Page 65 of Finding Lord Landry

Jim and Kenji laughed politely as we all stood up to make our way out of the cafe.

“And what about you?” I asked Jamie as I helped Kenji into his coat. “I don’t remember you giving up either.”

Jamie met my eye and waited a beat for his father to step over to say something to the server. “You weren’t the only one with family expectations, Ev… Landry,” he said in a low voice. “You weren’t then, and you aren’t now.”

We each played our roles as we sauntered out of the cafe and made a big production out of saying goodbye and wishing each other well.

“See you later this week at Killian Prep?” I asked Jamie with a smile as if we were suddenly great chums.

“Wouldn’t miss it. See you then.”

As soon as Kenji and I stepped onto the pavement, the questions started up again. This time, they were more focused on San Cordova. On the violence and conflict. On whether or not we’d heard about the delay in freeing the remaining hostages.

Kenji seemed to shrink next to me, so I let go of his hand and wrapped an arm around his shoulders before ignoring the questions and setting off for Hawling House under the protection of our security personnel. The warm weight of Kenji against my side felt better as we made our way down Charlbert Street. Partway down the road, I pointed to a building behind scaffolding. “Did you know Zane once recorded a song in that recording studio when he was here between tour dates? Apparently, they’d messed something up on… what song was it?”

“Oh. Was it ‘Ashes to Amen’ and everyone started calling it ‘Ashes to Omens’ after everything went wrong?”

We laughed together, remembering. It felt good to have someone with a depth of shared memory. I was grateful to have Kenji and the guys in the Brotherhood. At a time when my father’s memory was becoming unpredictable, I especially appreciated being able to reminisce with Kenji.

I would miss it when he was back in New York.

Kenji leaned over and kissed under my ear, surprising me.

“What was that for?” I said it in a teasing manner for the cameras, but his kiss didn’t feel scripted or put on.

“I was in Florida when that happened with Zane. At my grandmother’s bedside. She’d passed out at a luncheon, and her friends had worried it was a stroke, so I flew down to be with her?—”

“Oh shit,” I said. “Yeah. I remember now. I think I was in Milan or something. I know I wasn’t in New York with you when you got the call.”

He leaned into me even more, almost causing me to list sideways. “You were in Turkey. And I remember because I got a security alert from your credit card account asking if you’d meant to make a purchase on United Airlines for over two thousand dollars from somewhere in Turkey.”

“Oh?” I felt his eyes on me.

“Yes. And I assumed the charge was fraudulent because you had the private plane with you in Istanbul. But when I got to JFK to check in for my flight to Florida—a flight on United Airlines, of course—they’d put me in first class.”

My face heated. “Sucks to have long legs in coach,” I muttered, grateful to spot our house at the end of the block.

Kenji’s legs weren’t all that long, but they still seemed it. He reminded me of a praying mantis sometimes, long and lean. Poised. Observant.

Before he had a chance to say anything else, we’d reached the house. I gestured the security personnel to the side so I could answer one of the shouted questions I’d heard.

Kenji stood close, his hand warm in mine.

“As you know, that was Jim Winthrop at the cafe, along with his son, Jamie. Jamie happened to be at the same retreat in San Cordova where Kenji was when the protests began. Jamie and I were at Eton together,” I added, subtly reminding everyone I was the son of a peer, an old-money aristocrat rather than simply an American supermodel. I’d been to Eton. I’d been raised here, at one of the largest historical homes in London. It was the reason we took all of our questions here, on the front steps of Hawling House, instead of in front of a cafe that was younger than Zoom. “It was nice to rekindle our friendship. I discovered we’re both involved in a youth charity event later this week. Killian Prep School has agreed to open their sports fields and swim facilities for use by the Crimstock and Fendall Primary Schools for their sports days. The Davencourt Foundation is donating equipment and other kit so more kids can enjoy outdoor sport. The Winthrops’ own foundation has created a project to replicate this at other schools around London. They’ll be announcing more information about it later this week. It’s an incredible project.”

Kenji piped up. “And Landry is giving a talk to all of the school children about the importance of healthy nutrition and exercise. Over the years, he’s supported dozens of similar programs in the US and Latin America. You probably already know about his participation in the CFDA Health Initiative and Vic Machado’s Shape the Runway program.”

My face heated as I cut him off as quickly as possible. “We also discussed the upcoming Hearts of Hawling Dinner, which helps the Davencourt Foundation raise money to be able to fund projects like these. I made sure Jim and Jamie were both invited, and I’m looking forward to connecting with many other old friends there. If you have any other questions, please reach out to the foundation. Thank you.”

I slid my hand onto Kenji’s lower back and guided him through the front door and toward the staircase. Once the front doors were closed behind us, he turned to move toward the kitchen. “Don’t you want to update Cora and Nan on how it went?” he asked.

“No. I want to get back in bed.”

Kenji’s eyes widened.

“Alone,” I added quickly.

He rubbed his thumb across the back of the ring on his finger as if ensuring it was still there. “Fine. But I’m going to give them an update.”

---