“Oh my...” Emotion cuts off his response, flooding his face as he pushes up from the table. He stares at her, unmoving, his glassy eyes scanning her from head to toe until they finally land on her sweater. “It’s green,” he says in a hoarse voice.
Tears drip down Naomi’s cheeks as she nods. “Mommy would have liked this one, I think.”
Julian chokes on a response and opens his arms when Naomi rushes to him. “She would have loved it, Omi,” he says softly, wrapping her tight. He whispers something else I can’t hear, and Naomi nods, her tears coming harder against his shoulder.
I turn away and press my sleeve to my eyes. It comes away warm and wet. When I look back, Julian lifts his gaze to me over her shoulder and mouths, thank you. I smile back.
Pretty sure this transformation was all him.
CHAPTER 21
JULIAN
“Wait, what was that?” I call out from the stove. I’ve never been much of a cook, but Naomi’s into broccoli all of a sudden, so I hit the internet hard for idiot-proof recipes. This one is supposedly a stir fry but it’s looking less stir and more fry for some reason. I turn the heat down on the range and hope for the best.
“You mean this part?” Naomi replies from the chair at the table. She has it pushed back so she can balance her guitar on her lap and practice while I work on dinner. She plays the same progression that just got my attention.
“Yes, that! I like how you switch to the minor on without you. Do that instead of the C. And maybe take the melody up on the out instead of going down.”
“Like this?” She plays the line one more time, and I point my spoon at her.
“Yes, exactly like that. You like it?”
She grins and leans forward to scribble something on the page in front of her. “This song is getting so good, Uncle J.”
“This song is freaking amazing. You are going to rock that showcase.”
“As well as you’re gonna rock dinner tonight with The Crawfords?” She says the name with an exaggerated snooty accent. I can’t decide between a laugh and a grunt. What comes out is probably in between.
“Yeah, we’ll see. Rock may be a strong word. I’m aiming for surviving.” I scoop a spoonful of my concoction onto a plate and grab a fork. “So this is supposed to be Jennie Jules’ Asian-Inspired Stir Fry,” I say, placing the dish on the table. “Let me know what you think.”
She bends over the guitar to inspect it and… wait. That’s not a grimace. “Hmm. Smells good at least.” I breathe a sigh of relief when she props her guitar against the wall. “You’re getting better, Uncle J.”
“Thanks,” I say rinsing my hands and grabbing the dish towel. “So are you.” I wink on my way past, and she grins through a mouthful of vegetables. “I’m gonna go get ready. You sure you’re okay tonight? I can tell Hadley I can’t make it. She’d totally understand.”
“Yeah, she’d understand that you’re using me as an excuse to bail.” She’s not wrong. “Sorry, Uncle J. You’re going to have to face the royals again. I’ve got an entire season of Teenage Werewolf to watch.”
This time my reaction is definitely a grunt. “And you don’t need help with that?”
“Watching TV? Think I’m good.”
“The remote can be finicky.”
“I got it, Uncle J.”
“Plus, a light bulb could go out.”
“I know the number for nine-one-one.”
“Oh, and there’s that thing with the bathroom sink—”
“Bye, Uncle J!”
I sigh and finish the trudge to my room.
One hour and six unsuccessful excuses later, I’m standing on the doorstep of an obscene mansion. Is Hadley actually more nervous than the night of that April Mist disaster? I reach for her hand, and she squeezes back, lifting a weak smile.
“You look incredible,” I say.
“Thank you. You look…” She glances over, surprise on her face like she hadn’t noticed my appearance until now. Man, she’s a mess tonight. I hate that she lets these people do this to her. They’re not even in the same league as she is.
I grin, happy to help her out. “Hot? Sexy? Gorgeous? Fuckable—”
I freeze at the sudden presence of a stern man in the doorway. He gives me the most dramatic look of disdain in the history of disdained looks. At least the awkward moment gets a smile out of Hadley. I feel her amusement as we follow whoever this person is into a massive foyer.
“I will let the Crawfords know you’ve arrived, Miss Crawford,” the man says and whisks off into the cavernous home.
“He loves me,” I say, and Hadley huffs a laugh.
“Yes. Clearly. And I’m sure you’re very concerned about what Arnold thinks.”
“Was that Arnold?”
She nods, and I like the humor in her eyes way better than what was there a minute ago.
“I’ll shed my tears over Arnold later if that’s okay with you.”
Hadley bumps my shoulder with hers and leans toward my ear. “By the way, you do look hot. But more importantly, thanks for doing this. I know another dinner with my parents is probably the last thing on your list of fun.”
Maybe, but despite my pretend excuses, there was no way in hell I was going to let her face them alone after what I saw last time. To her I say, “I heard there’d be tiny food.”
She grins and yeah, that’s way better. Without thinking, I press my lips to her beautiful smile. Couldn’t help it. She startles at first, then grips my sleeve to deepen the kiss. We’re interrupted a second later by irritated throat-clearing.
We exchange an amused look as we break apart and turn to meet the sour faces of both Mr. and Mrs. Crawford. I guess we’re past the pretending to be cordial phase of our relationship. Good. Those facial expressions were freaking creepy. I much prefer the look of blatant disgust for me as they greet Hadley.
“Oh, we weren’t aware you’d be bringing a guest,” Pearl says, shifting her gaze to me. She doesn’t try the same awkward cheek-kiss thing she just gave Hadley. Another thing for the plus column.
“I told you Julian was coming,” she mumbles, glaring at her parents.
“Did you, dear? I don’t recall,” Pearl says. By her smug look, she absolutely recalls.
“Well, how fortunate we could surprise you,” I say, plastering a delighted look on my face. “I never miss a chance at family bonding.” Hadley jerks my hand, but her eyes don’t seem as mad as her hand. Neither do her lips that tick up slightly.
“Oh? Are you close with your family?” Pearl asks.
“Just my niece,” I say honestly—and also to get the unpleasant reaction I’m getting now at the reminder of our last encounter.
“Well, this way to the dining room then. Shall we?” Remington calls out from several feet away. He never even moved from his original spot.
They lead us to a room with a table as big as my entire living room. It looks hilarious with three measly place settings at the far end. We have to walk past about twenty chairs to get there.
Remington takes his place at the head, and Pearl sits beside him, leaving the place across from her open. I wave Hadley toward the remaining place setting and take the empty seat beside her. Within seconds utensils and expensive china are flying in from behind me, while Hadley stews at the obvious snub.