Page 5 of Darling Beasts

Dad first screwed up his face, then laughed. He laughed! Talia burned with rage. “The Ranch has been in the family for a hundred and fifty years. I’d never sell it. And good thing, too. It’ll make perfect campaign headquarters.”

Talia would never, not in a million years, consider the Ranchhishome. He saw it as an asset, something handed down, part of a portfolio like a stock certificate or his great-grandfather’s collection of pipes.

“But it’s Mom’s house,” Talia said. Diane scooted closer, and Talia wiggled away. “She lived there. It was her home!”

“I let your mother stay there,” Dad said, “but it’s always belonged to me.”

“It’s a beautiful property,” Ustenya mused, sounding wistful for the first time in her life. “Reminds me of the old country.”

Now Talia was reeling. Dad and Ustenya had...visited the Ranch?Like, on vacation? This felt like a violation, along the lines of trespassing. “You’ve been actively going to the Ranch? What the actual fuck?”

“Oh, shit,” Ozzie said, chortling.

Talia looked toward the doorway, hoping for backup. Surely even Gabby could drum up some outrage, but—whaddya know—she was gone. What was the point of a sister if not for times like these? Talia didn’t expect them to be besties or anything, but would’ve loved a confidant, a partner, a pal on the inside. Someone to turn to and say,Can you fucking believe this?It’s the reason Talia occasionally thought of herself as an only child.

Jiggling her head, Talia returned her attentions to the group. “Why do you still own it?” she asked, though this was the least of her problems with all this. “You kept seventy acres of prime real estate less than ten miles from the ocean while you were going broke?”

“Valid,” Ozzie said. “But, like, good for you, man.” He fist-bumped the air.

“I don’t owe either of you an explanation of my property holdings,” Dad grumbled, “but since you’re so interested, we’ve taken cost-cutting measures at the Ranch.” He went on to describe boarded-up buildings, the shuttered recreation pavilion, and how they watered only some lawns. “We also made a very handsome profit selling this house.”

Ozzie leapt to his feet. “WHAT?” he yelped. “Thishouse? The one we are currently sitting in?”

“And we’re going to Airbnb the apartment,” Ustenya added cheerfully.

Ozzie’s face flamed. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “You got rid of the sickest crib in Water Mill, and now you’re turning an Upper East Side penthouse into a short-termvacation rental? You’ve got to be shitting me.” Ozzie slipped on his sunglasses. “Good Lord. I’m a celebrity. Get me out of here. Best wisheson your little campaign, but I gots to go.” He peered over his sunglasses at Diane. “Tell Ballsack to get the heli ready.”

Diane tucked her neat brown bob behind her ears, frowning as Ozzie explained that Ballsack was his assistant. “How nice,” she said, smoothing her hair again. “But I’m not your assistant, or Ballsack’s for that matter. Therefore, the answer is no.”

“We’re spicy today. I see you,” Ozzie said, pointing two fingers first at his eyes and then Diane’s. “Goodbye, everyone.” After adjusting his comically large gold watch, Ozzie pivoted on a heel and marched off, waving overhead as he went.

“And then there was one,” Dad said, and Talia truly thought she might throw up. “Listen.” He put his hands together in a kind of suction-y clap. “We’ve thrown a lot at you, but it all boils down to one thing. I want you with me, on this campaign. Can you find it in your heart to help your old dad? I know that together we can do something great.”

Chapter Three

Ozzie

Ozzie felt lost. Not, like, literally. The helicopter was going in the right direction. But mentally he was messed up and feeling sorry for his dad in a way he hadn’t before. It was crazy that it’d taken Ozzie this long to understand the gravity of the situation. Running for office, selling the Hamptons house, Airbnbing the apartment. The man was falling apart.Poor bastard, he thought, shaking his head.

“Ballsack,” Ozzie shouted over the whirr of the helicopter blades. “Dad’s selling Water Mill, and your boy can’t be caught lacking. We need a place in the Hamptons. Where should we look?”

Ballsack donned his pondering face. “It’s a pretty big area. Are you thinking Southampton or East Hampton?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I’m asking!” Ozzie took a breath. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to yell. It’s been a long night.”

“We chill,” Ballsack said.

“Thanks, bro.” He pounded his chest. “I appreciate you.”

Times like these, Ozzie wished he could remember the kid’s name. Ballsack was a friend of a friend who’d needed a job and to be paid in cash “for security reasons.” Ozzie never learned his real name, or maybe he forgot. Either way, after three months, it was too late to ask, and Ozzie felt pretty shitty about the whole thing. Like, maybe focus for a minute or two, you absolute douche.

“I don’t care where in the Hamptons,” Ozzie said. “Something up-and-coming would be fire. A pre-hip location, if you will.”

“Um. Okay. I’m not sure there are any pre-hip areas in the Hamptons, but I’ll look into it?”

“Sick.”

Ozzie picked up his phone. The auction for the art pieceThe Bestiary of Chaoswould be over before they landed. He was edging out the other bidder but now harbored second thoughts. However badly he wanted it, the price currently sat at $1.3 mil, and that’d fund some nice upgrades to his future Hamptons spread.

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