Page 58 of Broken Princess

The woman is talking, but I barely hear her. My attention is on Jordanna. She looks poised but I know her tells. She’s playing with a chain around her neck which means she’s nervous and her eyes keep shifting to the front door. I understand her hesitancy to be here. A few of the guests were at the auction. But none of them will say anything to her. I’ve got pictures, videos, and unpublished articles of them or their family members doing much worse.

It’s an hour later when I finally catch a break. Walking up to Jordanna, I say, “They’ll start serving soon. Did you find your seat?”

“I’m not a guest. I don’t have a seat.”

“We feed our photographers and newspaper staff.”

She scribbles something in the book she’s holding before tucking it back in her bag. “I’m not that hungry. I’ll just eat when I get back to campus.”

Drew is already at a table. He doesn’t seem to have any problem with taking a break for sustenance, and I’m not gonna let her go all day without eating. Slipping the camera off her shoulder, I press my hand against her back, moving her towards our table overlooking the golf course. I pull out the chair next to me, not bothering to check whose name card is on it, and remove my jacket, rolling the sleeves of my shirt up to my forearms. Reaching over, I open her menu, and say, “Order anything you want. I mean it, the food here is amazing.”

“You’re not going to order for me?”

“Why would I?”

“Because I hear that’s what controlling billionaires like to do.”

If she’s being sarcastic, that means she’s settling in. “I can make suggestions, but I’d rather you order for yourself, so in the off chance that you don’t like it, you can’t blame me.” Leaning closer, I whisper, “I’ve already got enough to overcome to get you to trust me again.”

“Son?” I stand as my dad and Simon’s parents approach the table. Momentarily forgetting whatever he was going to say, he takes in Jordanna with a sweeping arch of his brow, before he breaks out his party smile. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

“Dad, this is Jordanna Felding.”

Now, he’s looking at her, the way he looks at writers when they pitch ideas to him. As if he’s trying to decide if there’s a story worth pursing. “Ah. Yes, the scholarship student.”

Her back stiffens and her chin juts up. “There’s a lot more to me than just the negative zeros in my bank account, Mr. McKay.”

If my dad’s surprised by her response, he doesn’t show it. He rounds the table and takes his seat. I sit back in mine.

“I agree.” He says. “The article you wrote on the correlation between digital currency and cyber security was informative, and your term paper on ancient women in philosophy was thought provoking. It’s refreshing to see you dove into history books and scrolls for the real story, instead of relying on Wikipedia or the internet the way so many people do today.”

Wait. How the hell does he know about her articles and research papers? She wrote those before she came to VDU.

“As you well know, Mr. McKay, Wikipedia isn’t a reliable research tool. I can post anything I want on those pages. Besides, old papers and moldy books, have the unvarnished truth attached to them. Facts that often get lost or buried with each new edition of a textbook orragmagazine.”

Dad’s lips twitch. No one calls The Star Gazette a rag magazine, even if they think it is. “As a businessman I have to think about more than one way to pay the bills. The articles published in The Star will never win a Nobel prize, but they generate lots of ad revenue. If you want more grit on a National Geographic level, read The Daily Scroll.”

“I used to until…”

“Until?”

“Until we moved to Kingsley Bluffs. School incidentals were more important than renewing my subscription, to your paper.”

Nodding, he asks, “You have Wynn for Interpersonal Communications?”

“I do.”

“Then I look forward to reading your paper on inter human conflict and the shaping of the world.” Turning to the server, he tells him to bring over another chair and set a place. “I hope you don’t mind holding off on ordering until everyone else arrives.” Looking towards the door, his lips stretch into a smile. “Ah, here they are now.”

I shift in my seat, stifling a groan. Now I know whose seat I’ve given away. Thank fuck.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper right before the guests reach the table. Ever the dutiful host, I introduce my cousins Gina and Aiden and his girlfriend Claire. Then I order a drink for Jordanna and myself. We're gonna need it.

Gina’s asking Jordy the usual questions about her family. Her voice is strong, yet subdued when she says, “My father passed away when I was fourteen. My mother’s an interior decorator, and my-”

"That's how I know you." Gina says, cutting her off, and punctuating her comment with a handclap. “You’re Penn Waldorf’s daughter.”

“Step-daughter.” Jordanna responds through clenched teeth. This is the first time I’ve seen her express such disdain for someone other than me. And even the dose I get is mild compared to the way she ground out those words and her body is vibrating.

---