Page 79 of Never Bargain with the Boss
“Riley, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Riley. Kyle, fuck off.” He laughs so at least she knows which one he is. But to be sure, I point him out and stage-whisper to Riley, “Stay away from him. He’s not a hellion anymore, but he’s still a troublemaker.”
Everyone laughs at the good-natured taunt of my brother who has long been the black sheep of the family. He’s really grown a lot in the last few years—especially since he met Dani—and I feel like we’re only just now getting to know the adult version of who he is. That’s not to say he’s all good-guy now. He’s still rough, tough, and will fuck your shit up verbally or physically if he feels it’s warranted, but I wouldn’t want him to be any other way than exactly who and how he is.
“Just how you love me,” he replies, making smoochy kissing noises at me. To fuck with him, I blow him a kiss back, and I swear the look of gobsmacked shock on his face is worth the uncharacteristic move on my part. “Did you see that? I think Cam actually likes me. It’s a miracle!”
The display did just what I hoped it’d do, and honestly, probably what Kyle was slyly trying to do from the start, anyway—take the attention off Riley so she doesn’t get overwhelmed at the entirety of the Harrington family swarming her.
When I texted Mom that I would have a plus-one, I also sent a message to our sibling group chat, telling them the same thing. There were some pointed questions that I deftly sidestepped, but ultimately, I told my siblings that Riley and I are figuring things out before we talk to Grace so they needed to act cool. That means the rest of my brothers will probably peer at Riley like she’s a specimen under a microscope, but Kyle is a bit more proactive than that and I have no doubt that he’s backing me up in his own weird, twisted way, so I give him a head nod of acknowledgement, which he answers with a cocky smirk like he didn’t do anything. But he did, and I appreciate it.
“Are you going to stay in the foyer or come sit back down?” a rattly voice calls from the formal living room.
Grace reacts first. “Chuckie!” she shouts, dodging and weaving her way through the rest of the family to get into the living room to see her great-grandfather.
I glance at Mom, a little concerned. “I didn’t see their car out front?” My grandparents, Chuck and Beth, drive a huge red Lincoln Navigator so it’s not like I would’ve overlooked it.
Her sad smile tells me a lot, none of it good. “They flew in. I’m not sure driving this far would be a good idea.”
“Are they okay?” I whisper, but my siblings are all listening, anyway.
“Yes, they’re fine. Still riding horses every day and doing his recumbent bike, but I think it’s easier for them to go to the airport, take a short flight, and be here before they finish their onboard snack.”
I can see that, considering they’ll have flown private into a small, local airport. No commercial flights for Chuck and Beth Harrington when Grandad could buy the whole damn airport if he wanted to.
Mom starts to usher us into the living room, but Kayla stops me and Riley. “If you’re wanting to keep things on the down-low, you probably want to quit holding hands.” She says it completely straight-faced, but her blue eyes are virtually dancing.
It feels so natural that I didn’t even realize our hands are wound together, and though I hate to do it, I release Riley’s hand. Still, I give her a solid look of support. “We’ve got this.”
Kayla sighs in annoyance. “Your peptalks suck.”
Before I can respond, she’s already walked away, her stiletto heels clicking on the marble floor before sinking into the plush carpeting of the living room. As Riley and I follow her, the only sounds are my heart pounding in my ears and our feet slightly thumping, because despite Riley’s silky leopard skirt and blacksweater, she’s in her combat boots, which are perfect as far as I’m concerned. Riley’s bracelets and necklaces don’t even make a sound, which is how I know she’s such a nervous wreck, and she’s walking stiffly.
“Hi, Grandad, Grandmom,” I tell them as we enter the room. Grace is sitting between them on one of the sofas, probably having made room for herself there by squeezing right in. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Get over here and hug my neck,” Grandmom orders. She pushes herself up from the lush couch cushion with more ease than I’d expect of someone her age and yanks me down into a firm-armed hug. “Been too long, Cameron. I didn’t even recognize Grace at first. She went and grew up on me.” She stares at me accusingly like I’m responsible for the too-fast passage of time.
“I know. She does that to me too. Goes to bed looking so young and then wakes up rolling her eyes and calling me ‘Daaad’.” I throw my voice into an approximation of Grace’s annoyed voice, and Grandmom laughs.
“They all do that, I’m afraid. And you are?” Grandmom turns her attention to Riley.
I didn’t prepare for this. Everyone else knows there’s more than meets the eye with us, but I can’t exactly explain all that on the fly with Grace sitting a mere three feet away and likely listening even as she plays ‘count the coins’ with Grandad, a game that always ends with him giving her five one-dollar coins.
“This is Riley Stefano. Riley, this is my grandmother, Beth.” There’s so much I could say, but I stick with just Riley’s name, because calling her ‘Grace’s nanny’ doesn’t sit right with me when it’s only partially true.
Luckily, Grandmom is smart as a whip, and pretty accurate with one too. “Nice to meet you, Riley. Hope you’re keeping this one in line. He likes to think he’s all high and mighty, Mr.Dudley-Do-Right, but he’s as naughty as the rest of this lot. He just hides it better.”
Riley laughs but sticks to a friendly, “Nice to meet you too.”
Eventually, conversation turns back to a madhouse and it’s only me and her. She’s found a seat in one of the plush chairs, and I perch on the armrest, wanting to be close to her. She taps my arm, and I lean down to listen to whatever she wants to tell me. “Double-checking myself… Luna and Carter,” she points at my brother and his wife, and I nod. “Samantha and Chance.” Another point, another nod. “Janey and Cole, of course. Dani and Kyle.” One last nod.
Is it stupid that I like that she introduces my brothers in relation to their wives? Probably. But it’s the truth. For each of us Harrington brothers, there have been girls and women who chased us because of our money and/or our good looks. But to Riley, they’re just the husbands of the women she’s already met and made friends with, and I love that. Mostly for her, but selfishly, for myself a bit too.
“What about your dad?” she whispers.
I’m the one rolling my eyes like Grace now. “Probably in his office. Global markets don’t close for a U.S. holiday, so he’ll probably work until Mom calls him to the table.”
She purses her lips, not saying anything, but I can read her like a book now too, and she doesn’t like that any more than the rest of us do. Dad hasn’t always been a workaholic the way he is now, but it’s been so long since he had work-life balance that I don’t think he’d know what it was if it bit him in the ass. I’m not exactly one to call that particular pot-kettle black, but I have historically had at least some sense of balance for Grace’s sake. Dad is of no such compunction, especially after all us kids grew up, though he still meddles in all of our lives in some ways.
Everyone’s talking all at once and I try to tune in and listen, mostly out of habit. Carter is telling Grandad about a new stockventure he’s playing with. Chance and Samantha are excitedly reporting their podcast’s statistics to Mom and Grandmom. And Cole is waxing poetic about Emmett’s latest trick to Dani and Kyle. Well, for Cole, it’s poetic. For most people, it’d be more like a clipped news brief of Emmett’s improving ability to sit for longer periods of time, but given that Cole barely spoke to any of us and used to do a vanishing act after thirty minutes of family time, it’s great progress on both his and Emmett’s part, both mainly thanks to Janey.