Page 14 of The Cinderella Secret
“Dinner will be served in ten minutes,” said Theo.
“Thank you, Theo,” said Eleanor. “Perhaps if their faces are full of food they will stop spouting such utter nonsense.”
“That seems unlikely, Grandma,” said Aiden. “I can talk a lot of nonsense with or without food in my mouth.”
“We’re all aware of that, dear,” said Eleanor. “But we can try.”
7
Aiden – Follow the Leader
Aiden sat in his car and tried to picture how his conversation with Jackson was about to go. It had been four years and he still had trouble believing that Jackson was on his side. He had several reasons to believe in his cousin and Dominique had become impatient with his vacillating. In her opinion, Jackson was to be trusted before Grandma or Evan, and sometimes, Aiden suspected, before himself. That annoyed him, but the price he paid for keeping his secret life a secret was never really being able to open up to his family. Before Jackson come along, that had seemed fine, because that was how their family operated. But Jackson had changed a lot of things. Sometimes with his fists.
Aiden snorted, remembering how fucking drunk he’d been for Jackson’s come-to-Jesus conversation. Did it count as a conversation if it started as a fist-fight? It was the year after Jackson had come into the family and Aiden had spent most of that year and the previous one being miserable and drunk and partying with people he hated or taking fights that he knew weren’t good for him.
The part he remembered the most clearly was when he’d come to lying flat on his back in a lounge chair on the roof deck of his brownstone.
Jackson had been sitting on the end of one the other lounger and smoking. The rest of the roof was empty of everything but trash. Above him an airplane glided across the night sky, a tiny blinking red dot in a field of white stars.
That night had solved a lot of problems, but it hadn’t been able to really solve the main one—Aiden had secrets and he wasn’t about to share them.
Aiden took a deep breath and got out of the car. This was Jackson’s area of expertise. He was in the right place, doing the right thing. Mostly. He had to admit, he’d been dying to poke around in Jackson’s business the way Jackson poked into his. Aiden approached the building with the fading, peeling sign that readCheery Bail Bonds, which he thought of as the Deveraux satellite office, and tapped the swinging number nine of the building’s address above the door as he entered. He never asked why Jackson hadn’t changed the sign. For one thing, he got the distinct impression Jackson would prefer that he and the rest of the family forget that Cheery Bail Bonds existed.
“Well,” said Aiden, entering the front office and looking around, “this looks exactly as shitty as I thought it would when I read the purchase agreement.”
Pete Schalding, the private investigator responsible for finding Jackson in that hellhole jail, stood by a desk with a cup of coffee halfway to his open mouth. Aiden wasn’t sure what caused his shock, though it was enough to make Aiden question his choice of a pale pink shirt. Aiden had thought it was fun and sure to annoy the partners at Axios.
“It’s got that original bail bonds funk,” agreed Jackson, spinning around in a desk chair to eye Aiden.
It occurred to Aiden that his statement might have been misinterpreted. “That wasn’t a knock. It feels very authentic and seems exactly suited to its purpose.”
“So glad you approve,” said Jackson, opening a desk drawer and searching for something. “What’s up? You lose your phone?”
“No, after your comment about the house being bugged, I’m paranoid and I needed to talk to you. Besides, I wanted to see Cheery Bail Bonds in person.”
“OK, I’m off—” A large black guy with dreads came out of the back and cut off whatever he’d been about to say as soon as he saw Aiden. “Uh, laters,” he said with a quick wave at Jackson and ducked around Aiden and out the door. It was exactly the kind of thing that made Aiden think all of Jackson’s employees had the Deveraux faces memorized.
“I like how everyone you work with looks guilty when they see me,” said Aiden, just to needle Jackson. He was also fairly certain that none of the Deveraux were supposed to know what Jackson’s employees looked like.
“Most of them have residual PTSD from every lawyer experience they’ve ever had,” said Jackson, finally finding a pack of gum in the drawer and taking out a piece.
“That doesn’t make me feel really positive about your employees,” said Aiden, laying the criticism on between a bemused tone and a smile. Most people couldn’t figure out which part to respond to and said nothing.
“I’ll be in the back office,” said Pete, turning to head down the hall.
“No, I think Jackson might want you to stay,” said Aiden, making Pete stop. As the words had left his mouth, he recognized that he sounded arrogant. “And there’s no sense in hearing it second hand.” He added, hoping that softened it.
“Hearing what?” asked Jackson, leaning back and kicking the nearest desk chair toward Aiden.
“Coffee?” asked Pete, turning around.
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that,” said Aiden, taking off his coat and hanging it on the hat rack next to the Burberry scarf that Dominique had gotten Jackson last Christmas. By the time he’d seated himself, Pete was back with a mug for him. Aiden eyed the green mug with its fish handle in amusement.
“So,” Aiden said, putting his feet up on the nearest desk. Pete sighed and Aiden looked at Jackson in surprise.
“Ignore him,” said Jackson. “I’m convinced he got this job because he and Eleanor share deep feelings about feet and furniture.”
“But,” said Aiden, looking at the desk critically, “it appears to be made of sawdust and plastic.”
