Page 160 of Feed Your Fiends

I stiffen at that.

“Well, I still made her happy because I can do both. She’s really proud of me now,” Hale says smugly.

“It doesn’t take much.”

“Maybe one day you’ll feel the same acceptance from Alistair. Sure he’d never acceptme, but I’m not his son.”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m saying that at least my mother has come around. Has Alistair ever forgiven you for fumbling that deal with…” Hale snaps his fingers. “The Zaveris? The diamond empire’s daughter. Thanks to you, they pulled out of a collaboration with the Beaumonts, right? Wasn’t that worth a quarter-billion? And all you had to do was entertain their little bitchy brat for a summer.”

Zedd seethes. “That was a year ago.”

“Yet Alistair hasn’t forgotten. You should see how he’s talking to the Zaveris through his clenched veneers now.”

Zedd pales, dropping a chocolate truffle onto a silver tray that Hale tries to scoop up. “Silver trays are for guests. You're a worker. Eat from the golden ones.”

“What the fuck is the difference? It’s all food.”

But Zedd isn’t listening. “The Zaveris are here?”

“Don’t worry,” I say, plucking a chocolate truffle and Zedd’s lip twitches. “She isn’t here with them.”

“Why are they here in the first place?” He asks.

“The same reason Alistair is. Bart has a sudden interest in diamonds.”

“He’s seeing which company he wants to pick? That’s bullshit. Our families have been friends for three decades.”

“You can’t base a business on friendship. Besides, the Zaveris have those canaries.”

“Wehave canaries.”

“But they aren’t quite as golden, and Bart’s feeling rather yellow about yours.”

Zedd’s jaw ticks, his eyes boring into me.

“You didn’t know they were here?” Hale asks, a glint in his eyes. “I bet Alistair didn’t either. Bart blind sided him.”

Zedd looks at me as if I’d blind sided him. We all have our secrets.

“Do they know you’re here?” Hale asks. “Cooking?”

“You say it like it’s dirty,” I instigate for shits and giggles.

“For them, it is. You could be a Michelin chef, and it wouldn’t matter. You’re just acook. That won’t earn you a place on your family wallpaper, but marrying another diamond billionaire heiress and uniting those diamond empires,” Hale says, linking his fingers, “now that deserves a family portrait.”

“Never going to happen,” Zedd hisses.

“I wonder why? You’ve been trying so hard with their hometown cuisine, too.”

“You’ve been working on your cuisine too, huh?” Zedd retorts. “Need a spoon? A candle?”

“Crack is wack, Zaddy Zedd. You should know that.” He lifts one of the small powdered white doughnuts. “This will do just fine. Lately, all I need is a bit of white powder.”

Zedd smiles as the powdered sugar coats the tip of Hale’s nose. “Good.” He smiles, whipping out his phone. “Stassi needs to see this to take the hint, finally.”

“Send it to her,” Hale dares, blowing the powder onto Zedd’s camera lens. “You keep trying to tell her what a piece of shit I am, let’s show her. It’s time it sinks through her head.”

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