He blinks, disappointment showing in the lines around his lips as they press together. But he stands, pulling on the lapels of his jacket. “Very well. I won’t say it’s good to have you home. In fact, please go back to the States as quickly as possible. Let us true Wolfes pretend this never happened.”

He says this as though he means me.

I swallow thickly, only my love for Nan holding my tongue. Father brushes past me, walking out the door with a straight back, showing only satisfaction in his belief that he was right about me all along.

Eddie swallows the three fingers of whiskey in one gulp, slamming the tumbler to the table with a loud, “Ahh.” He purposefully bumps me as he walks by. “Bye, Coltie!”

Schoolyard taunts of years past paint his tone, as if not a single day has gone by. For him, perhaps they haven’t. He’s still the juvenile bully he’s always been. Last but not least, Mr. Hamish walks by. He has the manners to look chagrined . . . at my behavior? At my father’s? At Eddie’s? It matters not.

Once they’re gone, I close the door and call out, “They’re gone.”

Nan and Elle open the bedroom door slowly. Nan comes over to me straight away, patting my cheek a bit too hard. “Well done, Coltie. Now, I’m off. But remember, I was never here.”

She opens the door before I can ask any questions, looking left and then right. She sneaks out to the left, opposite of the way Dad’s entourage went, on her tiptoes with her shoulders scrunched down. As if that would do anything to hide her. She’s wearing a crisp black pantsuit, black hat, and sunglasses, for fuck’s sake. She’s like a picture-perfect version of a rich old lady other than the cat burglar posturing.

Elle shrugs when I turn back to her. “She didn’t say anything, was leaned up to listen at the door with a glass. Which she dropped, on the rug, thankfully. Did you know that Nan curses like a sailor? At least, I think she was. It was a lot of mumbling, but I’m pretty sure I caught the gist.”

I smile, but there’s no happiness to it. Not even Nan’s antics can cheer me up now.

“What are we going to do?” Elle asks. “We have tickets to fly out tomorrow, but I can move them up if you want to get out of here? Do you think we can get out of the country?”

I roll my eyes, an approximation of Lizzie’s habit, which makes me miss her already. “They won’t hold us here. We’re not captives. But yes, let’s go back to the States.”

I don’t say home, though I suppose that’s true. But in just the short time of this extended week, London had truly started to feel like home again. And I’m running away from home . . . again.

Chapter 31

Elle

“Come to Tiffany, honey.” She holds her arms out, and if I had the energy, I’d run to her. But I don’t, not after the long flight where a flight attendant asked Colton and me to sign her latest edition of some rag tabloid. So I shuffle across my living room, dropping the handle of my suitcase as I go, and fall onto the couch, where she wraps me up in her arms.

“I’m so sorry, Elle. So sorry.” She pats my head, motherly-like as if I’m a little girl, and though I know I should chafe at that, it feels too comforting to complain. “Where’s Colton?”

I sniffle a bit, fighting back tears even though I feel like they should be totally drained dry by now. “He went home, said he had some work to do. I could’ve gone with him, but I just needed a moment.”

“Yeah, sure. That makes sense. You two are okay though, right? I mean, you were talking serious stuff about him. This didn’t change that?” She sounds hesitant to even ask, like I’m a fragile bomb about to detonate in her hands.

I nod. “We’re fine. I love him, he loves me. I’m just embarrassed. He’s angry. His dad screwed him over on the property. The whole project is done for. Hell, I don’t even know if he’ll be able to live there if he wanted to.”

Tiffany’s mouth falls open. “Shit, that’s a messed-up family. You’d think they’d want him home. A major VP, bringing his kajillion-dollar company along for the dog and pony show.”

I bite my lip, not wanting to break Colton’s trust. “It’s not like that. I don’t want to spill his tea, but it’s . . . his family’s not like that.”

Thankfully, Tiffany doesn’t push the matter further. “You know what you need?”

“A time machine so I can go back and not get photographed getting eaten out in front of royals?”

Her laugh stings, even though I’m the one making jokes about it. “Can I say I love that you didn’t say you wanted a time machine to go back and not get eaten out, but just to not do in front of the royals? That’s good thinking there, girl. Real specific to the actual problem.”

She taps her temple and winks at me in praise. “And probably means that Colton’s tongue is just as good as his BBC. But no, I was going to say ice cream. I bought some for you when you said you were coming home.”

She gets up, letting me fall flat on the couch when she’s no longer supporting my leaning position. Sophie takes advantage, jumping onto my chest and bumping me with her tiny pink nose. I scratch behind her ears, burying my face into her fur.

Tiffany reappears with a pint of ice cream and two spoons. “No! Don’t do that to her!”

I snort and do it again to be bitchy. “She’s my fur-baby. Get your own.”

Okay, so maybe I’m still a bit salty about how much I missed Sophie while she was loving on Tiffany as though I never existed.

Tiffany laughs. “No, I’m not being stingy with her. That damned monster got into my bag and found my shimmer powder. She somehow dumped it on the floor and then rolled around in it like a pig in mud. I had to vacuum it up and give her a bath, but she’s still pretty . . . uh, shiny.”

Tiffany points at my face with one of the spoons.

“Do I have it all over me?” Her grin is a definite yes. “You gave my cat a bath? How badly did she hate that?”

Tiffany tilts her head. “Surprisingly, not so much. At first, she was a demon, clawing and hissing. But once I got her submerged and waterboarded a little, she was fine and dandy. She tried swimming around in the tub, and I think by the end, she thought it was like a kitty spa.”

I try to imagine that, but can’t. I also don’t care enough about shimmer powder on my face to actually wipe it off. But I definitely grab a spoon and commandeer the pint of ice cream for myself.

I pull the lid off and slide my spoon across the top layer where it’s a little melty. That’s the best part, and Tiff’s letting me have it without a word. Goes to show how bad she thinks all this is too.

Mouth full, I tell her, “I don’t want to talk about me anymore. What’s going on with you? At the office? With Ace? Distract me.”

Her wry brow says, ‘Are you not entertained?’ but she does catch me up on what’s been going on at work, which is mostly the same things that were going on before I left. Ricky is flirting with Miranda on the daily now, but they haven’t had an official date. The phone rings, copies get made, and there’s been plenty of chatter about the HQ2 sites.