Own Me (The Wolf Hotel, #5)(76)
Violet tugs on her periwinkle knit cap—another that she made herself during the long, quiet nights. Her blue eyes twinkle. They’re even more vibrant in the cold. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen the Rockefeller tree before.”
“My parents aren’t big on traveling. Or cities.” When I admitted this fact to Violet, she gasped in horror, and then she insisted on coming to Manhattan so we could see it together. It was as good an excuse as any to get her here again.
She shakes her head. “We come every year. Well, except last year, obviously. Mom would read up on the tree so we’d know its history.”
“Practically minutes away from me and I had no idea …” Henry’s jaw tenses. He stands on the other side of Violet, his stance solid, as if a barrier from the crowd. Looming not far behind us are Sullivan and Daniel, security guards for the Wolf who work as bodyguards off the hotel’s clock. They’re dressed casually, but anyone paying attention might question the two giant men moving in step, their heads on swivels.
So far, though, tucked in our winter coats and beanies, we’re just part of the crowd.
Violet steals a glance up at Henry, likely wondering where he places his blame. Audrey? His father?
Her?
He can be intimidating when he’s angry, especially if you don’t know him, and especially if you’re a teenage girl seeking his acceptance.
“What’s this year’s tree story?” I ask, hoping to keep the mood light. “Did you look it up?”
“Of course I did.” She grins. “It’s a Norway Spruce from Bainbridge, New York. It’s eighty-two years old, it stands eighty feet tall, and weighs twelve tons.”
“Wow.” I mouth, peering up at it again. “Can you imagine how much work it is to get it here and decorated?”
“There are videos!” Violet prattles on about the complex plan of security and cranes and trucks and five miles of light strands that wind around it. “Did you know that star at the top is worth one point five million dollars? And it’s just sitting up there, waiting to be stolen.”
Henry chuckles, his dark thoughts softening. “That thing weighs almost half a ton. I’d like to watch the fool try.”
She shrugs. “Desperate people do crazy things.”
“Speaking of crazy, have we seen what we needed to see?” He rubs his gloved hands together to emphasize his impatience. When I told him of this plan—standing in the cold with thousands of people to look at lights—he wasn’t thrilled, but he made sure to mark it in his calendar.
“Yeah. Now we have to get street meat and a hot chocolate.”
Henry cringes. “I’m not eating that.”
“You have to! It’s tradition!”
“I’ll have one with you,” I chirp before Henry can deny her. “What? I eat one every year at the carnival. They’re good.”
Henry shakes his head. “Do you two even know what’s in those?”
“Deliciousness.” Violet doesn’t wait, weaving through people with ease, as if she was born and raised in the city. The girl is fearless.
Henry jerks his chin at the guys to move, but it’s unnecessary. Sullivan’s already using his massive frame to intimidate people out of the way until he’s beside his ward.
She looks up at him and then spares an exasperated look over her shoulder for Henry.
“I’ve never had someone roll their eyes at me so much,” Henry mutters, his arm roped around my waist. Daniel flanks my other side, a step behind us. It’s been two weeks since that stupid magazine article hit shelves, and the online gossip cycle has moved on to a senator caught on video having his diaper changed at a sex party. I want to send him a thank-you card.
“She’s a teenager. That’s normal.”
“Did you do that?”
“No, but I wasn’t spawned by sin,” I tease. “Seriously, I think it’s a good thing. It means she’s comfortable with you.” As a person, and maybe even as her father.
“It’s a highly annoying thing.” But his lips curl with a smile.
Bishop Prep reminds me of my high school and every other high school I’ve ever stepped inside.
Same speckled vinyl floor that gleamed on the first day of school and hasn’t since.
Same line of gray lockers, every fifth or sixth wearing a dent from a toe kick or a shoulder.
Same faint odor of stale sweat and dirty socks permeating the air.
Henry leans down to whisper dryly, “Remind me again why Violet isn’t enrolled in the excellent private school seven blocks from here?”
“Because her friends are here, and this is her life.” I smile sweetly up at him.
He flashes me an unimpressed look. I know he only wants the best for her, but she’s had enough upheaval in her life. She needs something familiar, at least for now.
“Goodness, I haven’t been here in … well, since Audrey went here.” Howard wiggles his fingers at a little girl bundled in head-to-toe pink winter gear, her thumb in her mouth.
The Sunday morning after we trudged to Rockefeller Square, snow began to fall and didn’t stop for the next thirty hours, blanketing the northeastern states, wreaking havoc on travel, and earning these kids a day off from school. My flight to Chicago that Tuesday to write my exams was uncertain, so I ended up taking Henry’s jet.