“What could go wrong?”
Theo’s laugh was rich and warm.
“There’s the Eleanor, I remember, sharp as attack and twice as dangerous when properly motivated.”
Brandon and Vivien were already seated when we arrived, both looking like they were attending a business negotiation rather than a family dinner, which I suppose they were.
Vivien had clearly spent considerable time on her appearance tonight.
Her makeup was flawless, her hair perfectly styled, and her dress screamed expensive designer.
She looked like she was trying to audition for the role of worthy dinner companion.
“Mom,” Brandon stood as we approached.
His smile strained, but present.
“Mr. Blackwood, thank you for joining us.”
“Thodor,” Theo corrected easily, extending his hand.
“We’re practically family after all.”
I caught the sharp look Vivien shot her husband at that comment.
“Practically family!”
I wondered how they were interpreting that particular phrase.
We were seated at a prime table with a view of the city lights, and I noticed how the staff treated Theo with the kind of deference reserved for very important people.
Menus appeared without being requested.
Wine was suggested and brought with remarkable speed, and the matraee personally ensured our table was perfect.
“This is lovely,” Vivien said, her society smile in full force.
“Eleanor, you look wonderful.”
“That dress is very flattering.”
I almost choked on my water.
Yesterday I’d been too poor and shabby to sit with the family.
Tonight I looked wonderful.
The hypocrisy was breathtaking, even by Viven’s standards.
“Thank you, dear,” I replied sweetly.
“It’s amazing what good company can do for one’s appearance.”
Theo’s hand found mine under the table, a gentle squeeze of approval that sent warmth through my entire body.
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