Take It Down A Notch

by Weston Parker

  The knockers on them were actual brass lions, and I shuddered as I let one drop. A butler wearing an honest-to-god five-piece suit swung the door open not a second later, motioning me into the cavernous entrance hall. “Ms. Zeller, I presume? The family is gathered in the parlor. Let me show you the way.”

  The parlor? What is this? Fucking Clue? I snickered quietly to myself as I imagined the outcome of that game. The murderer was the photographer in the parlor with a camera.

  Although, no doubt that if I really did murder one of the Brat Pack—as I’d already labeled them in my head—their loyal subjects would call for my head. It wouldn’t be fair on Tessa and Declan to have to take care of Lawson for me after my head got chopped off, so I supposed even making slightly sinister jokes was a really bad idea.

  Gleaming mahogany floors beneath my feet probably had never been touched by shoes as cheap as mine, and I got a wicked little thrill as I stomped just a little harder on purpose. Just a bit of dirt left behind for you by the peasant.

  I knew I was being silly, but there was something to these tiny little stabs and jabs toward people like these. People like me never got to stand up to them because we couldn’t afford to, so we had to do their bidding.

  Even this photoshoot, if I’d been able to afford turning it down, I would have. I’d have rested on my laurels and refused on principle to come up here to take shots of these people in their castle. But I couldn’t. Tessa was right. It was only a couple of hours. I’d survive.

  What I could do in the meantime was secretly smile about the dirt on their floors from the poor part of town, but then I remembered that they wouldn’t be cleaning it up themselves and probably would never even have known it was ever there.

  Instantly feeling guilty for having caused extra work for someone more like me, I treaded lightly the rest of the way. I heard the family before I saw them, their voices drifting out from the parlor ahead and sounding just as haughty as I’d imagined they would be.

  “Oh, Mother, so what if he doesn’t come?” a snooty, feminine voice asked. She sniffed. “We simply must meet the Adamsons in Europe next month. We haven’t been for almost a year, and you do know how much I love Italy in the springtime.”

  Oh dear. You haven’t been to Europe in almost a year? Poor dear. I rolled my eyes but worked on composing my features as the butler strode out ahead of me.

  We were getting closer to the parlor, and I’d have to face them any second now. A snotty male voice was the next to speak. “I’m confident that he will join us. You know how much he adores the Italian countryside, as well as their women. D—”

  He was cut off by the butler clearing his throat when he entered the room. “Pardon the interruption, but I have Ms. Zeller here for you.”

  “Excellent,” another female voice said, this one older and more delicate than the previous one. It had to be the mother. “Show her in.”

  I’d been about to walk in anyway, but the butler turned and motioned for me to enter now. I came very close to rolling my eyes again, pasting a fake smile on my face at the very last second.

  As soon as I walked into the parlor, complete with chaise lounges, a globe on a wooden stand, and an old-fashioned record player, I slammed to a halt.

  The family waiting for me were possibly the most handsome, beautiful collection of people I’d ever seen together in one room. Their features were striking, the women gorgeous with their sandy-brown hair and deep-set, blazing eyes. The daughter’s were an emerald green that reminded me of Declan’s, but she appeared to have inherited them from the man standing beside her.

  The father, I presumed, as he was older and more distinguished looking. I remembered the information Tessa had given me about him and wanted to congratulate him on being the only one in this room who had achieved something in his life. Then I wanted to stomp on his foot for producing a family who was a representation of everything I hated.

  Only one of the two sons was present, and I wondered if he was the playboy or the failed entrepreneur. From the slightly lecherous smirk he flashed at me, I was guessing entrepreneur. No matter how much money he had, he couldn’t be a playboy.

  The mother stepped forward, extending an elegant hand toward me. “Ms. Zeller, what a pleasure to have you with us this afternoon. I’m Maryanne, and this is my husband Russell.”

  She motioned at the distinguished-looking man first, then pointed at her daughter and son in turn. “This is Daisy and Charles. I must apologize, but we’re still waiting on one more before we can get started. Our son should be here any minute.”

  I nodded, doing my best to bite my tongue and remain polite. “That’s okay. I don’t mind waiting.”

  I’d arrived a few minutes early anyway on Tessa’s insistence that I leave as soon as we were done. As such, I couldn’t bitch about having to wait a little bit, but I sure wanted to. Because of course the playboy, entitled, rich prick was going to make us wait. Honestly, it’s not like you could have expected anything different from him.

  I didn’t even know the guy, but I already disliked him with a passion that bordered on hate. He was the Adam of this family, and I wondered how many children he had running around out there that he didn’t give a single shit about.

  While we waited, I set up my equipment and tried not to listen to the family making conversation. They were exactly what I thought they were: shallow, self-involved, and completely out of touch with the real world.

  I heard the door opening as I was adjusting the pin on my tripod, my tongue peeking out between my teeth as I worked. Maryanne’s voice reached my ears next, suspiciously delighted to announce the arrival of someone she’d been sure would be here anyway.

  “Here’s our son now. Darling, meet Ms. Zeller. She’s our photographer for the afternoon.”

  I sighed internally as I prepared to meet the playboy, turning around as soon as the pin was in place.

  All my breath was knocked out of my lungs when I saw the man who had entered the room. Their son, the playboy… was Declan. Or at least, he was the one walking into the room.

  What. The. Actual. Fuck?

  Chapter 35

  Declan

  My heart leaped into my throat when I walked into the most pretentious room we had in the fucking house and saw who was waiting for me with my family. Blood drained from my face, and for a beat, I felt dizzy.

  No. Nonononononononono. Fuck. Shit. Crap on a fucking cracker. This can’t be happening.

  Raeanne’s hazel eyes met mine, surprise almost instantly replaced by hurt and betrayal so intense that I could almost fucking taste it. Her entire body froze, then trembled almost imperceptibly. But I knew her well enough to see it, and I was watching her closely enough not to miss a thing.

  Unfortunately, that meant that I got treated to the way her hands balled into fists and her jaw tightened. Her chin lifted at the same time as one manicured eyebrow, questions she wouldn’t ask shooting at me as her eyes narrowed on a glare.

  Every fiber of my being was begging to go to her, to hold her and plead with her to hear me out, to tell her a million times that I was sorry and that I’d never intended to make her feel the hurt I saw burning in those beautiful eyes.

  But I schooled my expression and forced my body to keep moving because I couldn’t let my family see that I was borderline falling apart right now. I couldn’t let them see that in that instant, it felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest and my life was toppling like the fucking house of cards it was.

  Mother moved toward me, pulling me into a warm hug that was all for show. “Declan, darling. Are you all right? You look a little pale.”

  “I’m fine,” I assured her, injecting every ounce of calm I could muster into my voice. It came out sounding bored, and when I glanced over at Raeanne, I saw her flinch at the sound of it. “Can we get started? You promised this would only take a couple of hours.”

  I needed to get this done and over with so I could start groveling, do whatever I needed to do to get
Raeanne to listen to me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I also need to find a place to fucking scream.

  Raeanne moved like a robot, as if she’d gone on autopilot and was lost to me forever. Just like that, she’d shut me out. Pain lanced through me, searing my gut. It was all I could do not to double over.

  But I didn’t want to cause a scene, didn’t want my family to know, or they would cause a scene of their own. Finley’s words from last week came crashing into my memory, and I knew that just like him, Raeanne couldn’t afford not to do this shoot or she never would have agreed to it in the first place.

  If my parents were to find out who she was to me, that I was in a relationship with a lowly freelance photographer who just so happened to be taking pictures of us in our house, they’d freak the fuck out.

  Mother was forever preaching about the ulterior motives of the “lower classes” when it came to us. She was likely to believe that Raeanne was a gold digger or had gotten close to me because she was planning on robbing us and that this shoot had been orchestrated to access the house.

  Daisy and Charles would undoubtedly ridicule me for getting involved with someone poor, and that was the last thing I wanted Raeanne to hear right now. Father was the one person who I’d have liked to think might’ve stood with me, but things were still so rocky between us that I just couldn’t risk it.

  All I could do at that moment was to get ready for the fucking photographs and hope that we could get out of here as soon as humanly possible. Mother patted my shoulder before she turned away from me, flashing her charming smile at Raeanne. “I’m so sorry, dear. He didn’t mean to make you feel rushed. We are willing to give you as much of our time as is necessary for you to get some usable photographs for the article.”

  Oh God. Had she always sounded that fucking condescending? Like she accepted that Raeanne wasn’t good enough at her job to be able to get any usable photographs within a couple of hours? Why the fuck would she assume that?

  Finley’s words once more came back to haunt me. Nothing we do is ever good enough.

  Rage, shame, and disgust were like a melting pot in my stomach, but I couldn’t say anything. Raeanne offered my mother a tight smile, then gestured toward the center of the room. “That’s perfectly okay. I’m sure I’ll be able to get plenty of usable shots in no time. You’ve got such a beautiful family that you’ll be doing all the work for me.”

  I could hear the insincerity in her tone, but my mother clearly didn’t. She beamed at us while Raeanne ground her teeth and struggled to maintain her professionalism.

  This is hell. It fucking has to be. I died on the way over here and am now stuck in hell.

  “I’m a model,” Daisy said, pulling back on her shoulders and thrusting her chin into the air. “Can you tell? The camera loves me.”

  “Absolutely,” Raeanne just about squeaked, her voice coming out several octaves higher than usual as she tried to bite back her real reply. “Can you stand closer to your dad please?”

  Daisy fluttered her eyelashes. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to get some individual ones of me first?”

  “We’ll do individual photographs later.” Her voice had climbed another octave. The skin on her neck was bright red, as were the apples of her cheeks.

  Christ, she’s furious and furiously annoyed and somehow still the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment when I realized I couldn’t keep them off her. Father shot me a glance filled with questions. Then something seemed to click, and he rolled his eyes. “You can’t fuck her, Declan. She’s in our employ for the day.”

  I bit my tongue so hard that I tasted metal as my jaw slackened. “Really? Was that necessary?”

  “One never knows what’s necessary with you,” he retorted.

  Mom put her hand to her chest and released the fakest laugh I’d ever heard from anyone. “You two are so hilarious when you banter like that.”

  She exchanged a worried look with my father before turning to face Raeanne once more. “That journalist girl assured us you would sign a nondisclosure agreement before you came. Do you happen to have a copy of that on hand?”

  Raeanne was now so pale she was almost translucent after hearing what my father had said. It made the remaining blotches of redness seem almost vicious. Nodding as she bent over, she grabbed some stapled pages from her satchel and tossed them at my mother.

  Mom caught them without faltering or questioning Raeanne’s behavior at all, immediately relaxing as she ran her eyes across the page. “Very well. Sorry, dear. We can never be too careful. People often tell so many lies about us.”

  I scoffed, covering it up with a cough. Raeanne’s eyes met mine for no more than a fraction of a second. Then they darted away to land on my sister. “So you’re a model? That must be a challenging career.”

  Sarcasm dripped from her tone, but no one else seemed to pick up on it. Daisy smirked at the camera as Raeanne started clicking away while still talking to us.

  “It is extremely challenging, especially since I design the clothing that I model as well. I’m multi-talented.”

  My sister’s boasting made even me want to vomit.

  My mother jumped in then, used to being the one doing most of the talking. “Charles and Daisy both have so many talents. Charles is an entrepreneur, you see. He’s been involved in just about every business you can imagine, and he’s just so good at it.”

  The tightest frown tugged at my brow. “He is? Really?”

  “Oh hush, Declan.” She smiled at Raeanne, a smile that was way too serene for having just shushed me. “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s our problem child. If you have any children of your own, I’m sure you understand. Charles and Daisy are doing something with their lives, but Declan here would have been in jail right now if we hadn’t intervened.”

  Raeanne’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, whatever color was left in her face completely vanishing. “Excuse me?”

  “Yes,” Mother said flippantly, flicking her gaze in my direction. “The only thing he’s doing with his life right now is that Big Brother program. It was mandated by the court after he got arrested.”

  Oh holy fuck. No. Say something.

  It wasn’t like any scene they could cause could be worse than this. But my mouth refused to speak. My brain knew there were these useful little things called words out there but couldn’t seem to land on anything that would explain the truth bomb my mother had just dropped ever so nonchalantly while I’d been planning how to do it for weeks.

  Raeanne visibly balked as she processed my mother’s words, horror filling those hazel eyes before she snapped into action. “I’m sorry, but Tessa will send someone else to finish the shoot if necessary. I’ll forward what I have to her. I can’t do this anymore. I’ve had enough.”

  Within less than a minute, she’d collapsed her tripod and lights, grabbing all her equipment and racing out of the room. It took me a little bit longer to remember how to move. Then I took off after her and ignored my family calling after me.

  “Raeanne!” I shouted when I saw her reach the front door. “Baby! Wait. I can explain.”

  She stopped, whirling around to face me, and for one glorious second, I thought she was actually going to hear me out. But then I realized that there was still pure horror blazing in her eyes and her spine was ramrod straight.

  “Don’t you dare call me that,” she snapped. “I’m not your damn baby and I never was.”

  “If you’ll just—”

  “No.” Her voice was dangerously low, simmering with rage and betrayal. “You’ve had months to explain, but you’ve done nothing except lie to us. I asked you point-blank why you had joined the program, and you looked me right in the eyes and lied. You’re a goddamn criminal, and you don’t want your family to know who I am? No. Just no. Stay away from me and stay away from my son. I’m done, and so are you.”

  She whirled around and ran out of the house, her equipment banging against her l
egs as she got away from me as fast as she possibly could.

  And I let her go, for now.

  Chapter 36

  Raeanne

  “He lied to me about everything, Tessa,” I ranted, pacing up and down the short length of my living room. “If his mother hadn’t called him by it, I’d have wondered if his name is even really Declan.”

  My best friend sat motionless on the couch, her eyes wide and cheeks devoid of any color. “I can’t believe it. I just…” Her mouth opened and closed, shock rendering her speechless for a few seconds before she recovered. “I’m so sorry. I never should have pushed you so hard to enroll Lawson in the program. If I hadn’t, you never would have met him.”

  I gave her a sharp look, slicing my hand through the air. “This is not your fault. The only person at fault here is Declan.”

  “I just thought that the program leader vetted the participants better than that, you know?” She shook her head slowly, as if what we were discussing couldn’t be true. “Why would he lie about who he is anyway?”

  My mind raced. I’d been asking myself that question over and over again for the last twenty-four hours, give or take an hour or so. I had so many questions and no way to answer them, unless I called Declan and demanded the explanation he’d tried to give me.

  I didn’t want to talk to him, though. It wasn’t like I could trust a single word coming out of his lying mouth anyway.

  I pulled my shoulders up and tipped my head toward the ceiling. “I have no idea why he would lie about anything, let alone lie about everything.”

  Dragging a deep breath of smoke-tinged air into my lungs, I stared at the remaining embers of the fire. It was probably one of our last for this season, and I couldn’t wait for it to die. Too many of our fires this winter had been made by Declan. Too many of the nights we’d spent together had been in front of the dancing flames.