Oliver offers to drive me back to the hotel, but right now, I prefer walking because it gives me an opportunity to stomp off a little bit of my anger.

Within a few blocks, the anger cools into disappointment.

I’d been excited, in a way, even though Colton had warned me. I’d wanted to make friends with Mary. But I’d never had a chance.

Intentional or not, she invited me there as a freak show—look at the silly American—to show me off for her friends’ judgement and entertainment. I was set up to be the display of the day and expected to sit there like a quiet mouse while they pointed, snickered, and insulted me.

She’d sat there complicit while they talked poorly about Colton leaving the UK, about his not helping the family business, and while they judged him lacking at every turn.

I mean, how could they seriously find fault in Colton, of all people? Sure, he’s not perfect. No one is. But his flaws were not the ones they were blathering about. But Mary’s silence had implied agreement.

And though it makes me mad, it mostly makes me . . . sad. I understand why he spent so long trying to prove himself, but he was set up to fail that mission from the get-go too. He’s the spare. Hard to believe they see it that way, especially having met Eddie, but last night and today prove Colton’s point in a way I never would’ve imagined.

I find myself wandering along a stretch of road lined by a mix of flat-front houses, the garden windows so close to the walk that I could almost touch them. Slowly, the residences give way to small businesses, storefronts with worn signs and displays that tempt me to come inside. For a chocolate, a beer, or a souvenir. I realize I’m getting close to the hotel and think a soak in the huge marble tub to wash away the slimy feeling on my skin from that tea sounds perfect.

Ahead, I see a fluff of hair that looks familiar, though I think I’m imagining things at first. “Lizzie! Lizzie!”

Several heads turn my way at the shout, one of them exactly who I think it is. But Lizzie looks like she wishes she didn’t have to talk to me. Another one of Colton’s family who doesn’t seem to like me. I’d thought Lizzie and I had gotten on okay, though.

I catch up to her and realize there are tear tracks down her cheeks. She’s not trying to avoid me. She’s trying not to be seen like this.

“Oh, my gosh, what’s wrong?” I dig around in my bag, finding a pack of tissues, and mentally thank my dad for teaching me to be a prepared traveler. Nothing like having to get out of your airplane seat to blow your nose when the cabin pressure changes. I’m glad to have them available now as Lizzie takes one, breaking into fresh tears.

“I’m sorry, Elle. I’m fine. Just a bit . . .” The attempt at a lie fades off. She’s clearly not fine, though she’s trying to keep a British-style stiff upper lip.

“Come on, let’s grab something to drink. We can sit down and you can tell me all about it.” I can tell she’s about to say no, so I throw in a bone. “Not like I’ll be here to tell tales, anyway.”

It works. Teenage girls are the same the world over, and I was once one, so I know how they work.

“What do you mean?”

I roll my eyes, knowing it’s a habit she has and will relate to. “Oh, I had tea with your mother and her friends just now. It got ugly. I might’ve hair-flipped out after calling their existence a distasteful waste of time.”

Lizzie’s hands smack over her mouth, but then she pushes at my arm. “You did not!”

I nod. “I did.”

And that’s enough. With a promise to tell her everything, she comes with me to the hotel. We find a cushy couch in an empty corner of the lobby and curl up. “Okay, I told you my day. Now, tell me yours.”

Lizzie bites her lip, and I think she’s not going to at first. But slowly, the story comes out. “Will Blackwire is such an utter dolt. We used to be friends when he first moved in with his grandfather, and Mum always says he has a crush on me. But I don’t give a fuck. There’s a proper way to behave and an improper way. He’s a bully, pure and simple.”

She goes on to tell me about his mouthing at her, increasingly misguided attempts at flirting, for sure, but in crude, rude ways that no girl or woman wants to hear. Never in the history of time has a catcall of ‘Look at that fat arse! Sit it on my face!’ worked, and I don’t know why guys, at any age or any spot on the globe, think it would. Especially when it’s followed up with attempts to grab said arse despite Lizzie’s protests.

“You know what? You’re right. There’s a proper way to behave and an improper. I think you’ve just been choosing the wrong option, just like Will.”

Lizzie looks mad as a hornet—and yes, I hear the American animal idiom even without Colton pointing it out—until I explain exactly what I mean.

Chapter 26

Colton

The day has been productive but absolutely dreadful without Elle here to add a bit of light and fun to the work. But I’ve conferenced with Roger, my London attorney, and Gary, bless his soul, for the middle of the night call, and we’ve worked out most of the details of the trust.

It seems I am correct that Grandfather left the property to a trust in my name. My father has been steward of the trust since I was a boy, but it should be a simple matter to resolve that and take control of the property myself now that I’m of age and in good standing.

Regardless of what he told Eddie, that property is mine. And I will see Fox HQ2 successful there. However, there are many steps until that’s a reality.

Mostly, the licensing and zoning of the land, as Elle mentioned. It will take a council vote to return the land to its previous rights, allowing Fox’s operations, but considering it’s only been decommissioned for fifty years, it shouldn’t be too much of a hassle.

After the long day of work, I decide to reward myself with a drink downstairs in the bar, thinking I can catch Elle as she comes back from tea with Mum.

I hope she wasn’t too hard on her, though I’m not sure if I mean Elle giving Mum a hard time or the reverse. It could go either way. Especially with Mum’s friends. And Elle’s mouth.

In the lobby, I see Elle walking outside, her teal skirt over her lush arse immediately drawing my eye. At first, I’m confused why she’s leaving, but then I see Lizzie at her side, still in her school uniform.

Lizzie should be home by now. After school activities might keep her for a bit, but it’s getting late.

Right before I go over to find out what’s going on, I see Elle place her hands on Lizzie’s shoulders. Face to face, Lizzie nods along with whatever serious business Elle’s saying. It piques my interest, and I don’t interrupt . . . yet.

They walk outside, and I follow a moment later, admittedly a bit stalkerish but hoping curiosity won’t kill the cat. I chuckle to myself at the Americanism and turn the corner after Lizzie and Elle.

In the quick minute it took me to catch up to them, all hell has broken loose. Or it’s on the verge of it, at least, because there’s a snot of a boy standing way too close, almost in Lizzie’s personal space. And she’s a girl who doesn’t have much of one, happily hugging friends. Her school bag is on the ground at her feet and her head is hanging low, giving her a forlorn look.