“You could start by treating the Oban with more respect,” he replies with a pained expression on his face. “It’s a twenty-one-year Scotch, for fuck’s sake. You don’t gulp it down. You sip.”
“Damien. Focus.”
“Fine. If it were up to me, I'd blow the whole place up and start over. What does Hannah think?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she has to know what kind of condition the house is in, right?” He takes in my expression and gives me an exasperated look. “You didn’t tell her. Why not?”
“I didn’t want her to feel guilty about the money.” The situation is not optimal, but my need to do right by my sister outweighs the inconvenience of living in Kincaid Castle. At least the hot water tank has stopped working now, when it’s still warm outside. I’ll feel very differently about my cold shower in January. “It’s not her problem to deal with. It’s mine.”
I must look mutinous because he sighs. “Okay, fine. Can she have the wedding outside?”
“In December?”
“Right, the weather. What about the greenhouse? It’s large enough, isn’t it? Unless Hannah will have more than two hundred people at her wedding.”
“She said a hundred and fifty.”
Damien quirks an eyebrow. “Hannah knows a hundred and fifty people?”
“Samir has a large family.” A waiter passes by with a tray of champagne, and I grab one. Maybe I can gulp this down without getting grief about treating the bloody Scotch with respect. Although, given Xavier’s taste in champagne, I’m sure I’m drinking a ludicrously expensive brand. “The greenhouse isn’t in great shape, but it might be fixable in four months.” I think about the current plumbing situation and the state of the downstairs bathrooms. “Maybe. I can probably do some of the work myself.”
“You can?”
“I used to work for a contractor, remember?”
“That was over ten years ago,” he points out. “And don’t you have to work on the Medusa storyboard?”
“Shockingly, I’m ahead of schedule there. I can make it work if I have to. And I have to, Damien. I owe Hannah this. Anyway, enough about me. What’s been going on with you?” I survey my friend. “You look terrible.”
“Fuck you,” he replies without heat. He takes a sip of his Scotch with an appreciative expression on his face. “I’m jetlagged. I was in Shanghai two days ago. Tokyo before that. Siberia last week. I don’t know if I’m awake or asleep.”
“Stop whining. They’re all in the same general area of the world.”
Damien flips me off. “Thank you, Julian,” he says. “I wasn't looking for a geography lesson as much as I was looking for sympathy.”
The Cardenas Group is a conglomerate headquartered in Peru. Mining mostly, but they’ve got their fingers in a lot of other industries. Damien is the Chief Operating Officer. It seems exhausting and thankless. “You have competent managers. You don’t have to do everything yourself.”
His face tightens fractionally. “It’s not that simple, and you know it.” He takes another sip of his Scotch, which restores his mood. “Come on, we better go in. Xavier gets huffy if we blow off his fundraisers.”
We enter the ballroom. I look around, and my gaze lands on a blonde woman talking to Xavier Leforte. She's wearing a glittery black dress, and when she looks up and sees me, her face goes pale.
Sophia.
The memories crash into me. Ten years ago. Same castle. The opening night of Club M, the private club in the basement. Sophia wanted a threesome with Damien and me. Or was it Damien’s idea? Mine? I don’t remember. Time has blurred some details, but it hasn’t erased one thing.
It had been the hottest night of my life.
She says something to Xavier and hurries away.
Xavier walks over with a frown. “I didn’t know you knew Sophia.”
Damien is looking as dazed as I feel. “We’ve met, yes,” he manages.
“Really?” Xavier’s eyes narrow. “That’s not what Sophia said. She said the three of you slept together, and then, the morning after, Damien got her fired.”
What?