Page 129 of False God

He chuckles again before disappearing into the crowd.

Dad kisses my cheek. “You look beautiful, honey. Speech starts in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” I reply before he disappears back into the crowd.

I continue toward the bar that was my original destination, playing with the diamond bracelet on my wrist that belonged to Dad’s mom.

Cal is leaning one elbow beside the display of wines for guests to choose from, waiting for the bartender to finish mixing his drink. I order, then stop beside him.

He smirks. “Having fun?”

“Sort of. You?”

“This is the highlight of my summer, Kensington.”

I roll my eyes. “How sad for you.”

“Tripp said you got an exciting offer in Ireland. Congrats.”

“They haven’t formally offered me the position yet. But thanks.” It’ll be embarrassing if I don’t get it, considering the number of people already congratulating me on it. I take my drink from the bartender. “How’ve you been?”

He slides a glance my way, like he’s checking to see if I’m asking about what he thinks I’m asking about. Nods. “I broke up with Violet.”

“Yeah. I … heard.”

Fran told me when we had brunch a few days ago.

Cal nods. “I figured you had.”

“Do you … want to talk about it?”

He exhales. “I liked Violet. But I started dating her to make myself move on from you. And turns out … that isn’t exactly the most solid basis for a relationship, so …”

“Sorry,” I say. Not sure exactly what I’m apologizing for but feeling like I owe him one anyway.

“Don’t be. You were right about us. Right that we weren’t right for each other, I mean. Seeing you with Charlie … you never acted that way with me.”

My stomach roils at the sound of his name. I chug a healthy amount of my drink to force it to settle.

Cal lifts both eyebrows, silently questioning my sanity.

“He’s here,” I explain. “For some fucking reason.”

“Uh, for you?”

I scoff. “Not bloody likely.”

“You sound British,” Cal comments.

I glare at him. “Whose friendareyou?”

He lifts both hands in a peace-making gesture. “Yours. Just saying … that’s my guess. Why else would he come all this way?”

“Work?” I suggest.

I’m still not clear what the job description for a duke is, but it seems to take up a lot of his time. And Charlie had a meeting at Kensington Consolidated the last time he was in New York. He’s somewhat connected to this business world.

I swallow another sip of Kensington Sour, avoiding looking toward the doors.

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