Page 54 of Old Money

“No shit,” I say.

“I’m sure he thinks she’s after?—”

“I don’t give a damn, Brooks,” I say. “He’d be one to talk if he was concerned a woman was after my money while planning a million-dollar party for his third wife.”

Brooks smiles and shrugs.

“Not saying you’re wrong, Big Brother,” he says, “but he’s the king.”

Like he heard us, Cato enters the room, dressed to the nines in a suit that makes him look as suave as ever.

“Are we ready, boys?” he asks. Brooks whistles, popping up.

“Damn, Pops,” he says, “looking sharp as always.”

“I try,” he says with a modest shoulder pop. “No sign of the ladies yet, eh?”

I shake my head as we make our way toward him.

“Not yet,” I say.

“Ah, let her have her fun,” he says. “I trust you’ve taken care of?—”

“Dad, the reason it took this long for me to tell you about her was becauseshedidn’t know if she wanted it out. You don’t need to worry. But I just want to confirm again that there is not supposed to be any press here. I promised her.”

My father nods slowly.

“No press,” he says, his eyebrows knit together like he’s not quite sure what to think about someone whodoesn’twant press.

Trust me, Pops. Been there.

“Come,” he says, leading us out the door of the family wing and into the main living area. Just as we’re walking out, so are the stylists from Angelina’s suite. Her assistant, Diana, scurries out with a headset in.

“Yep. Great. Open doors in five,” she says into it then turns to us with a smile. “Evening, sir. Miss Angelina is all ready. Now, her intro will be at eight on the dot. Gives guests about thirty minutes to arrive. We will do hors d’oeuvres in the foyer hall, bars will be open, and then we will call everyone into the main hall for her introduction.”

As she’s giving her instructions, though, the door to the suite opens again, and my beautiful girl steps out. She’s wearing the gown I bought her, a deep navy that hugs her body in all the right places, with heels that I want to take off and chuck across the room.

She looks like a fucking goddess, and it’s all I can do not to rip it off her right now.

“Jesus,” I cough out as I walk toward her. She bites her lip, and I bend down to kiss her, careful not to smudge anything. “You look…unreal.”

“Yes, breathtaking, Sawyer,” my father chimes in as he walks past us toward the main house.

“Fuckin’ smoke show is what you are, girl,” Brooks says, and I whip my head to him.

“I’ll kill you where you stand,” I warn him. “Go.”

They both laugh as he walks by us, and then I hold her at arm’s length.

“Let me get a good look,” I say. “My god, woman. You’re liable to kill me.” She laughs, then I see her hand reach for her neck, and my heart stops for a moment. She’s got on the diamond-and-sapphire necklace that my grandfather gave my grandmother when they moved back to Bedell House. The story was that the Duchess of Edinburgh gave it as a gift herself, although we never confirmed it. When he bought it for her, she wore it every single day until she died. My grandfather wanted to bury her with it, but my father convinced him not to. And I know for a fact that he has it appraised every year, despite the fact that it’s willed to me when he dies.

It’s the only material thing that has ever meant anything to me, because it reminds me of the two people who showed me what a real love looked like.

And now it’s on her neck.

“Angelina told me I should wear it,” she says. “She said it matched the dress so well. But I don’t know, I…I feel…I think I should put it back. It’s not?—”

I stop her, reaching for her hands and bringing them down from her neck.

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