I tossed my hair back and smiled innocently. “Trust me, honey, no one wants to see that,” I said.
“Your grandma is looking forward to seeing you, dear,” Abby said and kissed her on the forehead as she handed the little girl’s fancy, overstuffed bag to Max. “You’ll have a lot of fun there, as you always do.”
Arabella’s face fell as she looked longingly at the London skyline. “Her house smells like soup...and old socks.”
The adults in the room turned their laughter quickly into coughs as Nick scooped her up and handed her off to his trusted bodyguard. “That’s only because she’s the world’s best cook and loves to do laundry. You’ll love it. It will only be a few days, and then you can come back and play with your Uncle James.”
Her face perked up at the prospect, and she looked at him slyly out of the corner of her eye. “Will you have time for me then, Uncle James? And I don’t mean just time to wash off the peanut butter.”
A strange look flickered across James’s face before he smiled again. “I’ll always have all the time in the world for you, love, as well as a seat beside me at the table. Remember, you’re my favorite.”
There was a flurry of hugs and goodbyes before Max and Arabella headed into the elevator. They were followed soon by Ferdie, who muttered something about stocking up on groceries, though I suspected he had more on his mind, that he couldn’t stand to see James throw away his birthright.
Just a minute or two later, just the four of us were left, along with a fight that wasn’t going anywhere.
The second the door closed, Nick stepped forward again, but James lifted a preemptive hand to stop him. “Enough, all right? We’ve talked this to death. It’s done. My decision is made, and that’s final.”
I expected Nick to rant and rave, expected him to pull out some brilliant piece of logic I’d not yet thought of myself, expected him to generally just bully James into making the right decision. However, Nick did none of those things; instead, he merely offered his friend one last appraising glance and asked, “You’re absolutely sure there’s nothing I can say to change your mind?”
James’s face softened slightly at his friend’s change of tone, and he even wen
t so far as to offer him a faint smile. “I’m sorry, but no. I promise this is for the best,” he added quickly, trying to convince everyone else as much as he was trying to convince himself. “You’ll see.”
Nick stared at him for a second more before nodding curtly and walking away. “In that case, Abby and I need to pack,” he threw over his shoulder.
With that, the two vanished, leaving James and me frozen in surprise. We looked at one another quickly, shared a shrug, and rushed after them, then skidded to a stop on the checkered tile, right on their heels.
“You’re leaving, just like that?” James asked in disbelief. “You’re actually going to go?”
There was no response as they continued up the stairs.
James stared incredulously after them and was just about to go up himself when the elevator door suddenly whooshed open. At that point, he changed direction midstep, cursing under his breath, “Damn Max. What bad timing to forget the tickets.”
Of course it wasn’t Max who stepped into the parlor, not by a long shot, and by the look on James’s face, he was just as surprised and confused as I was.
“Max, why must you...” he started, then stopped as his mind caught up with what his eyes saw. “Wait. Gr-Granny?” he stuttered.
The ancient woman marched furiously toward us, storming into the penthouse as if she not only owned it but the rest of the city as well. Her eyes flashed blue fire as she whipped a cane out of thin air and smashed it down with chilling finality upon the checkered floor. “James Lysander Cross,” she said, “you, young man, have got some serious explaining to do!”
Chapter 14
“YOU’RE GOING TO THE island.”
James took a step back as the shock faded slowly from his face, only to be replaced by a dark sort of understanding. That seemed to increase tenfold as his eyes jumped back up the stairs. “Nick,” he muttered.
Granny hobbled forward, waving her cane like a spear. “Now, before you get any fancy ideas, like parachuting off the balcony, you should know that I’ve got the place surrounded.”
Surrounded? What the hell is going on? Is she nuts? Is James’s family part of the British mafia? Is there even such thing as a British mafia?
“Nick did this, didn’t he?”
“I may be 500 years old, chap,” she croaked, swinging the walking stick dangerously close to his face, “but that doesn’t mean I no longer have connections in the Special Forces.”
Seriously? Crazy must run in the family.
“He knew I wouldn’t come ‘round, so...”
“CIA, FBI, MI6, and about half a dozen other covert agencies you’ve never even heard of, my friend.” The cane sliced through the air, adding an ominous hissing noise to punctuate every word she said. “Hell, I’ve got Angela Merkel on speed-dial. Just give me a reason.”