Page 165 of False God

My throat is thick with emotion, and he has to clear his before saying, “It’s been a good trip?”

“Yeah. I’m only here for one more day. My last interview is in DC on Friday. For the museum project. Then, I’ll have to make a decision.”

And not just about my job.

“I had a meeting with Curtis Brentwood the other day. He lives in Chicago and was raving about Claremont Park.”

“He was not.”

“I swear. Said he takes his son there all the time. And either he should be an actor instead of an investment banker or he had no idea you’d designed it because he seemed shocked when I told him.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah, I thought so too.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Also, your mom and I are going to an animal shelter when she gets back.”

“You’re really getting another dog?” I figured it would fall by the wayside with my parents’ busy schedules.

“That’s the plan,” he tells me. “We spent so long getting you kids self-sufficient, but turns out, we kind of miss having someone to take care of.”

“I’m glad for you guys,” I say. “This new phase, it seems good.”

“I agree. And I’ll let you get back to your trip. I just wanted to check in.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I’ll see you when you get back to New York?”

“Yeah, you will. I want to meet my new sibling.”

He laughs. “Is Hallsen Vet accepting new cli?—”

“Dad. Mom already asked, and it’snotfunny.”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound the least bit sorry. “Have a good rest of your trip, honey. Love you.”

“Love you too,” I reply, then hang up.

I enjoy the sun’s warmth for a few more minutes.

Then, I stand and head toward the corner where I’m supposed to meet Charlie.

39

Louis Haywood is alternating between puffing a cigar and sipping scotch when I walk into the private room he reserved at The Ivy House. It’s not even noon.

I take the rounded leather seat opposite him, fighting the urge to cough as smoke swirls around.

The Ivy House is one of the oldest gentlemen’s clubs in London. It has an exclusive membership list that’s historically included prime ministers and members of Parliament and the royal family.

My father spent a lot of time here, but I’ve never seen much of the appeal. I’d rather relax in a pub or canter across the countryside. But it’s where Louis suggested meeting, and I’m grateful to him for being one of the few people who’s bothered to really see how I am rather than just offering condolences.

“Morning, Louis.”

He smiles, appraising my appearance. “You’re looking well, Charles.”

I’m in a suit because of the garden party I promised Gran I would attend later.

But I think he means something else. At this point, I’m just waiting on the final paperwork for the deal. Once that’s signed by both parties, funds will be released. I’m close—so close—to everything getting resolved.

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