Page 138 of Sinful Like Us
I gape. “That is outlandish.” I’d expect that more from Charlie, but Beckett’s desperation starts to cling to the air like fog.
His joints lock up. “You don’t understand. None of you understand. Your jobs are here right now while mine is in another country. I can’t miss any more performances.” He blinks rapidly, on the verge of tears, and he keeps smearing a hand over his face. “My career is going to go to shit.”
I inhale an agonizing breath, practically sucking in glass shards.I did this.I fucked up his life. “I’m sorry.”
Maximoff gestures to my brother. “When we go home, we’ll do what we can so you won’t lose out on anything.”
I nod. “We’ll make this right.”
“I don’t want you two to pull strings.” He takes his Ray Bans off his wavy brown hair. “I earned my spot in the company, and the only way for me to keep it is if I’m there. So I’m leaving.” He glances at the grandfather clock near the staircase. “Three hours from now.”
Dear God.He’s still stuck to that.“Did you just pick an arbitrary time frame?” I ask. “Why not seven or eight hours from now?”
“Because I think it’ll take about three hours for a helicopter to arrive.”
Beckett.He’s not thinking this through. We have no access to a phone or internet, and before I say so, Akara chimes in, “None of us can call for a helicopter.”
Thatcher nods. “We don’t have the resources right now.”
My brother doesn’t seem deterred. So either he’s fooling himself or he has an ace in his sleeve. With a lithe movement, he spins towards the banister. “Charlie!”
Oscar shakes his head and then turns into Farrow to say, “That kid’s got every helicopter and private plane service on speed dial.”
Farrow whispers something back that I can’t hear.
And it’s not Charlie who descends the staircase into the foyer.
Joana Oliveira tosses her backpack on the growing pile. “Why does everyone look like they just got their asses kicked by me?”
Everyone is ominously silent.
“What they’re not telling you,” Beckett suddenly says, “is that we’re stuck here.”
Her face plummets. “What?” She whips to Oscar with wide, horrified eyes. “Bro.”
Oscar holds up a comforting hand. “I know—”
“My fight is intwodays.” Joana shakes her head in distress.
Quinn motions to his sister. “We’ll get you there, Jo.”
Oscar rubs his forehead, not as assured or willing to promise their sister. This has now turned into a royaldilemmaand not how I saw this informal meeting going.
I haven’t even taken a sip of coffee.
Really, I like Jo. From our short time together, I’ve found her put-up-or-shut-up energy very refreshing and rather amusing when directed towards SFO, who see her as a little sister. But right now, the air is very strained.
“Ican’tmiss this fight,” Joana emphasizes to her brothers.
Beckett tips his head to her. “Welcome to the Screwed Club.”
Oscar’s eyes flash with protective heat. “Beckett, watch yoursel—”
“We’re not in the same situation.” Joana cuts off her brother and spins on Beckett with angry brown eyes. “You’re a ballerina. I have a televised fight, and if I’m not there, I have toforfeit.I don’t have an understudy.”
Beckett restrains a soft smile.
She cringes. “Are you grinning?”
