Page 18 of The Cinderella Secret
“Why?”
“Because he is never alone with Dominique.”
“That’s because we make sure…” Aiden trailed off. When was the last time Evan had even gone into the house when it had just been Dominique? “We used to make sure…”
“You set the rules,” said Jackson, “and Evan obeys. You don’t obey if you don’t care. He rages and snaps, but he obeys all the same.”
“What if I don’t want a brother?” Aiden demanded, knowing he sounded childish.
“Then you should have thought of that before you got me out of prison,” Jackson said calmly.
“I just want it to be like when we were kids,” said Aiden. “I want my mom back. I want my dad. I want Evan to be OK. I just want… I didn’t want it to turn out like this.”
“And I don’t want to be alone anymore,” said Jackson.
There was the sound of feet on the stairs and then Dominique burst through the doorway wearing a black cocktail dress. She walked quickly over and looked down at them.
“You have a black eye,” she said accusingly to Aiden.
Aiden put his hand up and touched his face. “No wonder that hurts.”
Dominique put her hands on her hips and looked exasperated. “You’re a fucking idiot! What the fuck are you trying to do? Do you think I want one less family member? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m fucked up?” he offered.
Suddenly she dropped down onto the lounger and hugged him, squishing painfully against his bruised ribs.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said with her face on his shoulder, “but I was at a party with Grandma and I didn’t think you’d want her to know.”
Aiden processed that. “Brothers first?” he asked, patting her back.
“Right,” she said, sitting up. She gave a sniff and wiped her eyes. “You can’t keep doing this,” she said. “Please stop.”
“Decision time,” said Jackson.
Aiden looked at Dominique, then over at Jackson, who was pulling a pack of Sobranie cigarettes out of his pocket. Jackson didn’t want to be alone. He looked at Dominique. Their parents were never coming back. But at least Jacksonwantedto make Evan OK. Maybe Aiden could get some of what he wanted. But that meant that Jackson had to get his wish. “I’ve decided…” said Aiden. He transferred the business cards Jackson had given him to the other hand and then reached out and took the pack of cigarettes away from his cousin. “I’ve decided I’m going to go to”—he looked at the card—“New Beginnings on Monday. And that Jackson is quitting smoking.” He threw the pack overhand and they all watched it arc over the edge of the building. Getting a new brother didn’t mean he had to be the little brother.
“Well, that’s probably good,” said Dominique. “It makes him look like Uncle Randall and it creeps me out.”
“Reason enough to quit,” said Jackson with a wry smile.
After that night, Aiden had spent months waiting for his grandmother to make some comment on his ACLU work and demand that he write up something for the newsletter. The request and the commentary never came. But it was another year before he really believed that Jackson hadn’t told her. He supposed that he could have told Jackson the other stuff then. Or told him any time in the two years since. But he’d never even told Dominique. Number Nine and Cinderella were a secret that was all his, and Aiden liked that. On the other hand, he also liked that Evan was civil at dinners, laughed a little these days, and came to see him at the office when there was a problem. Evan might not be entirely better, and Jackson might pry too damn much, but life was infinitely better than four years ago.
Jackson had earned some amount of honesty.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Aiden with a smile, ignoring the way Pete was watching them with raised eyebrows. “I did not touch Mr. Huang. But it is possible that I may have dropped his wallet in a urinal.”
Jackson laughed in the whole-hearted way that always made Aiden smile. “How did you manage that?”
“It’s easy,” said Aiden with a shrug. “I used to do it all the time with photographers. If you stay at a place long enough and the photographer is determined to wait, they will eventually get cold and go into the bar across the street. Apparently, the same is true about other people who follow you. So I waited until he went into a bar, then I ducked out the back of the art gallery and went into the bar and grabbed his wallet from his back pocket. He chased me into the bathroom and I told him to not show up again and tossed the wallet in the urinal. While he was busy trying to retrieve it, I went back outside and caught a cab.”
“Nice,” said Pete with a nod.
“Thanks,” said Aiden, feeling genuinely complimented. “But meanwhile, you didn’t look surprised. Who else are they following?”
“Evan called me this morning and said I should do something about the Asian person following him around. I just sent someone over. And Dominique says Max dropped a bag of garbage off the deck and onto someone’s head last night. Although, either they aren’t following me or they are better than I am. I haven’t seen anyone. I’m not sure if my feelings should be hurt or not.”
Aiden chuckled, but then frowned. “I don’t like this. People should not be allowed to follow my sister around and Evan has enough problems without adding a bullshit stalker to the list. Can’t you”—he waved a hand at Jackson—“squash them in some way.”
