Queen of Hawthorne Prep
I snort, giving my twin a pointed look. “Doubtful they’ll stay extra for long.”
Mom cracks a smile. We both know Austin has an enormous appetite. “I’m sure he can spare a pancake or two for his favorite sister.”
“I think what you meant to say is only sister,” I cut in.
My twin shakes his head before pointing his fork at our mother. “No can do.” He pats his flat belly. “I’m a growing boy.”
“If you’re not careful,” I snark, “you’ll start growing horizontal instead of vertical.”
His teeth flash in the light that filters in through the window. “You’re just jealous.”
Truth.
It’s not fair that one individual can pack away so much food and look the way he does. The only thing I’ll concede is that Austin works out in the gym and on the practice field like he’s already a professional athlete. If he doesn’t make it to the NFL, it won’t be from lack of effort.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m not all that hungry.” I’ve never been a big breakfast eater. Mom knows this but asks every morning just the same. It’s a little dance we do.
“Where’s Dad?” I glance around the sunlit kitchen and realize he’s conspicuously absent. Lately, we’ve been trying to make more of an effort to eat breakfast together as a family. Since Austin stays after school for football and Dad has been pulling late nights at the office, it’s the only time the four of us are in one place at the same time.
“He had an early morning meeting,” Mom says, busying herself with the pancakes on the griddle.
Unease scampers down my spine as I add sugar to my oversized cup of coffee. “Oh?” I give her a bit of side-eye, trying to get a read on her thoughts, but her face remains impassive. I can’t decipher if Dad’s meeting has anything to do with the Hawthorne-Rothchild agreement. A burst of nausea explodes in my gut, and I grimace. These secrets will eat me alive if I let them. If Kingsley discovers what my parents are up to, he’ll be furious, and I can’t blame him for that.
Austin’s dark eyes narrow as if he can sense the sudden tension that has gathered in the atmosphere. “What the hell is going on now?”
Not wanting to tackle that particular question, I lift the mug to my lips for a sip of java.
Mom hoists a smile and shakes her head as if to say—whatever do you mean? Her mannerisms become overly animated, which is a dead giveaway that she’s attempting to cover something up.
When it becomes apparent that Austin isn’t buying what she’s attempting to sell, Mom switches tactics and waves a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing, really. Your father hired a lawyer from New York. He’s hoping a fresh pair of eyes might help iron out a few details with the company.”
What she’s really saying is—All right, move it along now. There’s nothing to see here.
Unfortunately for Mom, her response has the opposite effect on Austin. His suspicions have only been roused further. He’s like a bird dog who has caught a scent.
“Uh-huh.” That’s all my twin grunts as his speculative gaze returns to me. It’s as if he’s attempting to work out a complicated math problem in his brain. I can almost see the wheels turning.
I’ve spent the last two days trying very hard not to think about the shit storm my parents have unwittingly unleashed. They don’t understand the tenuous position they’ve put me in. I either betray them or Kingsley. There is no middle ground. What I now realize is that I’m partly responsible for the road we’re careening down. When Mom dropped the bomb regarding their plans to fight the contract, I should have admitted my feelings for the next-door neighbor boy.
Instead, I’d remained silent.
I won’t deny there’s a part of me that detests being forced into marriage. Who I spend my life with should be my decision. If I end my relationship with Kingsley down the road, I should be allowed to walk away. The family company should not be the reason I’m stuck in a marriage. And that, in a nutshell, is the crux of the issue. If my parents could have figured it out before the contract had been signed, I would have been all for it.
A frustrated puff of air escapes from my lips because there’s nothing that can be done about it now. As those thoughts swirl through my head, my gaze drops to my phone. The twinge of concern in my belly blooms into something more.
It’s been nothing but radio silence from Kingsley. If he would shoot back a simple text, I’d know we were good and could relax. Instead, my nerves continue to stretch and lengthen. I’m on edge, and the caffeine jolting through my system only makes it worse.