Five Years Later
Chapter16
Knight
The lilies stunk. It was a putrid scent that wafted in and out of every room. There had to be fifty vases of the fucking flowers. The emerald wallpaper was dated, and the mauve carpet didn’t help. I scowled at Paul. Was this the best he could do for my father? It looked like something out of a bad 80s movie. I was furious we were here. Furious it had been rushed. Furious at the damn florist.
My mother pressed an embroidered handkerchief to her nose. The netting on her black veil kept snagging on her wedding ring. “I still can’t believe it. I’m so glad you’re home, Knight. We couldn’t get through this if you weren’t here.” She said it loud enough for everyone to hear.
She was a strong woman. She always had been. I wasn’t sure I could trust that she was faltering now. But maybe death had affected her.
The first wave of guests entered the room, stopping in front of my mother before making their way down the line. Seraphina was at the end on the other side of Brandon. She refused to sit in a chair, no matter how many times Brandon tried to get one for her. It was still strange to see my sister six-months pregnant.
I hadn’t had much time to talk to anyone, including her. I wanted to know how things were going with her husband. I wanted to know if our mother was putting up a charade or, was she actually crumbling? Who signed off on Paul’s arrangements at this fucking funeral dive?
My flight from Paris landed with only enough time to drive to the funeral home before visitation began. I had changed suits in the men’s room. I couldn’t greet mourners wrinkled from airplane clothes.
Paul walked up behind me. “I’ve set up a meeting for you at the compound after tonight’s event.” His voice was quiet, so the other couldn’t hear.
I nodded.
I knew it had to be done quickly. Raphael Corban no longer walked this earth. Someone had to make sure that everything he had built wasn’t eviscerated in a matter of days. And that was exactly what would happen if we didn’t act swiftly to transfer the power from his hand to mine.
“I will wait for you at the compound, sir.”
He disappeared and left me to face a crowd of people I hadn’t seen in years. Each one made up a kind story about my father. A funny tale. A classic Raphael memory. We shook hands. Some of the women hugged me and began to cry when they slid over to my mother.
I was relieved when I saw Parker Bastion. He slapped me on the back. “God, so sorry about your dad.”
“Thanks. It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming.”
“I would have brought Chelsea, but she’s home with the kids, you know. We didn’t think we should bring them to this.”
“Right. Two kids. That’s good. Good for you, man.”
Parker rubbed the side of his face. “She won’t care if I stay out tonight. It is a funeral, after all. Want to grab drinks? I’m buying.” He smiled. “You still drink that bourbon, or have you moved on to French drinks?”
I didn’t know if it was a quick kick of jetlag taking over, or if it was the foul smell of the lilies. I felt my stomach turn. I had to get out of this fucking line. I didn’t want to small talk. I didn’t want to pretend Raphael had one ounce of good in him. The lies invaded every corner of this room.
“Tomorrow night?” I asked, skirting away. “I have a meeting when I’m done here.” I took a giant step away from the group. “We’ll catch up then.”
“Sure, sure,” he answered, sounding confused.
My mother had already pulled Parker into a tight hug. I ducked out the side door and looked upward, trying to breathe in deep gulps of air. Thank God there was an escape out of that room. The humidity would take a while to adjust to again. This was nothing like Paris. I’d been home all of three hours, and I already missed the crisp air. Being in New Orleans wasn’t supposed to get to me, but it did.
The door cracked. I heard the murmur of people talking. Coffee cups clanking on saucers. I didn’t want to know who the footsteps belonged to and then I realized it was Seraphina. I smiled.
“Hey, what are you doing out here?” She wandered over.
I exhaled. “Getting some air.” I draped an arm around her shoulder. “How are you doing?”
She shrugged. “Funerals suck. Daddy’s seems to really suck.” Her hand rested on her belly. My little sister was about to be a mom. That made me an unprepared uncle.
“I can’t imagine if he were here, he’d be happy about it. Where’s the champagne? Cigars? Expensive scotch?”
She laughed. “It does seem really cheap, doesn’t it?”
“I’m glad I’m not the one who planned it.” Although he wasn’t here to fire the staff. He wasn’t here to yell and boil over until he broke fine crystal. He wasn’t here to tell me I’d fucked it up.