Page 47 of Broken King

Shaking her head, she sniffles and gives me a big smile. “No, not at all. I’m just so happy to see you excited about something.”

“It’s only lunch.”

“I know. I know. It’s just that you haven’t been like the old you in a long time. It’s good to see this Ronan again. I missed him.”

The last thing I want is to make her cry for real, so I merely shrug and say, “So what do you think we should have tomorrow?”

Nothing gets Eleanor more excited than planning out a great meal, so she shakes off all her emotion and sets her jaw. “Hmmm. Let me think. We could do shrimp kabobs with rice and a salad. Oh, I can make a wonderful chocolate cake for dessert. I saw a recipe the other day that sounded delicious! How does that sound?”

I have to admit it sounds great. Leave it to Eleanor to make a simple lunch sound like a grand meal.

A playful sparkle fills her eyes, and she asks, “So will it be just you and Kate? Where are you planning to have lunch? If it’s just going to be the two of you, then you’re going to want it to be somewhere other than right here or out near the pool. There’s no peace and quiet in either of those spots.”

She’s right. Ava and the boys spend every day outside, and when they aren’t out there, they’re right where I’m sitting. Not exactly the kind of vibe I’m going for with this lunch.

“What about asking Matthias if you can use the carriage house? I know he’s changed it to his studio, but there’s still a kitchen there and the backyard of that house has that adorable little patio. I know it’s been spruced up recently because the gardener was complaining that we shouldn’t let it go so longbetween cleanings. That might be a perfect spot, and it will ensure you aren’t bothered by any of us.”

The way she says that makes me feel like I’ve been mistreating everyone in this house. “You guys don’t bother me.”

She tilts her head and stares at me for a long moment, like she can see right through me. I did just blow up on my entire family the other day about leaving me alone.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Ronan, and having me or Ava and the boys or Sabrina march through your lunch isn’t your goal. And now that Marius is here, there’s another chance you’ll be interrupted. What do you say? Ask Matthias this afternoon. I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

After our last few interactions, I’ll be surprised if my brother doesn’t tell me to go fuck myself and my lunch plans. He’d have every right to tell me to go stick one of those shrimp kabobs straight up my ass.

I smile like I’m going to do exactly as she’s suggesting, but I see by her expression she knows I’m not. “Ronan, I know you and Matthias haven’t been the best of friends lately, but he loves you. You’re his baby brother. He would do anything to help you find happiness. So ask him. Go right now. I know he’s in his office.”

“Then he’s probably busy with work,” I say, not budging.

Eleanor screws her face into a grimace and stands up from the table. Pointing in the direction of my brother’s office, she says in her sternest voice, “Ronan, go talk to your brother. You don’t want this lunch to go badly, do you?”

She always knows exactly what to say to make me do as she thinks I should.

“Okay. I’m going. Wish me luck,” I mumble as I stand from the table.

“You won’t need luck. Now go.”

I can only hope she’s right. She hasn’t been around when we’ve had our disagreements lately. Love me or not, if he decided to kick me out of his house, nobody would blame him.

By the time I reach his office, I’ve convinced myself he won’t even be interested in the idea to use the carriage house’s patio for my lunch with Kate. I stop just outside the door and reconsider whether I should even bother. I’m sure Ava and the kids will be outside, and I can just tell Marius to stay out of sight for a while.

As I think that, Matthias calls out, “Ronan, is something wrong? Why are you standing out there? Come in!”

So much for reconsidering.

I step in and can’t believe how much this room reminds me of when our father used it as a home office. He spent much less time here working than Matthias does, but I can’t see a single thing my brother’s changed since he began calling it his own. The walls are that same light beige color. The black leather sofa is still here and in the same spot just inside the door. Even the big cherry wood desk is the same sitting near the windows that look out at the front of the estate.

All those years Matthias spent telling anyone who’d listen he had no interest in ever running King Industries or being anything like Maximilian King, and here he is like his doppelganger sitting behind the very desk our father used to sit at.

“I guess you’ve decided to stick with the way Dad used to keep the place?” I ask as I look around.

The Thanksgiving picture I drew in kindergarten with my hand as the turkey is still hanging on the wall to the left of the desk in that wood frame my mother let me pick out. The sun has faded the yellow and oranges where my fingers made the feathers, but the brown for my thumb and the turkey’s head is still going strong.

Pointing at it, I laugh. “You know, you can take that down. Pretty soon your own kids will be drawing you ugly Thanksgiving turkey pictures.”

He turns to look at the picture and nods before looking back at me. “I don’t think I never noticed that was there until now. Dad must have really liked that turkey you made for him.”

As the youngest, I always got the best treatment out of the five of us kids. I don’t think my parents loved me any more than any of my brothers. I just think by the time I came along, they had smoothed out all the rough spots and kinks in how to raise kids, so I simply seemed easier than the four who came before me.

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