Page 22 of Silas's Sweetheart

“Fancy a beer?” Dad asked, bringing Silas’s attention back to him.

“Yeah, why not?” He walked after him, wanting a distraction. Only this time, it had nothing to do with work. “What do you make of Taylin coming home mated tonight?”

“I hate that I have to be paraded like some fucking chimpanzee in front of an audience,” he complained, not for the first time since he had sat at the counter with a plate of waffles and bacon in front of him.

Bessie bustled about around him making sympathetic noises. She was good at just listening and letting him vent. The beers the night before gave him a wooly head and a bitchy attitude.

“You just be you and it’ll all be fine.”

Silas choked on the piece of waffle he was chewing as he drew in a breath at the image of him tied to his office chair came to mind with her comment.

Bessie quickly slapped him on the back as he coughed so hard his eyes watered.

“Have a drink. Come on, sweetie.” She shoved his glass of juice at him, not stopping the back slapping.

“I-I’m fine,” he spluttered.

Bessie’s snort said she didn’t believe him, so he took the glass and drank the orange juice down in one gulp.

“It’s all this worry that’s making you choke. Those… those… a-holes just look to find an easy target to spill their nonsense about. Don’t let them get to you, sweetie,” she continued, getting the totally wrong idea. Not one he was going to dissuade her from. Not in a month of Sundays.

Popi appeared and rushed to him, fussing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he coughed out, his throat a little scratchy.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me, your voice is hoarse.” The frown deepened and the fine lines around his eyes became more obvious as a hand got placed on his forehead.

“Popi, I’m fine, I don’t have a fever. I inhaled and swallowed at the same time, and a piece of waffle went down the wrong hole.”

“What hole did you get wrong this time?” Jupiter asked, strolling into the kitchen dressed in a suit that flattered him. “I thought at your age, you’d have that all figured out.” The sexual innuendo got an eye roll from Silas, a giggle from Bessie, and a tut from Popi.

“I don’t think there is any need for that, Jup,” Popi scolded, then spoiled it by giving Jupiter a cheeky wink.

“Don’t encourage him, Popi.”

Jupiter bypassed Silas to go to the refrigerator and grabbed the pre-made smoothie Bessie prepared for him. He leaned against the counter looking at them. His eyes, the palest of blue that could sometimes appear colorless, glittered with mischief. “Who needs encouragement when you’re such a big target?”

“You be nice,” Bessie said, waving a finger at Jupiter. “It’s not right to talk about people’s weight.”

Jupiter snorted, but kept his thoughts to himself as Silas got up, deciding he was done with breakfast.

Popi, who had gone to fill his coffee cup, glanced at him as he approached, “Are you okay?”

He searched Silas’s expression, and the frown reappeared even as he did his best to conceal the anxiety that he felt at what was happening in a few hours’ time. The press had already caught wind—which they’d anticipated would happen—and had tried to get quotes before the press conference planned for today.

He bent and kissed Popi on the cheek, inhaling the soft scent he wore, before replying, “I’ll be fine. I’m just going to put the poster boy over there in front of them and let his stunning beauty blind them, so they forget all about me.”

He left the room grinning at hearing Jupiter choke on his smoothie, then shout out, “No fucking way are you throwing me under the bus!”

Three hours later, the grin was nowhere to be seen as Silas masked his emotions. The reporters filed into the boardroom set up for this occasion. Monica, Dad’s old personal assistant, looked formidable as she directed the crowd to their seats.

Many vied to get to the front while Silas blocked out the conversation, rehearsing the contents of the press pack in his mind. He didn’t want this, but he wasn’t going to reveal that to this bunch of assholes.

Kari whispered in his ear. “We got you covered.” He settled in his seat, then the madness began.

Chapter Eight

Ziggy

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