“You helped them paint?” Halle asks, studying me for reasons unknown. Maybe I’m not as good at hiding my reaction to his name as I thought. Her gaze falls to my fingers and I realize I’m tapping. Shit. I stop instantly because Halle knows what that is. They all do, she just happens to be more perceptive than Margot or Aria.
“Yes. I am capable of using my hands for more than saving lives and applying Oscar-worthy makeup.”
“Yeah…” She tilts her head. “But you’re like… are you feeling okay? You’re blushing, Rina and you never blush.”
“I’m not blushing.”
Now Margot’s in on it. “Actually, I think you might be. You started when Aria thanked you. Not that I can blame. I mean, hello, have you seen Brecken Davenport?”
“You sound like Josh,” Aria chastises before turning on me. “You look more sick than red. Kinda green actually. You feeling okay?”
Yup. Perfect. Fucking awesome. “Just a lot going on.”
And that ain’t no lie, kid.
A lot going on just became my new middle name instead of Penderhause, which don’t ask, because it’s like my great-great-great grandmother’s maiden name or something. It comes in handy though when you’re trying to fly under the radar and stay away from your ex-boyfriend-turned-stalker’s family.
Well, until now obviously.
That brings up a whole other slew of shit in my head and right now, it’s all just a bit too much. Why did Brecken have to be Aria’s brother? Why did she have to warn us off him? Because some no-strings, dirty, HOT sex? Yeah, I could seriously go for that right now. And Brecken is safe. I feel safe with him. In a way I can’t remember feeling safe with anyone.
“You sure?” Aria presses. “You don’t look—oh, food. Yes, I’m starving.”
And thank god for food, right? And distractible artists.
But that doesn’t stop Halle… No. Not one bit. She’s scrutinizing the hell out of me with her discerning blue eyes. Then she smirks knowingly at me before accepting her plate and returning the conversation to Jonah’s birthday. But she’s onto me and my stupid useless crush—I mean attraction. I just know she is. And that’s not even the worst of it. I still have my brothers to deal with today.
“A hundred million dollars, Rina!” Kaplan yells, and I slam my head down on the table, rattling plates and drinks. Ugh. I knew he was going to react like this when I told him the number. It really wasn’t something I wanted to do over the phone. I don’t even know why, because it would have been easier. I think I just wanted to see my brothers, but now it’s like that old adage: careful what you wish for.
“Maybe yell it a little louder, Kap. I’m not sure everyone over there in the right-field roof seats heard you.”
“I don’t give a fuck if they heard me, Rina. You shouldn’t have called the motherfucker in the first place.”
“Language,” Landon admonishes sharply, glancing over his shoulder in my niece, his daughter, Stella’s direction. She’s not even paying attention. Her face is too deep into Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire to care about what anyone has to say. I’m jealous. That’s one of my favorites in the series.
“She’s fine,” Luca says. “Watch this. Stella?” he calls out and she doesn’t respond. “Stella!” Still no answer. “See. She’s straight. I gave her my AirPods so she wouldn’t hear us talking.”
I groan. It’s a rare occasion that we all have the day off together. But today is Yom Kippur and out of respect for this high holy day for Jewish people, much of this city is closed including schools and doctors’ offices. Those of us who work at the hospital scrambled at my request, so that we all have this random Wednesday off. One thing we learned through my experience is that we do things as a family because nothing is more important.
Still, sometimes being the youngest, the only female, in a group of overprotective alpha men sucks.
“Did you know I’m twenty-six, Kap? That makes me a full-grown woman and all that.”
“Don’t start with that, baby sister. I’m like a hundred and fifty years older than your tiny ass and you know I’m not wrong. There was nothing good to come from calling him back by yourself. You should have consulted our lawyer first.”
“You may be a hundred and fifty years older than me, but that’s obviously in dog years since you only look about sixteen.”
He gives me an unamused glare—even though it’s true, Kaplan has a total baby face—still harping on me for taking matters into my own hands.
He has a point on that. But I was tired of feeling afraid of Mr. Bishop. I refuse to show fear at the hands of someone else again. Ever. I may count things in my drawers. I may lock my house up and check my cameras four times each. I may do random things like spout trivia facts or count my steps or tap in rhythmic patterns.
But no man will ever control or dictate how I live my life again.
And that includes our family lawyers and my brothers.
“Is he done yet?” I ask the rest of my brothers who all decided today was the day to drag Rina to our luxury box at Fenway Park to watch the Sox while we had our little powwow. Okay, I’m not exactly complaining about that. Especially since we’re still fighting for our wild card spot and we have like two more games to do it in. That and it might also be my fault that all my brothers and poor Stella—who does not like sports at all—are here because when I called Kap the other morning to tell him I had ‘inherited’ money from Harrison and that I want to funnel it to the foundation charities, he said we needed a family meeting about it. With my parents overseas, Kaplan is officially in charge of the foundation. Something I think he both loves and hates about being an Abbot-Fritz.
“I’m done,” he says, softening his voice and dropping into the seat beside me. He tosses his large, heavy arm over my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I just hate all this. You shouldn’t have to go through this anymore, Rina. It should have been over and done with six years ago. Hell, it should have never happened in the first place.”
“It wasn’t exactly batting practice for me either,” I grumble, sitting up and taking a bite of my sausage because it’s way too good to waste on my brother’s foul mood. Clearly, I’m eating my feelings today because at brunch with the girls, I finished off my omelet in record time. “Look. It’s done. I called him because I needed to do it myself. I was not about to hide behind a lawyer for that. But now that it’s done, I’ll contact the foundation’s attorneys tomorrow and we can get the paperwork rolling for the money. I wanted to talk to you guys first. With any luck, I’ll never have to deal with Bishop again.”
“You should have at least let me be there the way we talked about,” Oliver says. “I don’t trust him. Did he say what was in the letter?”
“No. Just that he held on to it because I don’t deserve anything ‘special’ from Harrison.” I put air quotes around the word.
“Special!” Oliver chokes. “Is he fucking high? He’s trying to hurt you, Rina. There can be no other reason for this. For trying to blatantly torture and frighten you.” He scoffs indignantly. “I guess the apple didn’t fall far, did it?” I throw him an eyebrow for that and he huffs out a breath, trying to rein himself in. “Do you truly think he’s going to let that kind of money go so easily?” He leans back in his seat with his feet propped up on the small partition between the glass and the outdoor seats. I know he’s itching to go out there and sit to watch the game, but we never discuss family business out in the open.