Page 35 of The Cinderella Secret
“Like what?” asked Jackson.
Dominique sighed impatiently. “I really wanted his help on that scholarship review to help pick the winners for the Genevieve Fund. He went once and then no-showed for the final panel. I wanted him to help me review the contract on that building I invested in and he took the contract and then he disappeared for two weeks. Not even a damn text. I ended up having to ask Evan. Evan! I mean, really!”
“Did Evan help you?” asked Jackson, trying not to laugh at Dominique’s outraged tone.
“Well, yes, he did. He was actually completely civil, helpful and thoughtful. Which is just weird. I didn’t know what to do.”
Jackson grimaced. “Yeah, I had a taste of the old Evan a couple of weeks ago. I remembered how much I wasn’t a fan.”
“What did he do?” she asked, finally sitting in the armchair next to the sofa. She spared a moment to glare at the portrait of her grandfather, who had more than a passing resemblance to Evan, on the far wall. “Was he awful to you?”
“No,” said Jackson, “he was awful in defense of Aiden and I, and aimed at Charlie MacKentier. I’ve never seen the full Deveraux deployed as an offensive weapon against outsiders. It was kind of impressive.”
“Ugh,” said Dominique. “I hate that guy. He used to look at me when I was fifteen.”
“What?” asked Jackson, sitting up straighter. “Where?”
“I don’t mean he was a peeping Tom or anything,” said Dominique. “Charlie’s just one of those pervoids who looks at anything with boobs, and age and relationships don’t mean much to him. I mean, it’s not shocking—he was friends with Randall and Owen after all. He never did or said anything to me, but I could always feel him looking. It was icky. Anyway, my point is… Aiden: not that reliable.”
“Mm,” said Jackson. Dominique clearly didn’t know about Aiden’s alter-ego. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been this annoyed.
“That is distinctly not an answer,” said Dominique. “It’s barely even a response. You disagree with me?”
“Yes,” said Jackson.
“Why?” demanded Dominique.
“I’m not in prison,” said Jackson. “Eleanor didn’t let you go to my court stuff or the prison, but Aiden showed up. Which, since he didn’t even want to be there, I have always found impressive.”
“He had help,” said Dominique.
“He had to,” said Jackson. “It took too long for the Illinois bar results to come back. I don’t think that guy did that much though.”
“Aiden disappears,” said Dominique. “You know he does.”
Jackson debated what to tell Dominique. Unlike Eleanor, Dominique wouldn’t mind the illegality of Aiden’s secret life, but she would not approve of the danger and he doubted that she would accept that he was managing it successfully.
“Do you know,” said Dominique thoughtfully, “I’ve been saying that he disappears, but lately I’ve begun to think that he literally does go somewhere. Like at Easter when he was tan and he said it was spray on, but it definitely was not.”
“Yes,” said Jackson, “he makes semi-frequent, unannounced trips to South America and Europe. Something I’m extremely uncomfortable with.”
Dominique looked shocked. “Like… He really goes out of the country?” She blinked rapidly as if trying to assimilate this new information. “Dear God, please tell me he’s not running a drug cartel.”
Jackson burst out laughing. “A minute ago you didn’t think he could run a court case and now you’re fitting him up to be a drug king pin?”
“I told you—he’s very smart, but distractible. Maybe that’s what he’s distracted by.”
“No,” said Jackson. “It’s not that.”
“OK, but… He’s had problems with partying too much in the past. Is that what he’s doing? It doesn’t seem like he’s doing drugs.”
“It’s not drugs,” said Jackson, reassuringly. “I had him tested.”
“What? How did you get him to do that?”
“He doesn’t know I did it,” said Jackson.
Dominique laughed. “How did you manage that?”
