Jameson’s mouth felt suddenly dry, but he had no intention of letting the old man across from him see that. “Because I’m not a fan of corn or oats.”
Another lengthy silence, and then the Proprietor dropped his cane flat on the desk with an audible clunk. “You are interesting, Jameson Hawthorne. I’ll give you that.” The Proprietor walked around the desk—without the cane. “And I think it would be somewhat entertaining to watch you lose the Game.” He turned toward Jameson’s uncle. “It would feel a bit poetic, don’t you think, Branford? Ian’s son?”
He called him Branford this time, Jameson registered. Not Simon. Because this time, the Viscount Branford was not the one that the Proprietor was attempting to put in his place.
“But there is a balance to these things,” the man continued, his lips curving, eyes just beginning to narrow. “Weights on the scales.”
Nothing worthwhile, Jameson could hear his grandfather saying, comes without a cost.
“I’ll pay the levy,” Jameson said.
“In a fashion.” The Proprietor walked closer to him still. “I want a secret, Jameson Hawthorne,” he said, his voice low and silky. “The kind men would kill and die for. The kind that shakes the ground beneath our feet, the kind that must never be spoken, the kind you wouldn’t dare share even with the lovely Avery Grambs.” The Proprietor reached out, grabbing Jameson’s chin, turning his head to get a good look at every cut and every bruise. “Do you have a secret like that?”
Jameson didn’t pull back. Again, his mind went to Prague. Resist. Jameson didn’t. “I do.”
CHAPTER 46
GRAYSON
Gigi drove. It did not take Grayson long to ascertain that Gigi should not drive.
“You’re over the line,” he said mildly.
“So the car keeps informing me!” Gigi swerved to correct the problem. “But let’s talk about you. Do you know what Savannah said after the party last night?”
“I can only imagine.”
“Nothing,” Gigi replied. She turned to give Grayson a look. “That’s weird, right?”
“Eyes on the road.”
Gigi obligingly looked back at the road but wasn’t deterred from making her point. “And you just disappeared. Also weird. And the way the two of you reacted to my thinking-on-ye-old-feet subterfuge when Duncan asked what we were doing in his dad’s office?”
Gigi paused, and Grayson gathered that he was supposed to reply. “Weird?” he suggested dryly.
“Extremely!” Gigi came to a stop at a light and turned to look at him once more. “You two have a history, don’t you? That’s why Savannah has been in cat-with-an-arching-back mode since you got here. That’s why you’re here.” Gigi’s voice grew almost tender. “You still love her.”
“What?” Grayson squeaked. He had never squeaked in his life, but some things could not be helped. “No,” he told Gigi emphatically. “I told you—”
“You have a girlfriend,” Gigi said with a roll of her eyes. The light turned green, and she accelerated. “Fine, then. What is this imaginary girlfriend like?”
“Smart,” Grayson said, and there was still a part of him—a fainter part now, like an echo or a memory or a shadow—that had to fight to keep from seeing Avery’s face when he said it. “Not in a predictable kind of way.” He paused. “Maybe that’s a good word for her. Unpredictable. Unexpected.”
“In what way?” Gigi asked.
Echoes faded. Shadows receded in light. And some memories were meant to stay in the past. So this time, Grayson didn’t think about Avery. Instead, he thought about the black opal ring, about Nash holding his gaze and saying, Why not you?
“I am not a person who’s easily surprised or easily defeated,” Grayson said, his voice coming out thicker than it should have. “My partner…” That make-believe impossibility of a girl. “She can do both. She does both, frequently. She’s not perfect.” He swallowed. “And when I’m with her, I don’t have to be, either.”
“How did you meet?”
I am making her up as I speak. “Grocery store. She was buying limes.” Limes? Grayson cursed himself.
“Was it love at first sight?” Gigi asked with a little sigh.
“I don’t believe in love at first sight. Neither does she.” Grayson swallowed. “We just… fit.”