“Welcoming you home, silly,” Elizabeth says. “We haven’t been together like this in ages.”
She has a point. The summons a few months back to our father’s new estate in Virginia doesn’t count.
“I don’t know about you, but I miss that. At least when we were younger, we spent summers and winter vacations together in Europe. In the last few years, we’ve barely had any quality time.” Elizabeth gestures at the dining table. There are a couple of bottles of champagne chilling in a silver ice bucket. “Let’s have a toast!”
I go along with it, although I wonder if she’s angling for brownie points. If she believes a toast is going to absolve her from meddling in my life, she has another think coming.
Ryder and Elliot expertly uncork the bottles, and everyone gets a flute except Belle, Paige and Nonny, who all opt for ginger ale instead. I look at Belle. “I’m sure people won’t mind if you have a little bubbly.”
She smiles. “I want to join the non-alcohol girls.”
Paige puts a hand on Belle’s arm. “Lucas is right. You don’t have to.”
Elliot wraps an arm around Belle’s shoulders. “She doesn’t have to, but she wants to. Don’t worry, I’ll drink two to make up for it.”
Laughing, Paige rolls her eyes, while Belle smiles up at Elliot like he just gave her a yacht. I’m not fooled by my twin’s little act there. Is Belle a recovering alcoholic? If so, how does she deal with his drinking? Elliot imbibes so much scotch he might as well get it through an IV.
Blake clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. “To us. May our father rue the day he decided to f—interfere in our lives.”
Amen. I lift my flute, then sip the champagne. It’s good—none of my siblings do bad alcohol.
“So how long are you staying in L.A.?” Paige asks.
“Indefinitely, at this point,” I respond.
“Then you’re coming to the opening of Nate Sterling’s new hospital tonight?” Elizabeth asks. Nate is her cousin’s brother-in-law, although she’s known him since forever. The Sterlings are important if one of your goals in life is to play Mother Theresa. There aren’t many families as wealthy and influential. “It’s sort of an opening-plus-fundraiser.”
“I’ll go if he’s invited a lot of unattached women,” Blake says.
“They may all flee in terror. You’ve got a reputation,” Ryder says.
Elizabeth shakes her head. “Blake doesn’t have a reputation. He just hasn’t met the right person yet.” She turns to our oldest brother. “And to answer your question, yes, Nate did invite a lot of single women.”
Perfect. I could use some gratuitous female company. Besides, I already promised. “I’ll be there.”
Elliot gives me a look. “Really?”
“It’s for a good cause, and I can use the tax deduction.” I shrug. “Besides, I’m the one who encouraged Nate to do the hospital project.”
“That’s great.” Elizabeth beams, while Elliot stares at me like I’ve grown a horn in the center of my forehead.
“It’s gonna be boring,” he says. “Skip it and come to my place for dinner instead.”
“I’ll bail early if it is. And take a rain check on the dinner.” I meet his eyes squarely and shove both hands into my pants pockets, fingernails digging into my palms. “But you heard what Elizabeth said about the women. It’s about time I get to work on fulfilling our father’s condition.”
Ryder’s jaw drops, his eyes almost bugging out. If I weren’t so heartsore with what happened with Ava, I’d probably laugh. “I thought you’d rather die,” he says.
“Changed my mind.” I let my gaze sweep over my siblings. “You guys want the paintings, right?”
Except for Blake, they nod, one by one, their motions a bit uncertain. Not surprising, given how strenuously I protested before.
Abruptly I pull out my hands and let them hang by my sides. “All right, then. Stop complaining.”
Chapter Nine
Ava
It takes two days to move and begin settling into L.A. Thank God for the relocation agency. It found me a reasonably priced, furnished apartment about an hour away from the medical center, plus the staff assisted me with used car shopping. I dreaded the prospect, girding my loins to deal with oily salesmen out to rip me off, but I ended up buying from an international student at UCLA who was leaving the country and wanted to get rid of her gently driven Toyota Camry. Only two years old, it’s silver and has very few miles on it. The price was quite reasonable as well, since she wanted to be able to sell without having to deal with a middleman.