Page 74 of The Cinderella Secret
“You were pouring,” said Jackson.
Aiden looked up at Dominique. “Sorry. I didn’t see it. I mean, I remember a text coming through, but I thought it was about Granger and I never went back to it. Congratulations. I think that’s great. I really like Max.”
“Thanks. Now remember to say that when I tell Grandma. Jackson says she’s being weird about the idea.”
Aiden rolled his eyes. “When is she not weird about one of us doing something she didn’t personally plan?”
Jackson and Evan both grunted an emphatic agreement, and Evan went back to flipping through his pile.
“Agreed,” said Dominique. “But it’s happening one way or another. I was just hoping to do it at dinner when I had all of you with me.”
“I’m open Tuesday and Wednesday,” offered Aiden. “If you want to do a replacement dinner.”
“Wednesday would work for me,” said Dominique, looking cheered. “Guys?”
“Whenever,” said Jackson, and Evan nodded.
“Well, all right. I’ll email Grandma,” said Dominique. “Has Theo plied you with food and beverages?”
“We are well stocked in the sandwich department,” said Aiden around a yawn. He waved at the sideboard with the depleted tray of sandwiches. They had been reading papers for the better part of the day. Most of it was boring, with the occasional searing reminder of what dickheads his uncles had been.
“Well, in that case I will go away and pretend I never saw this mess. Good luck!”
She ruffled Aiden’s hair, and he winced as her fingers found the goose egg on the back of his head.
“Are you all right?” she demanded, poking the lump.
“Hey!” Aiden batting at her hand.
“Why is your head lumpy?”
“Pretty sure it’s been that way for years,” murmured Evan, and Jackson sniggered.
“My head may not as spherical as yours,” Aiden said, “but I don’t really think being shaped like an egg is something to brag about.”
Jackson laughed harder.
“You’re only encouraging them,” said Dominique to Jackson.
“Like they need encouragement,” said Jackson.
“That is entirely my point,” said Dominique.
“Aiden,” said Evan, frowning at him.
“It’s not really shaped like an egg. I just needed a come-back.”
“What? No. I wasn’t… That wasn’t what I was going to say.”
“Oh. What then?”
“I think this is what we’re looking for.”
“What is it?” asked Aiden, reaching for the paper Evan was handing across the table.
“It’s a print-out of an email from Randall. It was in Dad’s stuff. Dad used to paperclip his to-do piles. I think that’s what this group of stuff is. It was next to a dry cleaner tag.”
Aiden looked at the email. The ink was faded, and the paper had yellowed, but it was still legible.
