Page 72 of Seduced By the Mermen
I push the cracked door open the rest of the way and blink at the bright lights. “Lights fifty percent,” I tell the house system for the corridor.
“That’s so much better, thank you.”
I take Blair’s hand from my shoulder and help her out of the stairway.
“And thank you both for showing me the observatory. It’s amazing.”
“You’re welcome,” I tell her. “I’m glad I—we—were able to show it to you. It’s especially lovely tonight.” I’d forgotten how much I like being there. Watching the waves of colors. When we first moved to this apartment, I spent hours there.
“Well, it was really special.” She grabs my hand and reaches back and takes Sterling’s too. I’m shocked he doesn’t pull away or not let her take it to begin with. She’s tugging him along, withhim taking up the rear, until we reach the archway of the dining room.
Heads snap to us, and conversation stops. Everyone else is already sitting around the table. The chair that Sterling normally sits in is empty, along with two chairs next to each other at the other end of the table. I make a quick decision and sit where Sterling normally does, leaving the empty pair for Blair and Sterling.
Forrest, seated next to one of the empty chairs, pops up and holds Blair’s chair for her.
“Oh, thank you.” She smiles up at him as he takes his place back at the head of the table. Sterling, on the other hand, glares at me.
Rodgers and a server enter with the last platters of food, placing them on the table. “If there’s nothing else, we’ll be going. Dessert is in the kitchen.”
“Thank you. And happy Feast of Liberisca to both of you,” I say, and it’s echoed around the room.
“We’ll be doing the dishes. I hope you don’t mind,” Delmar says to Blair.
“Oh, I don’t mind doing dishes.”
“Not you, Blair. We’ll do them,” Forrest says, picking up the closest platter to him and holding it for her to take some.
Actually, doing the cleanup after a large feast has become something we do without thinking. It’s rather like a waltz, with all of us knowing the prescribed steps. Delmar washes, Forrest and Grayson dry, and Alexei bundles up the food. Zion and I clear the table and take care of the linens, and Sterling sweeps the floors.
“I can help. I’m rather good at washing dishes.” Blair laughs.
Sterling still hasn’t taken the seat next to her. “Delmar washes,” he says.
“Oh, well, I can find some way to help.”
“I’d love it if you helped me,” Delmar says.
“Wonderful, that solves that.” Blair cranes her neck to face Sterling behind her. “Something wrong, Sterling?” She pushes out the empty chair next to her.
“No.” Sterling slides into the chair. “Nothing’s wrong.” The thing with being big and scary is you start to make assumptions that everyone is going to cower from you. But for your family, you’re not big and scary. You might be a pain in the ass and some extraordinary fun to poke at.
My eyes flick to Zion. He’s across the table from Sterling. Back in the day, it would be the two of us poking at Sterling or Forrest when they got too stuck in their ways. Now? I’m the one who needs to be reminded to lighten up.
There are a thousand thoughts whirling in my brain—from how much I want these things to work with Blair to the krill of an idea about building a smaller, more public observatory for bioluminescent animals, and the Tinom dome design. The Tinom dome looms larger than anything else. My latest project is never too far from the front of my brain. Will the Driftwoods cancel my contract? Even this far into the project? If we mate Blair, there’s no way I’ll get the new Tinom dome. I’ve already got sketches, bits and pieces of an idea. Hale was right when he said it could be the difference in my legacy as an architect. What other legacy will I have? I’m not a father, not a politician or a doctor. Zion’s turned around the company he’s CEO of, and Delmar had a student dedicate his thesis to him last year. The foyer of the Maelstrom isn’t enough.
My eyes flick from Zion to Blair. She’s watching me, and I didn’t notice until now. Her lips are closed, her blue eyes wide, but the twinkle’s missing—and in the dim light of the observatory, it was still there.
Grayson kicks my foot under the table. “Everything okay, Blair?”
“Yes.” She clears her throat. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything smells delicious. I’ve got to be honest, though—I don’t recognize most of the dishes other than the hedge-tots.” She nods to the dish of root vegetables and cheese fritters, a favorite of all podlets.
Forrest leans into her and points out each dish, telling her what’s in each one as they’re passed around the table. Delmar’s too busy watching Blair and hasn’t passed the last three things from near his plate. I’m locked into watching the scowl on Sterling’s face.
Blair passes a platter of fried clams to Sterling, but there’s nowhere for him to set it so he can serve himself.
“Would you like some?” she asks, the smile back on her lips. It’s a smile I don’t want to see waver.
He’s about to say no, out of spite, but they’re his favorite food. “Thank you,” he says, without his characteristic growl.
