Page 23 of Bad Influence
“I can’t have Caroline here. I like my peace.”
“How is she disrupting your peace? Is she really loud?” Gran asks.
Her presence is.
“No, she’s not loud. She’s…” I don’t want to go down this path with my grandmother again because I already know her opinion on this matter. “Doesn’t she have a wedding to prepare for? A wild bachelorette party to throw?”
The silence is loud and longer, ringing down the line. It makes me pause. I look back at Caroline through the window and watch her giggle over something Eve is showing her on her phone. Something about this whole situation is off.
“Gran, is there a wedding?”
Before Gran can reply, my mother interrupts. I hear her voice in the distance, asking her if Gran is still planning on staying for lunch. For a second, I think she’s going to ask who Gran is speaking with and I’ll be forced to speak with my mother. I haven’t talked to her in months, not since she called to confirm if I was coming for the wedding. But her voice fades away quickly.
“I should go before Julia tells the cook to put rat poison in my food,” Gran says. “How are you, darling? Last time we spoke, you were having trouble finding inspiration to paint.”
Why does no one want to talk about this wedding?
“I’m fine,” I answer, even though the subject change frustrates me.
“You’re painting again?”
“Yes.”No.
“That’s good. I’d love to come see your exhibit,” Gran says.
She always says the same thing and she’s never visited. She, more than anyone in my family, understands I don’t want anypart of my life mixing with theirs. If she comes, it’s going to be another thing my mother holds against her and me.
Not that there’s going to be an exhibit since I haven’t painted anything to showcase in months.
“I have to go,” I tell her.
“Of course,” she acquiesces. There’s a pause, and then, “Think before you act, darling. I’m sure the answers will come to you.”
With that cryptic message, she hangs up, while I’m still wondering what I’m going to do next.
CHAPTER 9
Caroline
I havethirty missed calls and about twice as many messages and emails. Apparently, I’m insulting Beckett and the Yorks. Do I realize how embarrassing it is for them that I’ve left without a word, months before our wedding? Do I realize how lucky I am that he wants to marry me after everything I did? I’m not going to find anyone as forgiving as him.
He’s right about that last one. I’m definitely not going to find another man who loves his reputation so much that he won’t publicly admit to being stabbed by his fiancée in the ass because she caught him fucking his assistant in his office. I truly was so lucky.
My mother is texting me like everything is fine and I’m just taking a short trip because all her messages focus on the wedding.
The only person behaving somewhat normally in my messages is my brother, Carter.
Carter
Mom is losing her mind. Dad is pretending that everything is fine but he broke a cup yesterday.
Will you be back in time to handle the Matheson case or should I assign it permanently to someone else?
Did you really stab Beckett in the ass?
Can you please tell me you’re okay?
The last message stares back at me as I sit at the front counter of Black Ember Ink. It’s quiet except for the people waiting for Eve and Killian to finish with their current clients. Behind me, I can hear the whir of the tattoo gun.
