Page 16 of Zachary

Zac

Family dinner tonight is quiet.

Too quiet.

Someone-fucked-up-and-Grandmother’s-about-to-go-ballistic quiet.

Even the kids have noticed and are diligently working their way through their food with their heads down. I exchange a look with Asher, then Micah. This is… not good.

“So,” Aunt Hilda attempts gamely, “tell us how skating was today, kids.”

Isaac lifts his gaze, flicks it around the table, then says, “I don’t want to,” before going back to his potatoes. A hysterical bubble of laughter catches in my throat.

Chloe, older and braver, chimes in with, “It was good.” But there are limits to even her courage.

I’m trying to catch my mother’s eye—maybe she can steer us in the right direction; she and Grandmother are two peas in a pod—when Cam blithely makes a fatal mistake.

He makes a second attempt to get the conversation going.

And, unfortunately, he drags me right into the middle of the shitstorm.

“Has Zac spoken to any of you about his idea for a ski resort?” he asks, spearing some green beans. Does he… not notice the tension in the room? “I think it could be a real winner… and I’ve never been skiing before. Micah promised to take me.”

I glare at Micah, begging him to do something.

Uncle Hal clears his throat, steals a glance at Grandmother’s stony face, and bravely tries to support his potential future son-in-law. “A ski resort? I thought it was too steep around here for anything like that.”

Cam shakes his head, then nods. “Oh, it is, mostly, but there’s an area that could be used. I think it would have been too expensive and not worth it when people couldn’t get up here year-round, but now that Garrett’s planning to implement regular transportation, it could be worth it. Right, Zac? Tell them what you were thinking. Micah, stop that. If you need more room for your leg, move your chair. There’s no need to jostle me.”

Micah closes his eyes in frustration and despair, and I steel myself. “It’s not going to happen,” I say quietly. “My plans have been shelved.”

Cam frowns. “But why?”

Garrett, whose face has been twisted with indecision for the last few minutes, adds, “Asher said you’d mentioned that—shelving the plans. Is the problem to do with the expenses? Because I think we—”

“The problem,” Grandmother breaks in, her voice so cold that I need to stop myself from shivering, “is that Zachary spends so much time on his foolish dreams that he allows himself to damage our community and what we’re trying to build here.”

I can almost feel the blood draining from my face. Me? It’s me she’s mad at?Why?I haven’t done anything since myattempted pitch for the resort, and she wasn’t this angry at the time.

But her gimlet gaze is drilling into me now, and I have no choice but to face this. “I’m not sure what you mean. I would never do anything to damage our community. And”—might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb—“the ski resort would attract people to the community who aren’t interested in the museum, as well as providing accommodation to support academics in the summer. I want to help what we’re building.” I stop abruptly. Asher’s giving me a wide-eyed “you got balls, but stop if you wanna keep them” look.

“Oh?” Grandmother’s brow rises, and sweat breaks out down my spine. She wouldn’t kill me. She loves me. I’m her grandson. She’s never killed a relative.

We think.

Has anyone ever confirmed that?

Too late now.

“Well, Zachary, if indeed you want to help what we’re building, perhaps you could explain to us all why you’ve so severely insulted the dragon representative?”

I try to keep my breathing steady. This is about Ronan? Seriously? Just when I’ve resolved to be nice to him,nowshe wants to yell at me about rudeness?

And since when has she cared that much about rudeness anyway?

“I admit I’ve been less than welcoming to Ronan,” I say carefully. “Asher and Micah have already reminded me that I owe him respect and hospitality. I’ll be making more of an effort in future.”

She scoffs. “As if I care that you’re grouchy and pigheaded! It’s not as though his manner has been all that genteel. No, I’m referring to the outright, unforgiveable insult you gave him yesterday. When you accused him of, how did you put it?Sulking in the dark, I believe it was. You suggested that he might be hiding instead of working and told him not to waste your time!”

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