by JA Huss
“It’s a goddamned castle,” Wald mutters.
The driveway curves around a fountain with a statue of a knight on a horse in the center and off to the side of the house, on yet another pretentious expansive lawn, there are what seems to be hundreds of people putting up a tent the size of a pavilion.
“What the hell is that?” Brooke asks.
“No clue,” I say.
“Maybe someone’s getting married this weekend?” Huck offers. “It kinda looks like that size of a party.”
Wald brings the truck to a stop in front of the main entrance and we watch the massive double doors open and a small team of servants spill out and line up on the steps.
“I’m a little out of my league here,” Brooke admits.
“You and me both,” Huck agrees.
Four of them—footmen, I deduce—approach the car and pull open our doors. Then one older man, probably the house steward, stands and smiles as we all get out. Brooke is on the side closest to the house, so I walk around and take her hand.
“Welcome to the Kane family estate,” he says, making direct eye contact with me.
I’m suddenly glad Wald insisted we all dress up. The three of us are in suits and Brooke is wearing another version of her Bright Berry Beach skirt suit she wore to her interview.
“Thank you,” I say. “These are my friends, Wald Wynn and Huck Newtown. And this is my… fiancée, Miss Brooke Alder.”
The house steward bows his head just a smidge and says, “I’m Thomas. Very nice to meet you all. If you’d like to come with me I will take you to meet Mr. Conner while the footmen take care of your vehicle and bags.”
“Mr. Conner?” I ask. “Where are the Kanes?”
“They’re all here as well. We’re very busy planning a party for tomorrow. So everyone is scattered. But Mr. Conner has made time in his day to see you.”
“Great,” I say, shooting Wald a look over my shoulder.
He responds with an expression that I know well. Behave, that look says. The Kanes appear to take their pageantry seriously.
We follow him into the house. And what can I say about the house? It’s as massive and imposing on the inside as it is on the outside.
Brooke squeezes my hand as I look around.
I grew up in this world. I know for a fact that my family has more money than the Kanes. We own an entire building in downtown. It’s even named after us. The Boston Building, more commonly called the Bossy. And the top five floors were private. Meant only for us.
Well, and two hundred of our closest supporters, apparently.
I know what wealth is. Money isn’t something I think about on a daily basis.
But this is over-the-fucking-top grandiose and my heart hurts a little for my daughter. What kind of home is this castle?
Thomas stops at a large set of double doors and then opens them in that fanciful way you only see in period movies.
“Mr. Connor,” Thomas says. “Your guests have arrived.”
And there he is. The man playing father to my daughter.
He’s standing in front of the large windows backlit by the sun. The sheer white curtains billow around him as he turns.
“Joey Boston,” he says with a smile. He steps forward with an outstretched hand and I have to let go of Brooke to shake it. “It’s… nice to meet you. Finally.”
“Yeah,” I say, looking around, hoping for a glimpse of Maisy.
But she’s not here. There’s a grand piano in the corner, three different sitting areas, a round table set for afternoon tea, and a large white dog lying on a rug who doesn’t even bother to lift his head or wag his tail.
“Thanks for having us,” I say.
“This must be Brooke,” Conner says, pulling out of our greeting to take her hand and kiss her knuckles.
I glance at Wald, who is still shooting me that behave warning.
“You’re even prettier in person than you are in your pictures.”
“Pictures?” Brooke says.
“And you must be Wald,” Conner says, ignoring Brooke’s questioning response. “And Huck.” He shakes hands with each of them. “Nice to finally meet you all.”
“I’m sorry,” Huck says. “I’m at a disadvantage here. Who are you?”
Michael Conner barely reacts. He’s tough, I’ll give him that. But there is a reaction. Stiffness. Like Huck’s question was an affront. “Michael,” he says. “Conner. Maisy’s father.”
Huck laughs and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Yeah, OK. So…” He looks around. “Where is she?”
Michael looks at me and says, “You’ll see her soon. But I thought we could have tea first.” He turns to Brooke. “Do you like afternoon tea, Miss Alder?”
Brooke just shrugs. She is definitely out of her league here.
“Where’s the family?” I ask.
“I’m representing them today,” Michael says.
“And who are you again, exactly?” This time it’s Wald. “Because the whole reason we’re here is because you really aren’t Maisy’s father.”
Michael looks at me. “I married Charlotte four years ago.”
“OK,” I say.
“We had a daughter. We have a daughter. Aside from Maisy.”
“Oh,” I say. “I didn’t realize that.”
“No. No reason you should. All that going on out there,” he says, panning his hand to the window, “is for her birthday party. It’s tomorrow. So… while I’m glad you’re here for Maisy’s sake, it was rather inconvenient timing.”
“Sorry about that,” I say. “I didn’t choose the day Maisy pressed my contact in someone’s phone. That is how she got a hold of me, right?”
He nods, but says nothing.
“And she knew who I was.”
“She doesn’t know you’re her father.”
“Then who does she think I am? Because she called me Joey.”
“She thinks you’re her mother’s close friend. She was hoping you knew where Charlotte was.”
“Her friend,” I say.
“You have to understand. You haven’t been here. I’ve been here. Maisy has a little sister now. We’re a family.”
“She’s not your kid,” Huck growls.
“Maybe not biologically, but…” He looks at me. “She is my daughter.”
“So what do you want?” I ask. “Why am I here?”
“I want you to make the right choice.”
“And what?” Wald interjects. “Walk away?”
Michael Conner shrugs. “That could be the right choice. But it doesn’t have to be. I guess you’ll know better once you meet her.”
“Which should happen now,” I say. “I’m here. She’s here. This is why we came. Where is she?”
He clenches his jaw and turns his back to me. Walks over to the window. “I think you and I should see her alone.”
I look at Wald. He shrugs. Huck says nothing. Brooke says, “Can we go outside for a walk? I’d like to see your gardens.” And I’m instantly reminded that she can read a room and work it better than anyone I’ve ever met.
Michael turns to look at her. Then Huck. Then Wald. And finally lands on me.
We’re intimidating. And I’m not saying that Michael Conner is someone who cowers by any means. I’m just saying that Wald Wynn, Huck Newtown, Joey Boston, and Brooke Alder have a presence. We take up space in a room. We’re like a wall. As solid as the stone this mansion is made of.
And I don’t think he was expecting that.
“Of course,” Michael says in a low voice. “Make yourself at home. They’re really quite beautiful in the summer.”
Brooke looks at me, then takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “You’ll be OK,” she says, nodding. “We’ll be right outside if you need us.”
Huck grabs my shoulder and squeezes it. Wald sizes up Michael and then turns to follow Huck and Brooke out the way we came.
And then it’s just us.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - BROOKE
The Thomas guy is waiting in the hallway when we leave Joey with his new nemesis. “We’re going outside to the gardens,” Wald tells him. “Can you show us the way?”
“Follow me, please,” Thomas says with a smile.
It’s kind of a ridiculous ask. Can you show us the way? But necessary. Because this place is the size of a small town. I didn’t even know there were gardens, I just assumed. Because I didn’t see any driving up and there were none in view out that huge window back there.
“That Conner guy is a prick,” Huck mumbles.
“Quiet,” Wald cautions in a low voice. “This isn’t about us. Don’t antagonize people, Huck. It won’t help matters.”
“There’s gonna be a fight, isn’t there?” I ask.
“Did you really imagine it any other way?” Wald asks. “People get attached to their children.”
“Not all people,” I say.
Huck takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. And I’m suddenly so relieved that they are here with us. Because the original plan was for Joey and I to come alone. Where would I be right now if that was the case?
I shudder.
We stop at a wall of French doors. That’s the only way to describe it. Six sets of them lined up on the far side of a large room. All leading out to the same large expanse of terrace. And beyond that, yes. Gardens. The kind of gardens you see on the grounds of British palaces. Or museums. Or… castles. Like this one.
“There are several of them. If you follow the path to the right it will lead you to the garden loop and you’ll get a good view of all the gardens from that vantage point. Just watch out for horses. The Kane girls are riding today.”
“Of course,” Wald says. “And thank you.”
Thomas looks at Huck and I. Specifically at our hands, which are still clasped together. Then he nods and backs away.
“Shall we?” Wald sighs.
So we shall.
We go outside and walk down about two dozen stone steps. They are long steps. More of a staircase, if you will. And they lead to a path covered in smooth, round pea pebbles that crunch under my feet as we head to the right. The garden loop it is.
“So…” Wald says, breaking our silence.
“Yeah,” Huck says. “I mean, I knew they had money, but for fuck’s sake. Hide a little bit of it, at least.”
“Right?” Wald laughs.
“I don’t hate him,” I say.
“Who? Conner?” Huck asks. “I do.”
“Why not?” Wald asks.
“I dunno. I think he was making a point,” I say.
“Yeah, that he has Joey’s daughter and if we think we’re taking her away, there’s gonna be a fight.”
“That,” I say. “But also… he made a point about the little sister.”
“New twist for sure,” Wald says.
“It was an asshole move if you ask me,” Huck says. “Meant to guilt Joey into walking away. Into letting bygones be bygones.”
“Maybe,” I say. “Or he loves them both. It could be as simple as that.”
“Unlikely,” Huck says. “I know his type.”
“We just met him,” I say. “We should give him the benefit of the doubt. At least until we have proof that he’s being selfish and not simply looking out for Maisy’s best interest.”
“You’re too trusting,” Wald says.
Huck, still holding my hand, gives it another squeeze. “I like that about you.”
And that makes me glow inside.
“On your left!” someone shouts behind us. And then suddenly a thundering of hoofbeats fills the air and we all turn and sorta stumble off the path as four young girls go racing by on horseback.
One shouts, “Sorry!”
Then another yells, “So, so sorry!”
And they giggle as they disappear into the trees just as quick as they came.
I just look at that spot in the woods for three or four whole seconds. Trying to fit that scene into my new reality so it makes some sort of sense. Trying to put myself into the tall, expensive riding boots of those girls.
I consider the idea that everything is a lie. That this is a scam. That we’re being set up for something. Because so far everything in my life has been one set up after another. And mostly that was all me. I did the setting up. Hell, we’re here, lying to these people, so why wouldn’t they lie to us?
But giggling teenage girls racing along a garden path on horseback wouldn’t be part of the scam. If they were, they’d have stopped to make sure they made an impression. Not just raced by to let us form an impression on our own.
No. That’s too risky.
Because our impression could be good—they look happy and normal having their summertime fun.
Or bad—they are some rich, pretentious, thoughtless girls and we almost got trampled by a herd of pedigreed thoroughbreds.
And when you run a con this big—because if this is a con, then it’s fuckin’ huge—you don’t leave anything to chance.
So that was real.
“Hm,” I say. Forming my impression. “They seem very happy here.”
Neither Huck, nor Wald say anything to that.
We continue to walk, going into the woods after the girls on horseback, and then come out in a high meadow that overlooks the estate down below.
“Damn,” Wald says. “Like, OK. I’m not usually impressed by displays of wealth. But… damn. That is some view.”
“Yeah,” Huck says, wiping a hand across his brow. It’s hot out here and we’re all dressed up. “I’m not gonna lie, this… I don’t know. This was not really what I was expecting.”
I glance around, taking it all in. The tall, mature forest surrounding the mansion and the grounds like a legion of soldiers. The many, perfectly planned gardens and pathways leading through them. The house, of course. Stately and imposing, but not in an off-putting way.
“Look,” I say. “There’s stairs over there. And they’re covered. Wanna go that way? At least we’ll be out of the sun until we get back down to the bottom level.”
They both agree and we head to the covered stairs. They’re wooden and every two flights there’s a… rest area, for lack of a better word. With a bench seat in case you get tired or just want to stop and look around. Something you’d see leading down to a boat dock on a lake. Something that says a lot of thought and care went into the design.
I’m starting to think that everything about this place was well thought out. The guards at the front seemed excessive, but if you had put all that thought into the house, and the grounds, and the woods, and the driveway, wouldn’t you put just as much thought into making sure it was secure?
And that guard. Even he displayed thoughtfulness when he leaned in and said hello. Granted, none of us knew what to do with that gesture at the time. But if he waves goodbye when we leave, I think I’ll wave back.
The stairs lead to a grassy lawn criss-crossed with pea-pebbled paths and hundreds of perfectly manicured rose bushes.
The scent alone is to die for.
We hear laughing off to our right and when I look over there’s a small white gazebo filled with middle-aged women having tea. This is no picnic. I’m talking white tablecloth and fine china. And they are all wearing pastel-colored dresses with hats, leaning forward towards the center of the table like they are telling secrets.
Huck, and Wald, and I exchange a look, but continue walking and soon we’re coming upon the house again.
I look up at it. Wondering how many people live here. Wondering what it’s like to have a life like this. Wondering if Maisy is happy.
And then I see her.
Up in a window on the third floor of the mansion.
At least I think it’s her. I guess it could be anyone. There could be dozens of little girls living here.
But somehow I know it is her.
She waves at me.
I raise my hand and wave back, smiling and feeling a sudden surge of joy. Because this place, these people… it’s… it’s somethin
g romanticized. Maybe even something fictionalized. Or something right out of that movie A Room with a View.
Except there are armed guards at the gate.
But this is real. This house, these gardens, those giggling girls, and those gossiping ladies.
It’s all real.
And this is the place that Maisy Kane calls home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - JOEY
Conner is silent after Wald, Huck, and Brooke leave. He stares at me for a moment. Possibly a moment too long.
“What?” I finally ask, breaking the silence.
“I’m trying to figure you out,” he says.
“Well, that makes two of us.”
“Oh. Are you trying to figure me out? Or trying to figure you out?”
I crack a smile for two reasons. One, it didn’t seem facetious. And two—“Both,” I say.
Conner nods. Then takes a deep breath and says, “She’s a very sweet little girl.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I say.
“Charlotte wasn’t…” He pauses, considers something. “Well, let’s be honest here. It’s possible motherhood is not one of her callings. And I do not for one moment think she is dead.”
“No?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “She left, Joey. She left.”
“So she faked her death?”
“Possibly,” he says. “Or alternatively, she just crashed the boat and someone picked her up and… and now she’s on the other side of the world drinking, or partying, or fucking people.”
“You don’t seem to have a high opinion of her,” I say.
“Do you?”
“I don’t really have an opinion of her at all, to be honest. I’m not here for her. I’m here for Maisy.” He opens his mouth to say something but I continue before he can speak. “I wanted to stay. I’d like to make that clear before this conversation goes any further. She had another boyfriend when Maisy was born. She wasn’t interested in me or my offer to take care of them. She changed her number and disappeared. So I bowed out gracefully. If I had known…”
I let the sentence trail off.
“Understood.” Conner sighs. He pulls his phone out and taps the screen. “I’m having her governess bring her down now.”