She didn’t look at any of us but continued talking as if in some sort of a trance.
“I went to med school because it looked great on paper. I dated Craig because the story was amazing—childhood sweethearts, ski vacations together from age nine. I stuck around Mom and Dad, even though I missed the East Coast every day. I wanted to be the perfect one. The good one. And I paid a terrible price for it. But I think, out of all the damage I’ve done…” She licked her lips, her eyes glittering unshed tears. “The most awful was that somewhere along the way, I became a horrible person. A person who didn’t care about anything but her image. A monster that fed on its own misery. I’m really sorry, Hallie. You didn’t deserve this. Not the bad treatment, or my doubt, or my attitude. I’d been horrible to you in the past, for no other reason than wanting to be the best and hating the competition. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I let my insecurities ruin everything.”
This was the time to say something important and profound. But I couldn’t find the words. So…I said nothing.
We sat there in silence for a few minutes. I used the time to get used to their presence.
Hera spoke first, wiping at her wet eyes.
“Gosh, this is awkward. Let’s grab something to eat. I didn’t eat any of the private plane food. It looked like it had sat in the fridge for years.”
It put a smile on my face, despite my best efforts.
“Bunny, do you know a place?” Mom asked.
“Well, yes, but it’s vegetarian.”
“All the better.” Dad stood up. “Getting tired of all that red meat.”
I took them to an Indian restaurant, where I ate my weight in Chole, rice, and baked samosas. I enjoyed the food so much I wanted to weep. I hadn’t eaten out in weeks. Maybe months. Fine dining had become a luxury I couldn’t afford.
My family must’ve picked up on the rabid animal vibes, because my dad patted the corners of his mouth clean, pretending like it wasn’t a huge deal that he was here, in this little neighborhood restaurant with no less than three secret service agents watching us.
“You know, you can always get an allowance from us. It doesn’t have to be an extravagant one.”
“No, thank you.” I set my fork down onto the table, too full to breathe. “I won’t take your money, but…” I glanced between the three members of my truly screwed-up family. “I’ll share your company. Maybe. Baby steps and all.”
Hera smiled. “Baby steps.”
“So…” Dad cleared his throat. “Are we going to talk about the kidnapping scare?”
Eh. I hadn’t discussed it with anyone, other than the police for a statement and some follow-up questions. Weirdly—or maybe not so weirdly—I wasn’t even worried about being a target. Traumatized—yes. It was pretty horrible to go through all that. But not scared. I knew the incident had nothing to do with me and everything to do with Ransom. And besides, everyone who took part in the kidnapping operation was locked up and awaiting trial on hefty charges. I heard the DA was stitching up an airtight case against Kozlov.
“It was barely two hours,” I minimized.
“Still,” Dad said. “I cannot imagine what you went through in those hours.”
“It wasn’t the highlight of my life. No.” I became cagey and uncooperative. I knew where the conversation was going.
“Ransom saved the day,” Mom stated. I didn’t reply. “Yet…you decided it was best you part ways with him. How come?”
“It was more of a mutual decision,” I lied, searching desperately for the waiter so I could signal for the check. “He wanted to go back to Chicago, and this happened on the heels of everything with you guys, and I just…I wanted to be alone. Completely alone. And the only reason I’d ever agreed to have him babysit me in the first place was because I depended on your money. Which is not the case anymore.”
It was also one of the reasons why I would never take a dime from them again. The feeling attached to it made my skin crawl.
Mom nodded. “You seemed to have gotten along fine.”
Hera tried to catch my gaze. I stared at the ceiling. I didn’t want to think about him. His name alone did awful, delicious things to my stomach, even now. I hated how I missed him. Missed him despite everything.
“I rolled with the punches,” I said finally.
“I met with him the other day,” Dad said conversationally. I felt his gaze on my face, and I couldn’t help it. I broke down and peered at him, every cell in my body thirsty to hear more.
“Oh, yeah?”
He nodded. “He is opening a cybersecurity department. I promised I’d help him.”
“I hope he’s doing well,” I said cautiously. I meant every word of it. I did hope he was well. Even if it was without me.
“He’s a hard guy to read.”
“Hmm.”
“He asked about you.” Dad picked up his glass. Swirled the imported beer inside it. My heart raced dangerously.
“Yeah?” My voice was high-pitched. Different.
“I told him I had no idea. That you cut us all off.”
“And how did he respond?” I no longer tried to feign indifference.
Dad stared ahead, pinning me with a look. “He looked proud.”
“You had something special with this man, didn’t you?” Mom sniffed.
“Oh, Mom, shut up. This is so over the line!” I cupped my face, channeling the bratty teenager I never had the chance to be.
“I’m not saying it was romantic!” Mom screeched. “Just that you seemed to deeply care for each other. I remember him being very protective of you.”
“Uh, duh! He was my bodyguard. Can we talk about something else?”
“Yes!” Hera announced with a flourish. “Let’s talk about how I want a divorce party! One with a funny cake and empowering movies and cocktails! Cocktails with sugar in them! I want to go wild.”
I laughed.
For the first time, I felt like I had a family.
A dysfunctional, weird family.
But a family, nonetheless.
Three months later.
“What I’m hearing is, we will be your first stab at campus security.” Dax Gorsuch, the insufferable human answer for a fart, AKA the provost of Clarence University, Chicago, sat in front of me in my boardroom. He looked so full of himself, as if all I’d need was a pin to make him burst and bleed liquid ego.
I felt Tom’s eyes land on me. I was the one who handled potential clients. Tom wasn’t good at public speaking. Or, you know, at speaking in general, for that fucking matter.
“No.” Tom cleared his throat finally, when he realized I wasn’t going to say anything. “That’s incorrect, sir. We actually have extensive experience with securing large events and parties. We are experts at access control, security assessment, systems monitoring, and preventive hallway and parking lot intervention.”
“It’s going to be bad.” Gorsuch stroked his wobbly chin, drumming his fingers on my custom oval wooden table, leaving marks. “We’re bringing in this whacky, extremist political news personality. He’ll bring his own security, but we’re already seeing demonstrations on campus. It’ll get violent. One hundred percent. And I really don’t want a lawsuit on my hands.”