The Woman from the Past (Grassi Framily)

My gaze kept going to my phone as I got ready, wishing I could text Cammie, but knowing I couldn’t risk it.

But if I lost track of time and didn’t call her, she might freak out about the plan getting fucked up.

“Christ,” I hissed, grabbing my phone and shoving it in my pocket.

I needed to get a fucking grip.

So I went to my mom’s place. And I talked to my family and ate too much food. And I absolutely did not look at my fucking phone.

When I finally did let myself even glance at it, it was almost ten.

“Shit,” I hissed, guilt immediately coursing through me as I sidestepped my cousin and slipped onto the back deck to call.

Only to have it go to voicemail.

That wasn’t completely unusual since she had to keep the volume off completely. So if she wasn’t looking right at it, she missed the first few calls.

So I tried again. And again. And again. Until my call log said I’d done it ten times in a row.

“You missed Aunt Marg freaking out on me about accidentally sweeping over Sofia’s feet,” Valley said, sliding the door closed behind her, making the sounds of our family immediately muffle. “Apparently, now she will never get married. Hey, what’s up?” she asked when I had no reaction to her comment.

“Nothing,” I said, lying through my teeth. My brothers would have let it slide. Valley, though? She’d never let anything slide ever in her fucking life.

“How about you attempt to look me in the eye when you lie to me?” she suggested, making me exhale hard and turn.

Valley had all the tall and lean that we did, but the soft, feminine features she’d inherited from our mother. Her long, wavy black hair was down her back, and despite it just being a family gathering, she was all dolled up in a black silk dress, heels, bright red lipstick, and a smoky look around her light green eyes.

“Love you, Valley, but I’m not in the fucking mood.”

“You know what has never stopped me from nagging? A guy not being in the mood,” she said, moving forward to lean against the railing. “So, what’s her name?”

“Who?”

“Oh, come on. You’ve checked your phone four times since I walked out here. I know lovesick when I see it. What’s her name?”

“Cammie. And I’m not in love with her.”

“Just a little infatuated then,” she said. “Which is still a big deal. How are you doing? These are big feelings for you.”

“Are you really talking to me like I’m a pre-schooler?”

“Are you really dealing with your emotions like a pre-schooler?” she shot back.

Valley was a teacher at the Labret Academy. Which was a fancy-ass school for theultra-rich elitechildren.

It was a giant, sprawling school that they’d built over in Mareville—home of theultra-rich eliteparents.

Growing up in a big family, she’d always had an affinity for children. And after a year in public school, she decided she wanted to work somewhere that gave teachers the respect and salary and budgets they deserved. Despite the fact that, because of the Family, she’d never have to worry about the money.

It’s the principle of the thing.

“So I need to point you to the feelings chart?” she asked, smirking at me.

“You have a feelings chart?”

“Some kids aren’t raised in positive-parenting environments. They don’t know how to communicate their feelings. Charts help. And since you have thatI’m a big strong man, I don’t have emotionsthing going for you, I think I might need to start carrying a pocket chart.”

“I can’t talk to you about it because it has to do with work,” I told her.