Page 7 of Treasured By Them
“Heat and excitement.” Emily nods. “It’s not a bad thing, I promise.”
It could be bad, though, if that heat isn’t tempered. I look over to where Troy stands—the image of serenity, immovable.
“Shall we talk flowers?” Emily directs Danica’s attention to a tablet.
“Yes, let’s.” Danica leans over.
“Do you want my opinions on any of this?” I ask.
“Not particularly.” Danica shrugs. “Do you have any preferences?”
I grin. “Not particularly. Whatever you pick will be stunning, I’m sure.”
“So no pressure,” she says.
“None whatsoever.” And I mean it.
I wander past a display of giant sunflowers to stand near Troy. I lower my voice. “Hey. You doing okay since everything went down with Amber?”
“Yeah.” He peers into a walk-in refrigerator filled with floral arrangements. “Coming home to Dani made everything better.”
“Good. I’ll make sure Amber doesn’t come back to San Esteban, not for anything. Would be good if she does time, but her lawyers will probably get her out. Still, the Laytons won’t let her back in the city.” My resolve hardens. If she comes back, I won’t let anyone go easy on her. She’s had her warning.
Troy turns and watches Dani, so I follow his gaze. He keeps his eyes on her, not looking at me. “You know, you kept your cool at the hotel. I thought you might lose it, but it was like you turned into a robot. No emotion.”
I don’t know what to say to that. In that small AV room, I knew that if I felt too much, I’d do something I couldn’t come back from. So I shut everything off. All the feelings, gone.
I should be proud. Maybe I am. I was finally able to do what my father has wanted of me since I was born.
Shut everything off, muffle the emotions. Stop feeling so goddamn much.
It was surprisingly easy. I can see myself using that trick again.
Troy
In the evening, Edmund and I go with Dani back to her old house. Edmund looks out of place. I’m sure I do, too. We’re, what, almost ten years older than most of these people. Edmund isn’t wearing a suit, at least. He’s dressed down in jeans and a button-up. Still, he looks more polished than anyone else.
I’m in my usual—black pants, black t-shirt.
And Dani? She’s in a flirty little tank top and a pair of jeans that hug her hips and show off her ass.
The house is teeming with people, most of them in their mid-twenties. We’re here to celebrate Wallace’s graduation from San Esteban School of the Arts. So far the only artistry I see is the art of getting drunk. College kids, I guess. I watched Edmund do it, too. I never participated because I was too busy guarding his ass.
Dani’s red-headed friend, Rita, corners Edmund in the kitchen. I follow partway, keeping Dani in my sight in the living room.
“So where, pray tell, are you finding the Baciarvita bags?” Rita asks. “The back of a truck?”
“Close.” Edmund sounds amused.
Rita pauses. Maybe she expected him to be offended at the idea he stole the bags. No offending someone whose family runs the Salding district. In a more intrigued voice, Rita asks, “Can I visit this truck?”
Edmund chuckles. “Probably not, but I’ll keep your request in mind.”
Dani bustles in. “Where’s the cake? We need to bring it out before Wallace gets too shit-faced to appreciate my hard work.”
The cake is pretty special—a single layer with decorative icing and a mini drumset on top. Dani made it this morning while Edmund and I kept coming into the kitchen to steal tastes of icing. Her threats to “end us with a spatula to the gut” only resulted in her getting pulled over my knees and spanked.
Which she liked, of course.
