Page 49 of Shattered Crown
"What do you mean, not comfortable?"
"She feels... judged. Criticized. She told me that you spend all your time with Xavier or Mother, and she feels invisible." I mether eyes. "She didn't want to come to dinner. She asked me to make an excuse."
My grandmother was silent for a long moment. Her teacup sat forgotten on the side table. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. "I see."
"I should have told you sooner. I'm sorry."
"No." She straightened in her chair, that familiar steel returning to her spine. "No, this is unacceptable. If Evie feels that way, it's because I haven't made enough effort. That changes now." She reached for the small bell on the table beside her. "I'm going to pick her up from that foundation today. We'll spend the afternoon together. Get to know each other properly."
I opened my mouth to object. To explain that Evie was in the middle of health fair preparations, that she had commitments, that springing a grandmother-visit on her without warning would only make things worse.
Then I stopped.
What the hell. I didn't have to put out every fire. Maybe this was exactly what they both needed—a chance to actually connect, without me or anyone else mediating. Evie was stronger than I gave her credit for. And my grandmother, for all her sharpness, genuinely loved her great-granddaughter.
"Fine," I said. "But don't push her. Let her set the pace."
My grandmother's expression softened. Just slightly. "I raised three children and helped raise you, Sebastian. I think I can manage one afternoon with a twelve-year-old."
I wasn't entirely convinced, but I'd learned long ago that arguing with Eloise Dubois was an exercise in futility.
When I finally left, the evening had turned soft and golden, with that particular quality of light that made even Manhattan look gentle. I had calls to make, documents to review, a suitcase that needed packing. But for a moment, I just stood on the sidewalk outside my grandmother's brownstone and breathed.
Tomorrow, I was going to be four thousand miles away from everything complicated in my life.
I planned to enjoy every second of it.
I’d asked Isabelle to come stay while I was gone. She arrived the morning of my flight, overnight bag in hand, looking like she'd stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine despite it being four in the morning.
"Thank you for doing this," I said as she dropped her bag in the guest room.
"You don't have to thank me. I love spending time with her." She paused, giving me that perceptive look she'd inherited from our grandmother. "Safe travels, Sebastian."
Evie was waiting in the foyer when I came downstairs with my briefcase. She was still in her pajamas, looking terribly sleepy.
"Bye, Dad." She stepped forward and hugged me, arms wrapping around my waist without hesitation. I pulled her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"I'll call tonight," I said. "After my meetings."
"Okay." She pulled back, smiling up at me. "Good luck with the hotel thing."
"I'll be back before you know it."
The flight was long. Twelve hours of ocean below and documents on my laptop screen. Margaret called somewhere over the Pacific with final updates: dinner with Mr. Kahale confirmed for tonight, contract revisions completed, and the heritage preservation clause finalized per his requirements.
"He's already turned down seven acquisition offers," she reminded me. "The approach should focus on continuity. He needs to believe you'll protect what he's built."
"Send me the talking points again. I'll review them before we land."
"Already in your inbox, sir."
The jet began its descent just after two in the afternoon local time. I watched through the window as the island materialized below—green mountains rising from blue water, white lines of waves breaking against reefs, the sprawl of civilization hugging the coastline.
A driver was waiting on the tarmac when we touched down, an older Hawaiian man, silver at his temples, dressed in a crisp white shirt and pressed dark slacks. He carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone who'd been doing this work for decades.
"Mr. Dubois." He extended his hand, his grip firm and professional. "Welcome to Maui. I'm Keoni. Mr. Kahale asked me to bring you to the hotel personally."
"Thank you, Keoni."
