Page 50 of Pick Six
Holy fuck. This woman is going to kill me.
And him apparently, judging by the way the little vein in his temple is popping.
“I think we’re good with dinner. I feel a little queasy. I could use a break for some scotch before dessert.” He stands abruptly and exits the room without another word.
My mother quietly clears her throat and sets her fork down on her plate, blinking a few times before she speaks.
“Why don’t you take Harper on a tour of the house for a bit? I’ll have Annie help me get dessert ready and hopefully by then your father’s… indigestion will have improved.”
“Sounds good, Mom. And again. Dinner was amazing. If you’ve got leftovers to spare, I’ll take them home.”
“Of course honey.”
“Harper? You ready?” I ask her and she looks a little pale.
The bravado she’d had just moments ago must be gone. She nods though and follows me down a hallway. I’m not sure how much she really wants a tour of the house as money has never been Harper’s thing, despite my father’s accusations. But if she likes history, the house is full of it. I lead her out to the conservatory where she can, hopefully at least, get a little air and breathe again.
Once we get into the open room, the cloudy light filters in through the glass panels and I turn to her.
“You okay?”
She still looks pale and now a little sheepish as her eyes meet mine.
“I’m really sorry. That was out of line. I’m not helping you by doing that. I just… the way he talks about you. It’s ridiculous. You’d think you lived in the basement with no job. I can’t stand listening to it. How do you deal with it?”
I shrug. “I’ve learned to deal with him over the years. It’s just how he is. If he’s not gravely concerned or incredibly unhappy about something, he doesn’t know how to get up in the morning.”
“Well, he should be more appreciative. I know he uses you for his campaigns. You’re probably the only likable thing about him for most voters.” She gives me a small smile and it makes my heart rate kick up another notch.
“Careful, Saint, or I’m going to think you’re going soft on me.”
“Right. Can’t have that.” She gives me a teasing smile in exchange and then looks around the room. “So this is what family money buys? Fancy conservatories and sprawling old houses with gorgeous views?”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Harper
“All for thelow price of selling your soul.” He gives a sidelong glance around the room as I make a tour of it.
“I don’t know. Might be worth it,” I say as I pass beneath a large fern plant.
I can’t imagine how much they must be spending just on landscape and gardening fees to keep the property and this room up. It’s gorgeous but daunting to think about.
“Thinking about putting your soul on the market?” He’s busy looking out at the view through the window but I see the wicked smirk in profile.
“If I thought I might get anything for the bid,” I answer, running my hand under one of the fern leaves, letting it brush over my fingertips. “Eventually I’ll have to figure out how to afford an apartment. Do you think I could sell off pieces of my soul at a time or sublet it? Something to create a steady stream of side income. I bet you have a good accountant. Maybe they could help me figure it out.”
I laugh a little at my predicament and the fact that I had spent a lot of time in my adult life trying to make smart decisions only to end up where I am now. I stare down at another smattering of plants, the purples and the greens playing off each other as they spill out over the miniature pot they’ve been put in.
“Or you could just sell it to me, Saint.” He’s so close when he says the words, his lips at my ear that I jump, and he wraps an arm around me to keep me steady.
I glance up at him and give him a scolding look but he just smirks in return.
“I might as well hand it to the devil in that case.”
He tilts his head from side to side, the hint of a smile playing over his lips. “That might be fair, but I promise you’d enjoy the depraved things I’d want from you a lot more.”
“You think?”
