Page 27 of False God

“It was last minute,” Hannah explains. “Oliver had a work trip get canceled, so we decided to come for the holiday weekend. Didn’t want to miss the Red, White, and Blue party.”

“Of coursenot.” Katherine rapidly nods in agreement. “Is the whole family here?”

“Yes,” Hannah confirms. Then glances at my mother and holds out a hand—a gesture that makes Georgia immediately perk up. Whoever this woman is, she’s a person my mother cares about impressing. “I’m Hannah Kensington. It’s nice to meet you.”

My drifting attention moors as soon as Hannah’s last name registers. I should have assumed she was a Kensington based on who all she arrived with. She must be married to Oliver Kensington, Lili’s uncle and the current CEO of Kensington Consolidated.

“Georgia Marlborough-Barclay,” my mom replies sweetly.

I’ve never asked why she kept my father’s last name after their divorce and following her second marriage. Mostly because I’d like to think it was Georgia’s way of not turning her back on me and Blythe entirely, not that the Marlborough name carries weight in certain circles.

“And this is my son, Charles Marlborough.”

I shake Hannah’s hand as Georgia introduces me, wondering if I’m imagining the way Lili’s aunt pays closer attention to me than she did to Katherine or my mother. Maybe Asher Cotes mentioned my name. The way Lili made it sound at the restaurant last night, he’s practically part of the Kensington family.

“Nice to meet you, Charles,” Hannah says.

“You too,” I respond.

Hannah gets called over to another group of women a minute later. I spot Ellis and excuse myself as well, strolling over to where he’s slouched next to the bar.

“Wassup, Duke?” my cousin greets me with a tilt of his full glass and a familiar smirk—I’m not sure if it’s familiar because he’s drunk or because we’ve spent more time together the past few days than in our entire lives combined.

“Not much.”

I order a water from the bartender, ignoring Ellis’s exaggerated eye roll.

“Doubt that’ll help,” he mutters.

It’s a little cooler by the bar, the green-and-white-striped awning shading the twenty or so feet of patio closest to the building. I sip my water and stare straight ahead, past the patio. Tennis courts are visible to the left, and the polo field is located on the right. Beyond all the manicured grass, the vivid blue of the ocean fades gradually into the sky’s lighter horizon.

“Are you gentlemen enjoying yourselves?”

I stiffen involuntarily as soon as I hear Derek’s voice. Georgia’s husband—technically my stepfather—has never been anything except perfectly pleasant toward me. He’s jovial yet quiet, usually nodding along agreeably to whatever my mother says. I don’t know what Georgia has shared with Derek about her past, how she explained my existence or our estrangement. All Iknow is, it’s strange, seeing my mother with a man who’s not my father. He’s a reminder I’m not as over the past as I’d like to be.

“Course,” Ellis answers. “I fucking love this place.”

Derek appears unfazed by my cousin’s profanity. Or just very used to it. Ellis seems to spend a lot of time with him and Georgia. His mother moved to Philadelphia, and his sister goes to college somewhere in the South. And, as I learned a few days ago, his dad isn’t around.

Expectantly, Derek looks at me next.

My grip tightens on the condensation-covered glass I’m holding. “It’s very nice,” I tell him. Then add, “Thank you for the invitation,” because Derek’s attention is still aimed at me and my father drilled what he deemedgentlemanlyconduct into me.

This might be the one instance he would have made an exception for though.

“No invitation necessary,” is Derek’s response. “You’re family.”

The sentiment is … thoughtful, I suppose. Generous even. But his matter-of-fact delivery is almost comedic. The people I consider family are all on the other side of the ocean I was just staring at.

Thankfully, Derek gets drawn into a different conversation before I have to conjure a reply.

“You doing all right?” I ask Ellis, who’s plowing through the contents of his glass. It’s half full now.

“Fucking fantastic.” Ellis nods to the left. “Open bar. And hot, rich girls everywhere.”

He flashes a smile at a redhead passing by. She giggles and flips her hair.

I roll my eyes, but my cousin is still focused on the redhead and misses it.

---