Alexander chuckles. “Of course, of course.”
“Alexander was just telling me about a holiday party he’s hosting in his home,” my dad says. “He was encouraging me to invite you and Jasmine to the festivities.”
“You don’t say. That’s awfully kind of you to think of us.”
Fuck, I hate this schmoozing shit, especially with pompous assholes like this.
“Of course I’d think about you,” Alexander assures me. “You are the heir to Davenport empire, after all. So, what do you say? It’s next Saturday.”
“I’ll have to check with Jasmine and get back to you.”
Going to this dickhead’s house is probably one of the last things I want to do, but it could be fruitful, even I have to admit. That doesn’t mean I want Jazz anywhere near him, though.
Alexander flashes a confused look in my father’s direction.
“I’m afraid my boy here has his hands full with the Callahan girl. She’s not exactly keen on taking orders. Yet.” My dad laughs conspiratorially. “I doubt she’d be... receptive if Kingston accepted an invite on her behalf without consulting her first.”
My father’s not wrong, and I fucking hate it that he knows that about her. Hell, I hate it that he knows anything about her.
Deep lines form around Alexander’s beady eyes as he grins knowingly. “Ah, she’s a bit of a wild mustang, huh? They’re a bitch to tame, but that makes owning them that much sweeter, right?”
I smirk as I imagine clocking this guy in the jaw. “Right.”
“What about the blonde with the big tits? The Devereaux heiress? Weren’t you two discussing marriage? You still keeping her on the line for some variety?” He holds his hands out in front of his chest like he’s grabbing a pair of breasts and wags his eyebrows.
Douchebag.
Neither he nor my dad sees how wrong their misogyny is, nor do they understand why objectifying someone who’s barely eighteen is not okay. Ivanov is in his early forties, so the age gap isn’t nearly as significant as it is with my father, but still. There’s something fucking wrong when a middle-aged man is lusting after a teenager.
“Nope. Peyton has a problem sticking too many dicks in her mouth. And other places, I’m sure.” I briefly glance at my father. “She’s rather indiscriminate in that regard. You never know who she’s going to give it up to next.”
My father’s eyes narrow, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m putting Peyton’s inheritance at risk or because he suspects I know he’s fucking her. Probably both. Oh, the tangled webs we weave when we conspire to deceive.
Alexander blinks a few times before he figures out how to respond to that. “Well, if you ask me, you traded up.”
Look at that: a kernel of truth amongst all the bullshit.
“I’m not going to argue with you on that.”
I scan the room, relaxing marginally when I find Jazz. As our eyes meet, a genuine smile stretches across her face that I can’t help but return. Charles pulls her into his side, introducing her to yet another rich prick, causing her to frown. My brows draw together as I mimic the gesture. I hate how uncomfortable she is, being so close to Charles, acting like the perfect daughter he’d like her to be.
I turn back around and find both my dad and Alexander staring at me. Ivanov is giving me a good for you, son wink, but my father’s gaze is suspicious with a healthy dose of jealousy. It’s odd seeing this man be anything but cold and robotic. He’s been so closed off my entire life, yet lately, he’s practically hemorrhaging emotion. It’s fascinating how Jazz’s arrival has lifted the veil we all worked hard to maintain over the years. Charles, Madeline, Peyton, my dad, Bentley, me—no one’s immune. Jazz just has that effect on you. Fighting it is futile.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to speak with a few more people before I need to leave.” My eyes flick to Alexander. “I’ll get back to you about the party as soon as possible.”
He nods. “Please do. If it helps convince your lady friend, your sister will be there.”
That gives me pause. “Why’s that?”
The question was directed at Ivanov, but my dad answers instead. “Alexander’s good friend is the dean of the Los Angeles School of Performing Arts. Alex was kind enough to arrange an introduction. I know your sister has her heart set on Juilliard, but it doesn’t hurt to have other options, especially one so close to home.”
Fuck. Now I have to go, regardless. There’s no way in hell I’m leaving Ainsley exposed like that. Who the hell knows what the guest list will look like?
I take a deep breath, reminding myself to stay calm. “We’ll talk soon. It was nice seeing you.”
On a mission to get to Jazz, I cross the room, but I’m stopped about halfway there when a thirty-something dark-haired man steps in my path.
“Mr. Davenport.”