Page 90 of Maximum Dare
But I knew it was too late for an escape.
I returned their wave, muttering with clenched teeth, “You need to warn me.”
“We’re not going into battle, Maximus. This is social mingling of the highest order.”
I plastered on a fake smile. “You have to let me live my life.”
“Your life is all about work. You need other interests.”
“You encouraged me to join the firm.”
“I didn’t expect you to become a workaholic.”
“Lives are literally in my hands.”
“That’s lovely, dear. Keep smiling.”
“I have to make a call.”
“It’ll look strange if we don’t join them right away.”
My fingers tapped off a quick text to Daisy: “Homage Restaurant.”
Cresilla had been dragged into this debacle as well, it seemed. She was as much a victim of her parents’ meddling as I was.
Introductions were made: Gregory and Clementine were Cresilla’s parents and they lived in Norfolk on a farm. They were the tweed and Chanel wearing kind, inclined to sit up straight and offer everyone haughty glances.
“So how did you all meet?” I held a chair out for my mother to sit in.
“We host a function for the National Heritage,” explained Clementine. “Your mother made a donation to the last event.”
“She can be generous like that.” I narrowed my eyes on Mum and took the seat next to Cresilla. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand.
She blushed. “I hear you’re the big brother of Nick Banham.”
“Ah, yes. He’s the talented one.” I reached for my napkin.
The one who stole the spotlight—for which I was always grateful.
“And you’re an attorney?” asked Gregory.
“Yes, I live and work in São Paulo.”
“Is it terribly hot there?” asked Cresilla.
“Well, as we’re all running around naked, we don’t really feel the heat. Those Brazilian jungles are quite something.”
My attempt at humor was met with weak laughter.
Pain shot into my side where Mum’s elbow was currently being pressed.
Our waiter interjected with the timing of a guru who knows just what to say. He took our orders. Wine was summoned and tasted and agreed upon. I checked my watch. We’d only been here ten minutes.
“How often do you visit London?” asked Cresilla.
It would be easy to become enamored by her beauty, but beyond that I sensed an underlying coldness, a level of self-control that was undoubtedly due to a finishing school where they stripped students of all personality.
I feigned interest. “I visit London every few months.”
