Page 7 of Queen of Ruin

I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him disbelievingly.

“Okay, mostly,” Alistair acquiesced with a shrug.

I laugh. “Well, in that case, I would never dream of leaving you behind.”

“What did she say when you went to the house?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

“She told me to go fuck myself,” he laughs.

I cough into my fist to keep a laugh from escaping. Fuck. I shake my head thinking about what her expression might have been as she slammed the door in his face.

“Then how did you know I was here?”

“I told you before, we’ve known each other for a long time, Dare. As much as you may think you’re nothing like your father, he loved this shit too.” Alistair motions around the National Mall. “And apparently, so do you.” He presses a finger to my chest.

“You went to The Tombs first, didn’t you?” I accuse.

“And just about every fucking memorial in the Mall,” he admits with exaggeration. “My feet are killing me,” he complains, looking down at his shiny dress shoes.

“Now that I believe,” I chuckle.

Alistair puts his arm around my shoulders and we walk down the steps of the monument. “Why were you looking for me anyway?”

“I got my series seven,” Alistair boasts, barely containing his excitement.

“Congratulations.” I know Alistair wouldn’t comb all over Washington just to tell me that, so I wait for the bomb to drop.

“Which means I’m a qualified trader, my friend.” He raises his eyebrows and now I know what he wants.

“No. Absolutely not.” I shake my head. “I am not investing my money with you.”

“Come on, Dare,” he begs. “I need to show the firm I’m bringing in money.”

“Go solicit some unsuspecting friend of your father,” I offer.

“You don’t think I tried that?” He lowers his arms to his sides, looking defeated.

“Do not give me the puppy dog look. It might work on women who don’t know you, but it’s not going to work on me.”

“For one, I do not have to beg women to sleep with me, and two,” he pauses, “well, I don’t have a two, but Darren…” he calls behind me as I turn to escape. “Dammit, don’t walk away from me.”

Feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket, I hold my hand up for Alistair to stop as I take a call. He rolls his eyes.

“Sir, I’ve been notified that the jet is ready for flight,” Bailey explains on the other end.

“What are you talking about?”

“The crew called me to find out if you would be joining.”

On occasion my father would lend the plane to a friend or colleague, but I can’t imagine anyone would call in such a favor now. The thought of it upsets me even more so than if the crew had made a mix-up.

“Bailey, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I start to get agitated.

“I don’t think Evangeline knew that the flight crew would alert anyone.”

Evangeline?

Fuck!

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