Page 13 of False God

I turn to Asher. “Thanks again, Asher.”

“Of course, Charles. We’ll talk soon.”

Asher and I shake hands one final time. I say a generic goodbye to the Kensingtons, avoiding looking directly at Lili. I’m irrationally irritated with her, to the point that I have no confident control over my voice. Vexed with myself, too, for not foreseeing she’d pretend not to know me after how our last conversation went. Confused why I give a shit either way.

When I turn in the visitor’s badge at the desk downstairs, the only thing I say to the woman working is, “Have a good rest of your day.”

4

Istare after Charles Marlborough’s retreating back, an unpleasant prickling sensation starting in my stomach and crawling around until the pins and needles spread to my extremities.

What was he doing here?

I want to kick off my heels, sprint down the hallway, corner him by the elevators, and ask. Theaudacity, to insult me and then show up at my family’s company.

I haven’t seen him in a year. Eleven months, to be exact, and I’m annoyed that I can be so accurate. That I even remember it was an August afternoon when we first met and that I was wearing a blue dress, and he had on a navy suit.

Gossip about Britain’s youngest duke visiting the Hamptons made quick rounds around Atlantic Crest Country Club. By sunset, it’d spread about the entire peninsula, becoming the favorite topic at the cocktail party I attended with my grandparents that evening.

While I thought,Who cares that he’s a duke?

Everyonecared, even though I’d thought any love affair with aristocracy ended around the start of the American Revolution.

“Lili? Lili!”

I blink rapidly, refocusing on Asher. “Sorry. I was thinking about … work.”

Asher smiles, then glances at Mom. “Apple sure fell far from you and Crew,” he tells her.

My gaze travels to the windows that boast an impressive view of Manhattan. If I had a dollar for every time someone compared me to my parents, I’d be … richer than I already am.

I’m not justaKensington. I’m the oldest child and only daughter of Crew and Scarlett Kensington. In addition to coming from wealthy, well-connected families, my parents happen to be the most powerful, driven, and successful people I’ve ever met. They turned two kingdoms into a dominant empire, and that’s a lot of legacy to live up to. Unless I cure cancer or broker world peace, the bar is pretty unachievable. And considering I flunked junior-year Biology and more people would categorize me as an instigator than a neutral party, neither of those achievements is likely to ever happen.

“I was asking if I could have Indy get you anything,” Asher says.

“Oh, no. I’m fine, thanks.” I give Asher’s secretary a warm smile, which she returns, then hand Mom the glass bottle of sparkling water I just grabbed for her.

“I wanted a latte, but this is better for me anyway,” Mom explains.

Asher’s forehead furrows. “The machine should be?—”

“What was Charles Marlborough doing here?” I blurt.

The espresso machine in the executive lounge is working fine. But I’ve seen Mom chug two coffees since she and Dad landed a few hours ago, and I’m positive her flawless makeup is hiding dark circles. She needs to stop tackling marathon days like they’re sprints and slow down a little.

Also, I’ve wanted to say that since the second I spotted Charlie. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of asking in front of him, which was one of the reasons I pretended not to know him. Again.

“We were discussing an investment opportunity in London,” Asher says, which essentially tells me nothing. He moves on before I can question him further—What’s the investment opportunity? Are you going to pursue it?—entirely oblivious to my burning curiosity. “Are you ladies stopping by Oliver’s office? I have a file to drop off to him.”

“We are,” Mom replies. “I wanted to invite him and Hannah to dinner tonight, and I was hoping you and Sophie could join us too.”

Asher sighs. “We’d love to, but Millie has her agility class tonight. I told Soph we’re switching back to Saturday mornings as soon as this session ends. But Beckett’s been talking about it all week.”

“Sounds fun,” Mom says, fighting a smile.

Every time we catch up with Asher and his family, they’ve started some new activity. Last visit, it was pottery classes. They’ve since moved on to training their Shetland Sheepdog apparently.

“Oh, yeah. We’re starting competitions in the fall. If any coincide while you’re here on a visit, I’ll let Crew know.”

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