Every new person Connor met assumed he was brilliant like the doctor he’d played. To maintain the illusion, he kept more and more of his thoughts to himself. Public perception was important if he didn’t want to embarrass Viviana again.
Part of him craved the simplicity of his life before the Barringtons. His family had been easier to please, and he’d felt good about himself back then. Nothing he did now brought the same satisfaction as a hard day of manual labor on a construction site followed by downing some beers with his friends.
There was no going back, though.
As his family’s company had grown, it had changed. So had the way his old friends treated him. Relationships that had once been effortless were now . . . complicated. Some accused him of changing too much while others wanted him to suddenly have all the answers.
I don’t have answers.
I’m still just—me.
If anyone understood what it was like to not fit in, it was Bradford. Connor cleared his throat. “This weekend I have a speaking engagement in New Jersey.”
“And?”
“Dylan accepted a role in a movie set in Iceland. He’s already on location.”
Bradford simply held his gaze.
Connor added, “Claire is preoccupied with wedding shit this week.”
Nothing.
Connor swirled his beer in his mug before saying, “I shouldn’t go alone.”
“Because you’re receiving death threats?”
“No. No, nothing like that.”
Bradford frowned. “Then what’s the problem?”
Connor leaned closer and lowered his voice. “It’s too dangerous.”
“What?” Bradford lowered his own voice in a mockery of Connor’s. “I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”
“Speaking at Reemsly Preparatory Academy. It’s a private school. Those people are smart. They’ll ask me questions I won’t know the answers to. I can’t look like an idiot.”
Bradford’s hands fisted on the table. “That’s your emergency? I flew back for this?”
“I didn’t say it was an emergency. I said I had a situation I couldn’t handle on my own.”
A low guttural sound was Bradford’s only response.
Connor continued, “I’m a public figure now. I don’t want to be. My goal was to make enough money so the Barrington staff would stop thinking I’d steal the silverware.”
“I doubt they believe you’d know how to use it.”
“Don’t be a dick. I’m serious.”
“I’m the dick?” Bradford rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Why am I here?”
“I know you won’t judge me, and I need help.”
“Oh, you definitely need help. I’m trying to figure out, though, why you thought I was the one you should call.”
“You’re here, aren’t you?” Connor asked with a shrug.
“I am. Can’t even argue that one.” Bradford chugged the rest of his beer then set it down with a thud. “What do you need, Connor?”
“Advice. How do I get out of this without making Claire look bad or making a fool of myself?”
“You probably can’t unless you let me put you in the hospital,” Bradford joked, even though his tone remained serious.
Connor shook his head. “I’m looking for something less extreme. Plus, I like my face the way it is.”
“Then you’re shit out of luck.” Bradford’s gaze was cold steel dipped in indifference.
Impressively impossible to read.
“I could use that.” All those acting lessons might actually pay off.
“What?”
“Your expression.” Connor sat up straighter. He narrowed his eyes at Bradford.
“Are you fucking with me?”
“No,” Connor assured him as he brought his brows together in a deep frown. “Tell me when I get it right.”
Ada appeared at the table with a pizza and some plates. “Everything okay, Connor?”
Instantly, Connor’s smile returned. “Perfect. Thanks, Ada. Looks great. I’ll have one more beer. What about you, Bradford?”
Bradford’s only response was another of his dark looks.
“He’ll have another too,” Connor said cheerfully.
She was back in a flash with two fresh mugs. Connor thanked her again.
“Your problem is you’re too fucking nice,” Bradford said once she was out of earshot.
“Me? No. Ada and Joel are the nice ones. Dylan and I found this place the first week we were in the city. They made us feel like we were old friends even though nobody knew our names yet. They’re good people.”
“Joel is jumpy because his son hung with a bad crew before they shipped him to Rhode Island to live with Ada’s brother. He’s in college now, but Joel’s had a few run-ins with his old friends. Seems that his son left without settling all his debts.”
Connor’s mouth dropped open. “How do you know that?”
“I make it my job to. The more you know about people the more prepared you are to deal with whatever shit they start.”
“I can’t imagine the Fetters starting shit with anyone.”
“But now if they do, you know where their jugular is.”
Connor mulled that while digging into the pizza. He didn’t agree with how Bradford saw the world, but it also wasn’t the first time Connor had been told he was too nice. No one messed with Bradford. No one apologized for him or said he embarrassed them. Like a character study, Connor decided to borrow a little badass for the school function. “I’m going to say a few things I might be asked. Show me how you’d respond.”
Between taking bites of pizza, Bradford said, “Shoot.”
“What’s the planet that was downgraded to a dwarf?”
“No one is going to ask you that.”
“It’s just an example. I know there was a planet that was. I can’t remember the name of it. There’s a lot of stuff I don’t know. What do you do when people ask you a question you can’t answer?”
After downing some of his beer, Bradford sat back and tapped his fingers on the table before saying, “Do you see the irony of someone like you speaking at a preparatory school?”
Connor smile dimmed. “Claire set it up for me. The drama department requested my visit.”
“You are quite possibly the least intelligent person I’ve ever met.”
Connor frowned. “Hey, if you don’t want to help me, just say it.”
“What’s your actual IQ? Can you tell me or is that another term you don’t know?”
Sitting up straighter, Connor leaned forward. “Fuck you.”
“Don’t say it out loud. Think it.”
Fuck you, Connor thought before it sank in that Bradford was deliberately goading him to help him and his smile returned. “Got it. Think badass. Less is more.”
“If you’re outgunned in a battle, you’ve got only two choices . . . run like hell, or keep them guessing what you’ll do. In a conversation, silence makes people uncomfortable. Use it to your advantage. Given enough time, smart people talk themselves into sounding stupid, and assholes give up because they prefer easy marks.”