Page 33 of Shattered Saint
As we continued to discuss the Beaumonts' recent travels, I couldn't help but feel jealous. I wished that I could have the chance to travel more. I made a mental note to myself that the next opportunity I got, I was going to go somewhere I’d never been before. Maybe I could convince Iris to go with me.
"Good evening, everyone."
I turned to face the newcomer and mumbled a curse under my breath.
Diana Caldwell, the other candidate running for mayor of Brentson this election cycle, joined our conversation. I didn’t know if it was my bias about her, but her smile seemed sharp and calculating. Her gaze stayed on Tristan for a little longer than necessary before it landed on me before she spoke. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation about traveling. Have you ever considered joining one of those volunteer programs abroad? They're all the rage among young people these days, or so I've heard."
"Actually, I have," I replied cautiously, aware of Diana's ability to twist someone’s words to benefit herself. I also thought it was interesting that she didn’t list any of these volunteer programs by name. "It’s something I want to look into, but I haven’t had the opportunity to yet. I’ve been staying closer to home to be near my family.”
"Of course," Diana agreed, but I could tell that she didn’t give a shit. "Family is important, after all. And speaking of families, Oliver, Amelia, how was your trip to Italy?"
"Delightful," Mrs. Beaumont responded, though I could see the hesitance in her gaze. "The Amalfi Coast is truly stunning."
“I completely agree,” Tristan added.
"Ah, yes," Diana said as her eyes narrowed slightly. "Maybe I'll have to plan a trip there myself once this election is over."
I thought it was interesting that Diana had taken over the conversation, much like she preferred to do whenever she entered the room. I glanced at my father who was quietly chatting with Mr. Beaumont, but Dad wasn’t completely oblivious. I saw him glancing at Diana out of the corner of his eye. While he tried to control his emotions, I could see that her being here was annoying him.
As the conversation continued, I found myself growing more and more uncomfortable because I could feel Diana watching me. Our conversation became more tense because it felt as if I was in a tennis match as I watched Diana attempting to show us all up and the rest of us trying to avoid confrontation. This conversation was exhausting, and I needed to get out of here. I watched as my dad and Tristan left, and Mr. Beaumont rejoined the group. I couldn’t help but wish that was also me.
"Diana, it's been so long since we've seen you," my mother interjected, her voice steady and not betraying any of the thoughts running through her mind. "You simply must tell us about that new project you're spearheading. We were chatting about the revitalization of downtown earlier today weren't we, Bianca?"
I wanted to mumble bullshit under my breath, but I controlled the urge.
"Actually, Mom," I said, noticing that if I wanted to get out of this situation, I needed to make my own escape plan. "I think I left my phone in my coat. I should go grab it." I gave her a weak smile in hopes that she would get the hint that I didn’t want to be involved in this discussion anymore.
"Bianca, don't worry about your phone," she insisted, her eyes flickering with concern. "Stay and chat with everyone."
"Really, Mom, I should grab it. I need to tell Easton that we need to study for our upcoming psychology exam soon and I don’t want to forget again." It was a flimsy excuse and a complete lie, but if it worked, then so be it.
"Ah, Easton," Diana chimed in. "I didn’t know he was taking a class in psychology. I wonder if he plans on pursuing something in the field once he graduates."
I’d had enough. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, everyone," I said, forcing a polite smile on my face as I moved away from the group. With every step I took away from them, the knot in my chest loosened. In the end, I had to thank my mom for speaking up or else I would still be there.
"Whew," I muttered under my breath. Diana’s slight fascination with Easton was interesting. I wondered if it was because his parents were there or if she had an actual interest in him. For what, I had no idea. It took some shuffling, but I managed to make it over to my coat to collect my phone. The next place I wanted to go was to find a quiet room where I could take the time to recharge for a moment, because I needed it after dealing with Diana for so long.
Ignoring the feeling I was getting, I focused once again on making my way through all the guests that were standing in the hallway as I tried to put as much distance as possible between myself and the woman who threatened not only my father's political career but peace for my family.
I walked down a hallway that was less crowded and came to a door that was slightly ajar. I thought I could hang out in here, but when I heard voices on the other side of the door, I stopped and decided to eavesdrop. My mouth dropped open when I recognized both my father’s voice and Nash’s. What were they doing here?
"…The Chevaliers," I caught from my father, his tone laced with concern.
My heart skipped a beat, and I leaned closer as I tried to make out what was being said. The Chevaliers was a secret society that the men in my family had been a part of for generations. While I knew some things about it, for the most part, it was only from pieces of conversations that I’d been able to build a small picture of what it was. But why would Dad and Nash be discussing anything related to it here?
Nash cleared his throat and said, "I know you're worried about this, Dad, but I can handle it. This is what we agreed on me doing when I first joined, and if the opportunity presented itself."
"Can you?" my father replied sharply. "You're putting yourself at risk by doing this, Nash. Not to mention our whole family."
I couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually talking about our family or if he was referring to his mayoral race.
"I can handle this, Dad. Trust me,” Nash said. I could hear some irritation in his voice as he seemed to be getting annoyed with our father.
"Handle this?" There was a brief pause before my father continued, his voice softer, tinged with sadness. "I thought I had everything under control once too. And then I failed."
"No offense, but I’m not you. I have a shot at this, and I want to take it. I need to do this. Plus, I assume things are different now. We've learned from where things went wrong in the past."
"Have we?" My father sighed, and I guess he realized that he would be wasting his breath trying to convince Nash otherwise. "I hope you're right, Son. You need to be careful," my father said.
