Page 43 of The Golden Hour

“Assuming either exists,” I mutter, then sigh. “If I were her, I would destroy everything. Especially a paper trail. Why keep evidence of past crimes? It doesn’t make sense.”

Callisto murmurs, “You’re probably right. Vivian wouldn’t be sentimental about my father’s old files. And with her run for governor coming up, I’m sure the computers in the house are squeaky clean.”

Molly slumps. “Then what? Maybe there’s something in the safe?”

“Like a written confession?” I grouse. “Besides, I’m not sure your amateur lock-picking skills are up for the job.”

“Smartass.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Callisto cracks a smile—a small one, but it stirs something unfamiliar inside me. When she notices me watching her, she doesn’t look away. Not this time. Instead, she holds the contact, the echoes of her smile still there, and for a moment I forget it all. My mission, my hatred, my rage… like shedding the armor I’ve worn for years, I feel lighter and free.

Then I open my stupid mouth.

“When can you introduce me to Vivian?”

Her eyes empty of emotion. “I, uh… I’ll ask her about inviting you to dinner on Thursday. My uncles will be there.”

“They’re there every Thursday?”

She nods. “After dinner they usually have a meeting in Vivian’s office.”

I groan. “What are the chances that room is wired?”

She shakes her head. “Highly doubtful. And knowing my uncle Franco, it’s probably got all sorts of tech to prevent anyone outside the house from listening in.”

Struck with an idea, I lurch forward in my chair. “But if they’re all in the office, then the rest of the house is free game.”

She frowns. “You can’t wander around the house alone.”

“What if I get lost looking for the bathroom?”

“Then you might as well give up trying to impress my family.”

I smile in spite of myself. “Good point.”

Molly stirs. “What if you want to show your date around? Or”—she flushes in embarrassment—“maybe find a private place to, you know…”

Callisto turns beet red and doesn’t look at me. “I’m not sure I’d take a date to the basement, but we could walk around a bit. But first I have to convince Vivian to let Finn come to dinner. Guests aren’t normally allowed.”

“Convince her I’m a special case.”

Molly snorts. “Oh, you’re a special case, all right.”

I roll my eyes.

Then Callisto laughs, the soft, melodic sound surprisingly sultry, and I decide being the butt of my aunt’s jokes might not be so bad.

24

After the rocky start to our fake date, it ended up being one of the best nights I’ve had in a while. The three of us played a raucous game of Scrabble, ate too many Oreos, and Finn even disappeared for a while so Molly and I could talk. Then he drove me home, requested my phone number, and walked me to the front door with assurances he’d call tomorrow. The awkwardness of should we hug or something? was thankfully dispelled by Lizzie yanking open the door, hoping to catch us doing anything but what we were doing… shuffling like teenagers who don’t know how to use their limbs.

At Lizzie’s arrival, Finn merely grinned and waved goodbye before retreating to his car.

I don’t understand him. How can a person be so hot and cold? How can his hard gaze turn my stomach inside out, then melt it through my feet with a different look? How can the asshole who threatened me in a closet be the same person who fist-bumped me when I won Scrabble?

He makes my head spin.

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