Page 90 of Terms + Conditions
“Michaela,” Nina says and places a hand on my sister’s arm. “Can you take Leia? Keep her busy.”
Michaela huffs. I know she’s annoyed that Nina wantsherto take care of the kids. She wants to be in on the conversation, but she does she’s told. She takes Ophelia by the hand and leads her toward the kitchen with a promise of ice cream, much to the dismay of her mother. That kid has already had enough candyand cookies to power a freight train. The last thing she needed was more sugar. I feel sorry for Kai and Eileen when they have to deal with her later.
Nina turns back to security when they’re gone. “Explain now.”
“Go ahead and tell them what you told us,” Scott instructs the girl. The girl swallows hard, her eyes roaming over the group of strangers before her. When they land on me, she looks down at her shoes. “Don’t be shy, go ahead.”
“Hey, sweetie.” Nina steps forward, placing a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. “You’re okay. We just want to know what you’re looking for.”
“My dad,” the girl whispers, and I barely hear her over the sound of the music.
“And who’s your dad?”
Her eyes shoot up to mine. “Josh Davis.”
The world slows down. What did she just say? Did she just saymyname? She can’t be serious. This has to be some kind of joke. A sick one, but a joke nonetheless.
“Take her upstairs to the office.” Nina directs Eileen. “Now, before the others see her.”
“Is this some Godfather shit?” the young girl asks.
Nick chuckles. “No…Well, kind of.”
Eileen shoots him a glare before wrapping her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “C’mon, I’ll show you the way.”
She doesn’t budge, instead, she looks at me for some kind of approval—her brown eyes wide with fear.
I don’t know why I say it, but I offer her an encouraging smile and say, “It’s okay. We’ll be right there.”
Eileen leads her away from the scene, security following closely behind.
“Can’t we ever just have a normal holiday?” Kai asks.
“Where would the fun be in that?” Finn chuckles, walking down the hallway toward the stairs.
I know it was meant to be a joke, but if someone walked in, they probably would think this is a scene from your favorite mobster show—Godfather, Goodfellas, Scarface, Once Upon a Time in America…take your pick. Eileen sits on the far edge of the couch, and Kai stands nearby, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall. Nick sits on the other end of the sofa. He keeps a close eye on his wife, who sits in the black leather armchair across the coffee table from the girl. Finn and I stand off to the side near the window while Elizabeth stands near the door. Occasionally, her eyes meet mine, and she offers a small smile, but the hesitation in brown her eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.
We just figured our shit out, and nowthishappens. What. The. Fuck? Isn’t that how life works, though? Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Scott stands in the doorway, just in case. The young girl stares back at us from her place on the pristine white suede couch between Nick and Eileen. She sticks out like a sore thumb, dressed in high-waisted jeans and a white tank top with a green checkered flannel, especially compared to the rest of us who are dressed for the holiday. Her long brown hair ghosts across her back, landing just below her shoulder blades, and she switches between sitting on her hands and playing with a stray piece that hangs over her shoulder.
“What’s your name, sweetie?” Nina asks. Her velvety voice wraps around the room like a warm blanket. If there’s one thing Nina knows how to do, it’s put you at ease in a stressful situation…Well, when she wants to. Again, one of those superpowers that comes from years of training at the hands of someone like Brina Villa.
“Brie,” the girl says.
“Okay, Brie.” Nina’s reddish-brown lips pull into a soft smile. “What makes you think Josh is your dad?” Her green eyes pierce through me briefly as Brie begins to dig into her bag, and I notice Scott flinch, but Nina shakes her head at him, never taking her focus off the girl. Brie slides a piece of paper and an envelope across the table, and Nina examines them. The paper looks like some kind of official document, but I can’t quite make out what it is from this angle. She looks over her shoulder at me. “Do you know a Juliet Sinclaire?”
Juliet Sinclaire.
Holy shit.
My eyes raise to meet Elizabeth, her features set in stone, waiting for my reply. This cannot be happening. We just got over this shit.
“How old are you?” I ask, turning back to Brie.
“I just turned fifteen.” Brie chews on her bottom lip.
“Shit.” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. If Brie was born in December fifteen years ago, that would make it 2010. That would mean Juliet had to get pregnant in November, October, September…June…May…March. And that’s when…Shit.
