. “If so, can you pass along my love to him and Kelly?”

  Nolan blinked. Then removed his glasses and wiped them on a napkin. Nothing made him squirm like talk of emotions. “Of course I’ll see him. He’s been an ally of this Family, and he’s one of the strongest supporters of this bill.”

  “So he’s paying back our help by working to destroy us,” grumbled Hugh.

  “Malcolm, you can’t possibly agree with Nolan’s idiotic opinions about legalizing donors, set prices, and regulations,” said Al. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked Father how he felt about the bill—so far he’d refused to state an opinion—but it was the first time someone had asked with such contempt. “Dirty politicians having their hands in the Business and controlling you like a dog on a leash—you want that?”

  Father wiped his mouth and turned to Mother. “You know, Abigail, perhaps it’s time we had fewer guests at meals. I find the company and conversation are ruining my appetite lately.”

  “Just like he’s going to ruin the Family.” Jacob pointed toward Nolan with the tip of his butter knife. Al smiled at his son’s insolence, but everyone else at the table inhaled a collective gasp. Jacob had never been good at judging when he was going too far, but when he opened his mouth to continue, I wanted to slap my hand across it—even if that meant hitting his recently broken nose. “Man, even naming the glass princess would’ve been better.” He nodded in my direction as if this were a compliment. “She wouldn’t have lasted long, but at least she’d be a pretty little puppet before she broke.”

  I glared at him and pushed my temptingly sharp fork farther away.

  Garrett’s lips were white, his eyes thin lines of fury. Mother dropped her spoon and didn’t seem to notice it sp
lashed granola and yogurt onto her blouse. I didn’t get any further in my examination of the diners’ reactions because Father threw his mug across the room—it shattered on the wall behind Jacob’s head.

  “Wards, get out of my sight. I’ll let you know when you no longer sicken me, but until then, you’re not to step foot on the estate.”

  Al gaped and slammed down his fork. Right before he stormed out, he pointed a finger at Garrett. “This is your fault. Remember that.”

  Jacob hesitated for a moment like he might apologize, but then he tightened his jaw and copied Hugh’s hasty retreat. Garrett shifted his weight but remained seated. His gaze followed his family out of the room, so he saw Al’s look of disgust, but not my father’s nod of approval.

  Mother paused for just a second, then turned to Nolan. “What time is the car coming to take you to the airport?”

  The meal ended abruptly after that. Everyone scattered, stumbling over themselves to get out of Father’s sight. Everyone but Garrett and me. We looked at each other down the length of the long, now-empty table, then sighed and wandered into the solarium.

  “Nolan is a disaster. No one’s happy Father picked him. Your dad and mine—I’ve never heard them fight like that.”

  “They’ve both got pride and tempers. Emotions are running high right now—everyone’s frustrated the police haven’t arrested anyone. It’s Jake I’m worried about—he’s not funny, and one of these days …” Muscles along his jaw clenched. “I’m sorry, Penny. I can’t even think of an excuse to give you—he was so out of line.”

  “Don’t apologize for them. But … why did your dad blame you? You didn’t do anything.”

  “According to him, I did everything wrong. I didn’t protect Carter, I didn’t get named successor.”

  “That’s not your fault. I’m so sorry you got caught in the middle.” I put a hand on his arm and squeezed lightly. “When it comes to choosing between family—little f—and the Family, you should always choose little f. But I’m so glad you stayed with me.”