Page 132 of Wicked Serve

“Thank you, sir,” she says. “They speak highly of you.”

“Isabelle has a wonderful eye for wedding design,” Mom chimes in. “You should see the work she’s putting in for her brother’s wedding—I’m so glad it’s getting an exclusive in People.”

“People?” Grandfather says, his brows lifting. “Why a gossip rag like that?”

“Grandfather,” I start.

But Isabelle doesn’t even flinch as she says, “My brother has become one of the most recognizable faces in the NFL. If you care about sports, you know that players like him are celebrities with fan bases that want to hear about their lives beyond their play on the field.”

If Grandfather notices the slight dig at him, he doesn’t show it. He does, however, look at her with something akin to approval. “You seem like a suitable match for Nicholas.”

She blinks. “Nicholas?”

“Why don’t you tell Mom about Australia?” I say quickly.

“Oh, yes please,” Mom says. “How was it?”

Isabelle throws me a look, but she just says, “So much fun. I have pictures, let me show you.”

As she scrolls through her phone, Mom and Cricket exclaiming over the pictures, Grandfather pins me with his gaze. “No trouble with the jet, I presume?”

I shake my head. “Thank you again for letting us borrow it.”

“It’ll become commonplace for you soon enough,” he says, gesturing across the room to another group of guests. “I have a development project happening in Dubai right now that I think would be the perfect introduction, once you begin with the company.”

“Dubai?”

“You’d only be out there a few months at most.”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Isabelle frown. I don’t blame her. California would have been one thing; Dubai is another entirely.

“I assumed I would be based here in New York with you.”

“This project is fascinating. Come, let me introduce you to a few people.”

He marches me across the room for a round of introductions and conversation I can barely follow, not that I’m interested in the first place. I resist more champagne, but ask a server to bring me a seltzer, and sip on it while I watch Isabelle command her side of the room with Mom and Cricket.

When we finally, finally sit down for dinner, she ends up next to me. I sigh with relief as she purses her lips, studying me.

“You okay?” she murmurs. “You looked miserable.”

“Just bored.” I lean in to catch the scent of her perfume. My hand settles on her leg, squeezing lightly. “I’m not going to Dubai.”

“He called you Nicholas.”

“I know.”

“What the actual—” She stops herself with a smile as a server pours the wine. “And he called People a gossip rag.”

“If I could have your attention for a moment,” Grandfather says from the head of the table, standing with his glass in hand. “I’m thrilled that my grandson is with us tonight, and so pleased to say that he’s following in my footsteps when he graduates later this year.”

He raises his glass to me, and everyone else follows suit. Before I can reply to the toast—saying what, I have no idea—my phone buzzes in my pocket. I can’t help but sneak a glance at it.

My pulse quickens as I take in the San Jose area code.

Chapter 62

Izzy

---