Page 16 of Code Name: Michelangelo

Conveniently, he and Blair were seated at a four-top, so when Brand pulled out the chair beside her for me, I took it.

“So, Daddy, I’m surprised you didn’t mention Blair and I already knew each other.”

“Blair?” he asked, looking from me to her.

When she nodded and attempted a smile, I thought for sure she was considering rushing to the restroom or maybe even out of the restaurant.

“We were at the Emma Stanley Academy together.” I studied her face. The amount of plastic surgery she’d had was apparent. “I guess we’ve both changed a lot since then, but I still recognize you.”

Blair pulled herself together. “Your father never mentioned you to me, either. What a coincidence this is.”

My eyes met Brand’s, then I looked at my dad. It was equally apparent he had mentioned me.

Knowing I couldn’t stomach much more of him or her, I got right to the point. “So, I understand you have some ideas for my place on Fire Island.”

“Pen, we talked about this. I told you I had only been thinking about giving it to you. It still belongs to me, and whatever I choose to do with it is my decision.”

“Actually, it isn’t.”

My father wadded his napkin and tossed it on the table. “This isn’t the time or place for you to act out, Penelope. We’ll discuss this later, in private.”

Brand cleared his throat. “Hi, um, Blair, is it?”

“I go by Hailey now.”

He turned to my father almost as if he hadn’t heard her. “Good to see you again, Harold.”

“Who are you?”

“Dad!” I feigned a gasp. “Surely, you remember Brando Ripa.”

“Ripa? Why does that name sound familiar?”

“I’m Tara Clarkson’s half brother. I haven’t been around much lately. I’ve been in prison.” He glanced at Blair and smiled.

“What is this all about?” my father spat.

“Go ahead, Brand. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Harold, a few minutes ago, you said the place on Fire Island belongs to you. Actually, it doesn’t.”

“This is preposterous.” My father stood. “Come on, Hailey. Let’s get out of here.”

Brand continued talking as if my dad hadn’t said a word. “The property located at 1 Atlantic Walk in Patchogue, New York, will be held in trust for our granddaughter, Penelope Ramsey, by her father, Harold Ramsey, until such time as she reaches the age of twenty-five when the deed will automatically transfer to her.”

I folded my arms and looked at my father’s girlfriend. “So, as I said, it belongs to me. What were the ideas you had? Something about fixing it up and flipping it?”

“You always were a bitch,” Blair seethed before standing and attempting to take my father’s hand. However, he pulled away from her.

I looked her up and down. “At least I have all my original body parts. Looks like you’ve done a little fixing up yourself.”

“Penelope, I’m taking Hailey home. You and I will discuss this tomorrow.”

I shook my head. “We’re leaving tonight, Dad, and from what Brand read to you, it doesn’t appear there’s anything for us to talk about.” I looked at Blair a second time. “I’d say it was nice to see you, but it hasn’t been. I’ve no doubt you feel the same way.”

I remained seated, as did Brand, until they left. Seconds later, the waiter approached the table.

“Would you care to order anything while you wait for the rest of your party to return?”

---