Ruthless Noble by Alley Ciz
CHAPTER 13
The endless streamof text messages from Tessa teasingly quizzing me about What is this fork used for? or How about this tiny spoon? has helped put an entertaining spin on tonight’s dinner at the Delacourtes. I can’t even with this chick, but it’s one of the reasons I love her the way I do.
That said, I could do without all the colorful commentary she tosses in about the whole me being engaged thing. If I get one more picture about a bridesmaid dress she likes, I’m going to officially excommunicate her from being my maid of honor when I’m engaged for real in the future.
When I’m not texting with Tessa, I’m talking to Mitchell.
It’s probably petty, but I do enjoy how it seems to rankle Natalie whenever Mitchell actually shows interest in my life. Even now, as Daniel drives us in Mitchell’s custom Becker Cadillac Escalade ESV to the celebratory engagement dinner the Delacourtes invited us to (you bet your ass I’ll be mentally rolling my eyes all night), he peppers me with questions about yesterday.
I ended up keeping my word and attended the BP homecoming game while Mitchell went to cheer on his alma mater.
My whole night was spent with a giggling Tessa who was all, “This is a first. Normally people want to use you for the connection to your brother, not mine.”
So while my football-watching experience was sprinkled with calls to JT Taylor to tease him about his place in their crazy family’s hierarchy, Mitchell’s was filled with all kinds of stories about the mass automobile relocation prank.
“I can’t believe you participated in such childish antics, Samantha.” Natalie doesn’t bother to look at me while she issues her opinion. Her focus remains on the flat-screen above my head.
Yeah, you heard that right. There’s a freaking thirty-two-inch flat-screen hanging on the back wall. The whole vehicle is money, and if Mitchell didn’t need it for when he travels for work, I’d ask if Daniel could drive me to school in it.
The interior is done in snow white leather with polished black accents. The four chairs are configured to face each other, with Mitchell and Natalie’s able to fully recline and footrests that rise out of the floorboards.
There’s a glass-doored mini fridge and more amenities than should be in something on four wheels.
Natalie is living her best life in the lap of luxury, and this one time, we can agree. It’s almost, almost enough to make me forget about where we’re being driven to.
“It’s a rite of passage, dear.” Mitchell gives Natalie’s hand a squeeze while sending me an affectionate smile. “Though maybe we can work on Savvy using her powers to help BA plan their next one instead.” The fact that Mitchell has switched over to calling me Savvy when Natalie still vehemently refuses to do so has me close to agreeing.
“I wouldn’t bet on it.” What? I said it has me close toagreeing, not that I actually would.
I may have told Mitchell how much I appreciated that he helped arrange for me to stay at Carter’s for the week after my major asthma attack, but I certainly didn’t tell him the truth about why it benefited me the most. I let him believe it was being surrounded by the familiarity that would help keep my symptoms from flaring. Plus, I pointed out that I wouldn’t be alone much since all the Royals have rooms there.
In the long run, it feels more like using a Band-Aid to treat a bullet wound, but any reprieve from Natalie is well worth grasping hold of. That right there is where the lie comes into play. For some god-awful reason, Mitchell seems to actually love the Momster. I don’t think he would like to hear how his bride can spike my anxiety in ways no one else manages to do.
At first, it didn’t make sense to me. I’m not saying we’ve spent our time having grand stepfather/stepdaughter bonding sessions, but how can a man who seems genuinely kind be married to Satan’s mistress?
I wanted to chalk it up to him being pussy-whipped, but the more time I’ve spent with Natalie while in Mitchell’s presence, the more I’ve understood. The way Natalie can portray herself as not only a good mother but a decent human being is eerie. Poor Mitchell doesn’t know that his bride is more black widow spider than Homo sapiens.
As much as I want to warn him, I have my own battles to fight with his wife. I’ll have to trust he can take care of himself.
“Oh, Mitchell, don’t encourage her.” Natalie slides a hand over his knee, and I look away before the water I’ve been drinking makes a reappearance. I don’t need to witness the gold digger at work, thank you very much. “Carter’s influence is bad enough.”
I ignore the dig against my brother. It helps that I’m annoyed with him for abandoning me tonight. It’s time for us to have it out. We’re well overdue for a little sibling heart-to-heart, and if he tries to avoid it like every other attempt I’ve made to talk to him alone, he has another thing coming. I’m not afraid of a little Royal Rumble.
“Nonsense, sweetheart.” Mitchell links his fingers with Natalie’s to soften the blow of his disagreement while keeping his focus on me. “Tell me…how did you pull it off?”
“You mean…you want me to give away all my secrets?”
After a quick glance at the television to check the score of the U of J football game, Mitchell leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees and—I kid you not—a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. It’s moments like these where I get a peek at the playful side hidden beneath the hotel titan that make me seriously question how he ended up married to Natalie of all people.
“Maybe not all…just this one?” He holds up a single finger. “We are family—can’t I cash in on that to get a peek into the brilliance I’m sure it took to orchestrate a prank of this magnitude?”
My heart gives an unfamiliar squeeze. He’s playing the family card? Sure there’s something he wants, but he didn’t use it as a guilt trip. No…it was more like a…claim. Plus, the compliment he threw in at the end doesn’t hurt.
“Fine.” I shift so I’m mirroring his position across the short space between us. “But…if I tell you…” I pause, letting the silence build both the anticipation and the…seriousness of my own question.
“Yes?” There’s this almost giddy excitement I’m only used to experiencing with adults like Chuck and his older brother Anthony.
“You have to promise not to spill the beans to Headmaster Woodbridge the next time you guys play a round of golf.”
Could the prank get me expelled? Maybe. It’s sort of a gray area. We didn’t technically break any rules. And let’s be real—even if I did get expelled, it’s not like I would actually care. I didn’t want to be at BA to begin with.
But you wouldn’t get to see Jasper every day if you went back to BP,my conscience points out.
Like I care,I think in an attempt to convince myself I don’t. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t work.
“Deal.” Mitchell stretches a hand out for me to shake, full businessman mode. Except I can’t imagine the tilt to his lips helps him much in the boardroom.
“Well…” I stall, considering how much to divulge about my part in the prank. The disapproving sneer painted on Natalie’s face as she studies us out of the corner of her eye confirms that yes, yes I will tell.
“So this year, things were a little bit different because BP had someone on the inside.” I bounce my eyebrows up and down like I’m my favorite Charlie Chaplin GIF.
“I’ll be sure to check the mail for my thank you card for making that happen.”
Oh, he’s got jokes. Seriously, how did he end up married to my Momster?
“I ordered specialty stationery and everything,” I say with complete confidence.
I do my best to keep some of the details vague to protect the innocent—aka our motley crew of BP pranksters—while I tell him how we snuck into the athletes-only locker room and helped ourselves to any car keys we could find. Until I started at BA, I, one, didn’t know they have a locker room that is specific for their jocks, and two, didn’t know the football team and hockey team work out together for an hour and a half every morning before school starts.
I always assumed Jasper beat me to school because he lived in the dorms, but that’s not the case. And let me tell you…the eye roll Duke gave me when I questioned how he was able to pick me up my first day back would have made Kay proud with its intensity. Guess it’s a perk of being the governor’s son.
I go as far as to pull my phone out to show Mitchell the aerial shot I took from the school’s roof that showed off the large BA SUCKS to perfection.
Natalie scoffs as Mitchell laughs while also confirming he saw the post at the game last night. Neither of us acknowledges the mini tantrum she’s having in the back seat.
The car ride is such an unexpected experience—in all the best ways—that when Daniel pulls to a stop and rolls down his window, it feels like someone tossed a bucket of cold water on me.
I scoot over in my seat, peering out the window at a set of tall iron gates as Daniel converses with a gentleman stationed at the small guard shack in front of them.
Security lets us pass, and Daniel follows along a driveway that feels like it’s a mile long until he parks in front of a gorgeous mansion. The size denotes its value, but the multi-hued stone facade gives it a cozy, homey feel. It’s welcoming.
Daniel opens Natalie’s door first, extending a hand to her and helping her out before rounding the car and doing the same for me after stepping aside for Mitchell to exit.
The cool autumn breeze has my recent shave at risk as it blows across the skin of my bare legs. I shove my hands into my pockets and snuggle into the wool peacoat wrapped around me.
Arm in arm, Mitchell and Natalie head for the front door held open by a waiting Mrs. Delacourte, but I remain rooted to the spot, staring up at the house like it’s about to eat me alive.
The tight band forming around my lungs warns me that might be a more accurate descriptor than I realize.