Page 60 of Faux Real
“Seeing as I had no choicebutto be here, you should hardly be surprised,” Ollie jeers, his grip tightening around my hand. “This is Kennedy Carmichael, my uh—my girlfriend.” He faces me, forcing a smile. “Kenny, this is Charles Knight, my granddad.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Knight.” I put on a friendly smile, holding out my hand.
“Likewise.” Charles shakes my hand, studying me with a wary eye. “I must say, when my assistant told me my grandson was bringing afriend, I was anticipating someone more...colorful.”
“Granddad,” Ollie grunts through his teeth. “If I recall correctly, it is customary to make small talk for more than ten seconds before insults can commence.”
“Insults?” Charles asks. “I am merely making an observation. You mustn’t be so sensitive, Oliver, it is a poor trait in any man.” He peers down at me through his glasses. “Your name is Kennedy, is it? How unique.”
“My parents were big fans of the Kennedys,” I explain, my spine shivering from the icy atmosphere. “My dad loved JFK, my mom—” I swallow. “My mom adored Jackie O.”
“Is that so? How fascinating,” Charles muses. “And you attend Hilton with Oliver?”
“Mhmm,” I hum. “I do.”
“And how is he getting on?” Charles asks, glancing at Oliver who’s stiff as a board. “Is he making any friends or just—” He pauses, his lip twitching. “Girlfriends?”
“I think he’s adjusting quite well to the American life,” I state, picking up on the mild disapproval. Reminds me of my dad. “It’s never easy changing schools let alone countries.”
“Yes, well—”
“Charles! There you are!” We turn our heads toward the deep voice calling out in the distance. Striding toward us, Sawyer and Corrine in tow, are Malcolm and Sarah Redford. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Here we go,” I murmur, peering up at Ollie. “Let the games begin.”
“I’ve always loathed sports,” Oliver mutters, taking a step closer to me as he glares at Sawyer. “Athletes in particular.”
“Shh,” I scold, elbowing his ribs as they approach. I bite the inside of my cheek, tossing Corrine and Sawyer, who are dressed to the nines, a polite smile. “Play nice.”
“Malcolm, Sarah!” Charles exclaims. “I’d like to introduce my grandson, Oliver and this is hisfriend—”
“Kennedy, of course!” Malcolm says. “How are you doing? It’s been far too long. How’s your father? Still in DC?”
“As far as I know he hasn’t been fired yet, so yes, he’s still in DC,” I say, shifting my weight from one leg to another.
“Excellent, excellent,” Malcolm says, nodding his head. “I’ve been meaning to get in touch with him but he’s a hard man to reach. Perhaps next time you talk, tell him to give me a call.”
“Of course, Mr. Redford, gladly,” I lie. He doesn’t answer my calls either. “He’s probably just busy thinking of ways to, you know, invade other countries and claim their natural resources or whatnot.”
“Kennedy, I havedefinitelymissed your sense of humor.” Malcolm lets out a boisterous laugh. “Such a funny girl, isn’t she?”
“Simplyhilarious,” Ollie teases in a whisper. I toss him a subtle scowl. So annoying.
“Your father works in DC?” Charles asks. “What does he do?”
“Kennedy’s father works for the White House,” Malcolm answers on my behalf. “He’s a Military Advisor.”
“Is that so? Interesting.” Charles’s eyebrows pinch together. “How is it that you are all acquainted with one another?”
“Kennedy and our son dated fortwo years,” Sarah says, flashing me a warm smile. I catch Corrine’s eyes harden. “Malcolm and I weresodisappointed when Sawyer told us that the two of you split up. It was truly heartbreaking to hear.”
“Mom!” Sawyer hisses. “Please.”
“Oh!” Sarah covers her mouth, an apologetic glow in her eyes as she looks at Corrine. “Sorry, dear, I didn’t mean anything by it. We aresothrilled that you and Sawyer are together—” She glances at her husband. “Isn’t that right,honey?”
“Yes,thrilled,” Malcolm says, not hiding the disdain in his voice. “Kennedy and Sawyer both have their sights set on Harvard.” He looks at Corrine. “What college are you applying to again?State?”
Corrine swallows, looking nervous. “Oh, um...I haven’t really decided yet...sir,” she stammers. “I might um...take a gap year, you know, travel a bit. See the world.”
