I suppress a shudder.
She’s already getting suspicious over the continued delays of my trip to Italy. Not to mention she’s probably plotting a way to force me into doing what she wants—which is move into her mansion.
After a couple of weeks of clandestine rendezvous with Dominic, she summons me over to brunch at her place. It’s smaller than Uncle Salazar’s, but no less luxurious with polished stone, Italian tiles and citrus trees and a pool that nobody uses.
She’s already seated at the long table by the time I arrive. She’s impeccable as usual in a hunter-green dress, her hair shining like polished steel and pulled into a bun at the base of her frail neck. Despite her age, her skin is hardly lined and glows with liberal use of makeup, cream and medical technology.
As the head of the Pryce Family Foundation, she oversees all sorts of charitable causes the family champions. Unfortunately, her reputation is, well…ungracious…although fairly earned. I can’t think of a time when Shirley’s hard gray gaze hasn’t judged.
And I’m surprised to see her assistant Tolyan behind her. Well, not really an assistant, but you know… He isn’t her boy toy, either.
His tightly cropped sandy brown hair glinting in the morning sunlight, he stands military straight in a black suit and a crisp white dress shirt, no tie. He’s tall, built like one of those pro wrestlers with the broad shoulders and thick muscles. He moves like a jungle cat, but his pale blue eyes are barren and cold. It’s the kind of gaze Jack the Ripper must’ve had.
I don’t know his last name, and that has to be the least of what I don’t know about him. He’s always tight-lipped and secretive. I’m not exactly sure what his job is, but everyone calls him Grandma’s personal assistant…so I do, too.
Grandma is eating eggs Benedict, and the chef offers me the same. I know better than to ask for something else—Grandma doesn’t like it when I don’t go along with the menu, and I’m already on her shit list.
I pour a cup of strong coffee and stir in cream and extra sugar. I’ll need it to deal with what’s to come.
“I understand you’ve pushed back your trip again,” Grandma Shirley says, her voice as cool as a block of marble.
“Yes.”
“I thought whatever you had to do in Italy was too important to consider staying L.A. like I wanted you to.”
“It is.
” I do my best to keep my answers short. Long, involved responses give too many bullets for Grandma to choose from.
Her gaze turns even harder. She loathes not being someone’s first choice. “Why the delay then?”
“It’s only for a few weeks, Grandma.” I put a soft emphasis on “Grandma” and smile the sweetest smile I can manage.
“Did Thomas change his mind?”
“No.” My paternal grandfather Thomas is an artist and one of a few people Grandma can’t control—and therefore disapproves of. He’s seen my work and decided to help me become a painter like him.
“The family foundation is your legacy. It needs you,” she says as the chef brings out my breakfast.
“Thank you,” I say, more to the chef than to Grandma. “The foundation is great, but I’m sure it’ll be fine without me. Besides, I will be leaving for Italy soon.” No way I’m staying in L.A. to do whatever Grandma has in mind. She didn’t insist on any of my brothers or male cousins taking over the family foundation, just the girls in the family. It’s totally sexist in the first place, and anyway, I want to be in charge of my own destiny.
What about Dominic?
I take a quick sip of the coffee to wet my suddenly dry mouth. I’ll have to figure something out. Maybe we can work something long distance, then he can join me in Europe. His sister Kristen is only sixteen, but she’s a year ahead in school. She can study at a university in Europe. There are plenty of great ones there. I’ll even have her tuition paid.
“You should eat your breakfast,” Grandma says.
“I’m not really hungry.”
Her eyebrow twitches ever so slightly. “Elizabeth…we may be Pryces, but we can’t always do what we want.”
“But we can strive to have a life we want, can’t we? Everyone has that right.”
She smiles, her thin lips curving just so. “Youthful optimism. I approve. A Pryce should be at least that ambitious.”
Sudden shivers ripple along my spine. I stand up. “I forgot I have an appointment. I have to go.”
“I hope the appointment was worth delaying your trip, sweetheart.”