Page 97 of False God

Mom laughs. “We don’t have time to visit all the homes we already have, honey.”

“Where are you? It’s loud.”

“JFK. I’m supposed to speak at a Future CEO conference in Miami tomorrow morning. They just delayed the flight by an hour.”

“How long are you staying in Miami for?” I ask.

“Hang on one second. Crew!”

A few seconds later, I hear my dad’s muffled voice.

“That was a prime spot by the windows,” he says.

“We’re about to sit for the next three hours,” Mom replies. “I wanted to walk around. I’m talking to Lili.”

“Hi, sweetheart!” Dad’s voice is louder now, like he’s right by the speaker.

“Hi, Dad,” I respond, smiling even though he can’t see.

“Did you seriously buy a copy ofHaute?” Mom asks, sounding amused.

“Of course. How else am I supposed to find out summer’s top swimsuit styles, Red?”

“Go read it by the windows,” she tells him. “I’ll be over in a little bit.”

“Okay,” he says cheerfully. “Bye, Lili!”

“Bye, Dad.”

“Sorry, sweetie. What were you—oh, right. We’re only staying for two nights. I have the conference in the morning, and your dad is attending some meetings. Then, we’re going to a fundraiser for the children’s hospital.”

“That sounds nice. Have you guys decided when you’re heading back to LA yet?”

“Not yet. I’ll keep you posted. I’ve been helping Hannah with the planning for the Kensington Consolidated gala, so we won’t be missing that this year.”

“Good. It was strange without you and Dad last year.”

Neither of my parents works at Kensington Consolidated, but they’re who most people associate the company with. The king and queen of New York society, even though they’ve primarily resided in Los Angeles for the past twenty-three years.

“What have you been doing in Saint-Tropez?” Mom asks.

I fill her in on the past few days—boating and swimming and eating, basically. She laughs when I tell her about the group dance we finally got to perform for Chloe and Theo last night. We say our goodbyes a few minutes later.

I hang up, check my appearance one last time in the mirror, then head down the hallway.

An open doorway makes me pause. Charlie’s bag—the one he had at Chloe’s wedding—is sitting on the floor just inside one of the empty guest rooms. Chloe or Theo must have shown him where to stay when I was in the shower.

His bag is unzipped, a familiar cover snagging my gaze.

After a furtive glance around, I tiptoe inside for a closer peek.

My breathing stalls as I focus on the letters on the cover, trying not to lose patience with myself as I squint at them, ascertaining if they say what I think they say.

They do.

It’sMiddlemarch.

My next inhale is a little unsteady. I continue staring for a few more seconds, and then head back into the hallway.

---