The Landry Family Series: Part Two

by Adriana Locke

  “When?”

  “This morning. Graham let the cat out of the bag on the way over.”

  “Oh, my God,” I breathe, only imagining that conversation. “Did he give you details?”

  “No. Just that Dominic made some valid points and … I think he made an impression on your brother, Cam.”

  Burying my face in my hands, not even bothering to worry my make-up will smudge, I wonder just what transpired and why no one bothered to tell me. “You know,” I say, dropping my hands, “Graham just went off. I’ve never seen him that mad and I get why. I do. But it was still so … weird.”

  “He’s been that way recently,” she says, her voice dropping. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s rash, temperamental, not the Graham I know. I’m worried about him.”

  “You have no idea what’s wrong?”

  “None.” She looks down, inspecting her perfect manicure. “Maybe he’s trying to figure a way out.”

  “Out of what? A business deal?”

  “Me.”

  The one-word answer is enough to have me reaching for her.

  “Don’t hug me or I’ll cry,” she laughs, batting my hands away playfully. “Besides, it makes me feel all dramatic and I hate dramatic.”

  “Since when?”

  She just laughs in response. “I’m being dumb. I know. He probably has something going on at work and doesn’t want to weigh me down with it. I just need to be patient. This, too, shall pass.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  Looking up, I see Graham watching us from the other side of the room. He looks distinguished with his silver tie and perfect posture, holding a glass of something dark in his hand.

  I flash him a look of shame and he holds his palms out as if to say, “What?” I huff a breath and look back to Mallory. “It’ll be fine. Like you said, just give him some time.”

  “Where’s Dominic?” she asks, not-so-smoothly changing topics.

  “He didn’t want to come.”

  “That’s too bad. We all want to meet him.”

  “Are we talking about Dominic?” Alison says from beside me. She leans forward, kissing my cheek, before pulling back and grimacing. “This pregnancy thing is for young people.”

  “Like you’re old,” I laugh.

  “Much older than I was when I had Huxley,” she admits. “Ellie? Care for some company?”

  “Please,” she says, opening her eyes. “I think I just fell asleep.”

  “Welcome to my world, sister.”

  Sienna comes back with two bottles of water, one for Ellie and one for Alison. Mallory and I chat for a while about yoga and pizza, our two favorite things, before Huxley appears at our side.

  “Miss Camilla,” he says, bowing. “My father would like to speak with you about an urgent matter.”

  “Is that so?” I grin. “You are too cute in that suit, Mr. Huxley.”

  “It’s Mr. Landry,” he winks, “and let’s use ‘handsome,’ please. ‘Cute’ is for kids.”

  “Oh,” I say, making a face at his mother. “Handsome. Yes, Mr. Landry. Please lead me to your father.”

  He offers his elbow, making me giggle. I take it and we wind through the room until we’re in a smaller room to the side. Barrett and Graham are chatting in the middle of the space.

  “Oh, I get both of you?” I sigh, rolling my eyes. “Thanks for the escort, Hux.”

  “No problem.”

  I hear the door swing closed behind me as I look at my two oldest brothers. “What can I do for the two of you?”

  It’s a rhetorical question. The look on Graham’s face tells me exactly what this is about. I shoot him a look and brace myself for another onslaught.

  “Easy, Swink,” Barrett laughs, setting his glass on a table. “You’re getting that killer look in your eye I’ve been hearing about.”

  I shoot another blast of it towards Graham for good measure. They both laugh, which only puts me more on edge.

  “Look, before you two go—”

  “Cam,” Barrett interjects. “Wait a second.” He walks towards me and stops a few feet in front of where I’m standing. “I know about Dominic. I know about Nolan.”

  “He can’t help who he’s related to. Look,” I say, almost frantically, “I know Nolan tried to bomb you, Barrett, and I hate him for that. But Dom—”

  “Stop,” he laughs.

  My shoulder slump as I heave in a breath and watch my brother’s face.

  “Graham and I have been talking about it. I’ll admit, I was pissed off at first. But then, you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I remembered back when I started dating Alison and how annoyed I was at everyone saying she was wrong for me because of what it could do to my campaign. How her background looked crappy, because it did, and how she was a single mother and all that. I remember thinking, ‘Why doesn’t anyone care if I’m happy?’ I almost lost her because of that.”

  “That’s the same thing I’m thinking,” I say, looking over his shoulder at Graham before resting my eyes on Barrett again.

  “If he turns out to be like Nolan, we’ll kill him.”

  “Barrett!”

  “I’m kidding.”

  “I’m not,” Graham says, causing Barrett to shake his head. “And don’t think we don’t know about what happened to his father. We do. Nick Parker found out for us.”

  “You hired a private investigator?” I ask, my jaw dropping. “That’s too far, G. Too far.”

  “Hey, that was Dad’s directive,” Graham says, holding up his hands. “He trumped me on that.”

  “Oh, shit,” I say, looking at the ceiling and fake crying.

  Barrett laughs, moving away and picking up his drink again. “I’ll handle the old man. He’s mellowing out in his old age. I think you’ll be fine.”

  “Mellowing out?” I ask. “Maybe to you! He’s as uptight as ever with me and Sienna.”

  “He remembered when that happened,” Graham says, coming forward. “I guess Nolan had talked about what an asshole his brother was—Dominic’s dad. He said it was better off that he was dead.”

  “But Dom has to live with that,” I point out. “You think that’s easy for him?”

  “It couldn’t be,” Barrett admits. “But Dad will be fine. I got you on this.”

  “Why are you so supportive?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe I’m mellowing out in my old age. Maybe I know how it feels to be in your situation. Either way, I want you happy, Swink, and everyone I’ve talked to says you’re happier than you’ve ever been. Except for Graham. He says you’re meaner,” he winks.

  My heart leaps with joy, tears wetting my eyes. “I am happy, Barrett. I really am. And I’m only mean to G when he deserves it.”

  Before he can say a word, Huxley is opening the door. “Hey, Dad. Mom wants you.”

  “The boss needs me,” he says, shaking my shoulder as he walks by.

  It’s just Graham and I, both fighting a smile. “I heard Dom called you.”

  “Mallory has a big mouth.”

  “That she does. She also told me you’ve been acting weird. Like, weirder than normal.”

  He blows out a breath, leaning on one of the round tables in the room. He starts to talk, then stops.

  “Spill it, G. What’s going on?”

  “Lots of decisions to be made.”

  I bite the side of my cheek, trying not to smile. “The answer is yes.”

  “What answer?”

  “The answer to the question you’re thinking.”

  “How do you know what I’m thinking.”

  “Because you’re my big brother and I spent my entire childhood observing you. Granted, back then it was so I could use that information to my advantage. It’s just handy now too sometimes.”

  “You’re too much,” he scoffs, shoving off the table.

  I shrug. “Okay, so you aren’t wondering whether you’d make a good husband? You aren’t curious, at least a little b
it, whether it’s too early to marry Mallory or if you should wait and be really, really sure? Because this definitely goes against the plan you made when you were ten years old,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  He doesn’t flinch.

  “You are,” I say, wagging a finger at him. “You’re thinking both of those things and the answer to the first is yes, even though you’re a dick, and the answer to the second is no, because you’ll never be more sure than you are right now.”

  “She leaves her clothes on the floor.”

  “Pick them up.”

  “She doesn’t rinse the plates before putting them in the dishwasher.”

  “Does the world come crashing down?”

  “She wants a puppy.”

  “Oh, I’m with you on this one,” I laugh. “Puppies are a lot of work.”

  He cracks a grin. “I just worry … what if I can’t handle it? What if we go into this with different expectations and all of a sudden realize it’s wrong?”

  “That’s impossible,” I scoff, heading to the door.

  “How do you figure?”

  “You love her, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Then how can it ever be wrong?”

  He opens the door for me. “Not bad, little sister. Not bad.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Camilla

  “No, no more champagne,” I say, waving off the proffered glass. “Really. I’ve had enough.”

  The server gives up and heads across the room to my mother and her friends. I watch him offer Paulina a drink and she takes it. Of course she does. I hope she chokes.

  I turn to head to the patio for fresh air when I nearly bump into Daphne and Barron Monroe. Our parents have been acquaintances forever, although I don’t quite have an affinity for Daphne. She’s Barrett’s age, while Barron went to school with Sienna and I. He’s handsome, smart, wealthy … and he knows it.

  “Careful,” he says, steading me by the elbow. He flashes me his best smile—the panty-dropper as Sienna calls it. “How are you tonight, Camilla?”

  “I’m good. Tired,” I admit. “Have you two enjoyed your evening?”

  “Yes, thank you for the invitation,” Daphne says. Or I think she says. It’s a bit of a slur. “I’m going to the patio, Bar-ron. Find me later?”

  “Of course.”

  She leaves us, wobbling on her heels.

  “My sister could use a lesson or two from you about class,” Barron says, pulling out a chair. When I don’t sit, he cocks his head to the side. “You said you were tired.”

  I didn’t plan on sitting, but it suddenly feels like an excellent idea. My feet almost sing as I sit and give them some relief. Barron sits across from me, looking all dapper in his black suit and yellow tie.

  “Look,” he laughs, “we match.”

  “You have good taste.”

  “You are lovely tonight, Camilla. But, then again, you always are.”

  “Thank you,” I blush. “You look handsome, per usual.”

  “So,” he says, getting settled in his chair, “what are you doing next weekend?”

  “Random,” I laugh. “I have no idea. Why?”

  He considers my question, his long, thick lashes on display as he narrows his eyes. “I have a proposition.”

  “Okay. Shoot.”

  “I have to go to Paris for a few days. It’s a long flight and I’ll have some time off to explore the city, and you know, I was thinking it would be fun to do that with you.”

  My mouth hangs open as I try to process this out-of-left-field offer. “Um, Barron, I’m honored you’d like to take me to Paris with you. But the answer is no.”

  “No? Come on, Camilla. Who doesn’t like Paris?”

  “I love Paris,” I laugh. “That’s not the issue.”

  His charm seeps away as his lips form a thin line. “What’s the issue?”

  “I’m in a relationship.”

  His eyes roll in his head. “Oh, yes. I’ve heard about your plumber boyfriend. I just didn’t expect you’d sink that low.”

  “He’s not a plumber,” I fire back, my chest rising and falling much more sharply than before.

  “Does it matter what we call him?” he laughs. “What are you doing with him anyway, Camilla? You’re the talk of the country club and are making a complete ass out of yourself.”

  My chair shoots back as I get to my feet. Leaning forward, my hands planting on the table, I get just inches from his face. “You are the one making a total ass out of yourself. Dominic may not belong to the country club, but he would never talk to me like this.”

  “So he’s a civilized barbarian?”

  “No, that’s me. He would knock your teeth out right now if he were here. I’m the one that will smile politely and ensure everyone at your beloved country club knows that you’ve been screwing the manager since we were fifteen.”

  “Why would you do that?” he growls, getting to his feet.

  “Because I think you love her. Because I think you’ll get kicked out of your precious little club and I think that would be amusing. Does it matter? The fact is, if you want to mess with someone I care about, all’s fair.”

  “Is there a problem here?”

  I whirl around to see my father standing behind me.

  “Everything is fine, Daddy.”

  “Mr. Landry,” Barron gushes, ignoring me, “how are you? It’s so nice to see you this evening.” He extends a hand which my father takes. “How’s business?”

  “My business is fine, thank you for asking.” He gives Barron a nasty look and ushers me away. “What did that little son of a bitch say to you?”

  “Nothing.”

  He chuckles as we stop walking. I look up into his face, a mixture of my brothers. His hair has some grey to it now and the lines in his face are deeper and heavier.

  “You are just like your mother.”

  “How do you figure?” I grin.

  He doesn’t answer, just laughs. “Speaking of which, here comes the devil.”

  Our mother arrives and my father kisses her on the cheek. He whispers something in her ear and takes off across the room toward Graham.

  “This turned out excellent, don’t you think?” she asks, surveying the room.

  “Yeah. Absolutely.”

  “What’s wrong, dear?”

  “It’s been a long week,” I admit. “And then I just had Barron Monroe come up to me and … let’s say I said everything I wanted to say with a smile.”

  “As long as you maintained the smile,” she winks. “How are things with you? You know your siblings talk …”

  “Too much,” I sigh. “I guess you know about Dominic.”

  “I’d love to meet him.”

  I look at her and force a swallow. “I know Paulina and Raquel saw us at lunch the other day, and according to Graham, didn’t say very nice things about him.”

  She considers her words, looking anywhere but at me while she does it. Finally, after I’m about ready to burst into tears, she focuses on me. “We live in a very idyllic world, Camilla Jane. We are blessed that we can avoid a lot of common struggles in life. Now, I could go on and on about why that’s true, about how hard our families have worked and planned and saved, but I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “No, it’s not. I get it,” I say, thinking back to all the ways those things were reiterated to us growing up.

  “It’s very easy,” Mom continues, “to forget what it’s like for other people. When we are sitting in a beautiful home, wearing expensive clothes, eating whatever we’d like, it’s easy to look at those struggling in different ways—because we all struggle, Camilla, and pass judgement.”

  “I think your friends pass judgement incredibly easy.”

  “That they do,” she sighs. “They’re spared in a lot of ways by the exclusivity of our world. If Paulina or Raquel had to wear their sins and mistakes on their clothes, sort of like the way Dominic may display some of the things in his life unwittingly, le
t’s just say they’d be a lot less judge-y.”

  My bottom lip trembles and I let her pull me into a tight embrace.

  “I told both of them that. I explained that if you were happy and healthy and he treated you right, I couldn’t care less about anything else. We then had a quiet conversation about how I’m more concerned about you not sporting black eyes than I am about you wearing diamonds.” She pulls away and wipes away a fallen tear from my cheek. “Don’t spend a minute worrying about them, Camilla. They were probably jealous, if I can read between the lines.”

  Giggling, I dab beneath my eyes and breathe a little easier than I have for a while.

  “Can I meet him?” she asks.

  “That’s probably not going to happen too soon. He and Graham aren’t really seeing eye-to-eye, although I think they’ve called a truce.”

  She places her hand on my shoulder and looks me in the eye. “I raised your brothers to be the men they are. I’m proud of them. Immensely. But sometimes they can get a little …”

  “Overbearing?”

  “Yes. Probably so.” She takes her hand away and plays with her pearls. “I’m going to tell you the same thing I’ve told each of your siblings when they’ve come to me for advice. As long as you’re happy, we’ll adapt. And if you are happy, if you can’t imagine them never lighting up your phone again, you need to hold on to that. It’s precious.”

  “It’s not that easy with him,” I voice. “He doesn’t feel comfortable in places like this. So much of what I do, he doesn’t want a part of. And he doesn’t want me to be a part of his either.”

  “Sounds like your father,” she laughs.

  “Daddy? How?”

  “When we started dating, the man wouldn’t let me near a campaign meeting,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “He said it was no place for a woman like me. Even though I came from that kind of world, as you know, my father being as much of a business man and statesman as his, he tried to shelter me from the ins-and-outs that he saw that maybe I didn’t. It caused some conflict.”

  “How did you fix it?”

  Her smile lights up the room. “Well, first of all, I tried to remember that it came from a good place. Would I have wanted him to show no regard for my safety? No. Of course not. Then I showed him how strong I was. I learned about campaigns, I brought tea and water into the strategy rooms and didn’t flinch. I showed him if this was what he was going to do, which I knew when I started dating him, that I was going to do it too. At least in a support role. Because that’s what makes a relationship, Camilla. The support. The shoulder. The ear that listens. That’s where the love and respect and true collaboration lie. Not in anything else.”