The Insiders by Tijan

FIFTY-ONE

I was a mess.

The ten days had gone by so fast. So much happened when everyone was getting ready for the party. It was a big to-do. My alerts had been going nuts from people posting about it. Security was going to be insane. They had a helicopter going over the property. I was trying not to focus on all the speculation or how livid Martha had been when Peter told her his plan. He hadn’t cared. He said it was happening and she needed to adjust her plan, so she did. She was proficient, if anyone needed one word to describe her.

The Bonham poisoning affair/pending divorce scandal was nipped in the bud and, instead, glowing stories came out about me. They talked about things I had forgotten had happened, like awards I won in elementary school or how I applied for and won so many Phoenix Tech scholarships when it wasn’t known I was his daughter. I had earned those on my own, and the competition for them had been stiff.

They talked about my photographic memory, the graduate program I was attending, and how even that was prestigious. The wow factor was in full effect. All these people coming to the party were now coming not only because they were nosey a-holes who wanted to see the ins and outs of Peter Francis’s family but also because they were curious about me.

Another person being buzzed about in the papers: Kash’s grandfather. The financial papers reported he was in the United States and traveling to our area.

Camille Story wasn’t the only blog speculating about whether Calhoun Bastian would make a surprise appearance at the party, even though he wasn’t invited, and they were reporting that Kash had brought an order of protection against him. That had been news to me, and since Kash had closed up regarding everything except having sex with me, I hadn’t brought it up.

When I say “closed up,” that wasn’t an exaggeration.

He didn’t talk. Literally.

He was silent. He was tense. And he was affecting everyone.

The tension had been building over the last month, but it was on steroids now. Kash was readying for a fight, and it seemed he thought he was the only one going to handle it. I tried to ask about his grandfather, but he’d just pick me up or kiss me or, well, basically he’d carry me to bed, and what girl could say no to that? One touch and I was a melting puddle for him. The tingles zapped me just by a look from him. But I knew he was worried. There were nights when I woke to find him sitting in the living room, in his office, at his kitchen table, alone and in the dark. Sometimes a glass of bourbon was set in front of him. Other times, it was just him and the darkness.

I’d either fold myself onto his lap or he’d stand and pick me up, taking me back to bed. My questions were hushed by his mouth, and I was exhausted every morning, when I would wake later—much later. We were averaging three hours of sleep per night because of that, and because of my own nerves about myself, knowing that Matt’s uppity friends would be coming to the party, Seraphina’s bully friends, too, and some of Cyclone’s. Quinn just seemed to get frostier and frostier toward me, and my mother hadn’t been much better. I was ready to explode.

Or have a nervous breakdown.

I was secretly hoping for the latter, because that might mean hospital time and—score!—an expensive-as-hell vacation. That’s what those stays were for, right?

Even my humor was slipping. That was lame.

“Are you prepped for the itinerary of the party?”

It was Martha.

I turned, coffee in hand, and wrinkled my nose. She was literally breathing stark professionalism. A headset over her head, a thin mic resting just past her cheek, and a full clipboard in hand, with lists. So many lists. Her phone was in her other hand, and she was dressed to the nines, like always. High heels. A flowing tulle skirt. A sequin top. Her hair wrapped up and twisted all around with flowers and baby’s breath intertwined to make her look like she was an earth goddess.

“You are way too awake for me right now.” I looked away. It was seven in the morning. If she was like this, when had she gotten up? Maybe she didn’t sleep. Or breathe. Maybe she wasn’t even human? That was more like it.

She and Kash were both members of the same species.

Lame. Again. I was being so lame.

Rubbing a hand over my jaw, I bit back a yawn and went for the coffee again. I’d need this in an IV, at this rate.

She stepped next to me, looking at where I was looking, over the yard, where all the chairs and tables were being set up. Theresa manned the kitchen, but today they had brought in extra catering, given how big the crowd was going to be. Security guys had been walking the premises for the last few days, and as we stood there, looking out, three walked past, doing their sweeps.

“This must be overwhelming.”

I glanced sideways at her. She sounded different. More understanding? I didn’t trust it.

I sipped my coffee again.

She added, “You were plucked from one world and put in this one, and it wasn’t by choice. You were forced here. That has to be…” She was studying me now. “I’ve never really thought to consider from your point of view. Are you handling everything okay?”

My coffee was really interesting—like, super interesting. I could taste the texture of it. The way the mug was warming it. I mean—crap. There’s the emotional lump forming again. Why’d she have to go there, look at me like a person?

I sniffed, draining the rest of my coffee, and jerked up a shoulder.

More understanding, more than I was comfortable feeling, had her softening her tone even more. She touched my shoulder, patting there. “Everything will be fine today. Your father wants everyone to take note: you are a Francis now. They will treat you as a Francis after this, and Kash has been working tirelessly with the security. No one is getting in unless they were invited personally. Even the extra catering staff were all checked out. The computer program you wrote helped with all of that, too.”

Finally. A topic I could talk about. “Yeah. Well. It’s in its early stages. It’s just a beta one right now.”

“It was helpful. You are a very impressive young woman.”

Damn it. The lump. It tripled.

“And you are very loved.”

God. No tears. Hayes women didn’t cry. I wasn’t starting now, and I was ignoring the last time a few tears slipped out. They’d been manipulated out of me. I was going with that lie. I cleared my throat, pushing that boulder back down. “The itinerary?”

“Oh, yes.” We were back to business. She pulled her clipboard up. “Food for breakfast will be put out in an hour, for family and close loved ones who have already arrived. It’s a buffet-style meal, so go when you’d like, but everything will be taken down by ten. Eleven thirty is when the brunch will be put out and it will be refilled throughout the day. That’s when the next wave of guests are due to arrive. Business colleagues. Extended family members. Matthew’s friends. Seraphina’s. That group. Brunch will be dismantled around two. The drinks will be maintained all day, but we have extra bartending staff coming in around five, and then dinner will be served at six thirty. This will be when everyone will be in attendance. Your father wanted to officially make a statement about you. A slideshow will be played.”

A slideshow?

“And then, after that, it’ll be dancing, drinks, and hors d’oeuvres for the rest of the night. You are to be seen, mingling and smiling. Your father will take you among the groups after the announcement to personally meet some of the guests.” She tucked her clipboard under her arm, focusing on her phone. “You cannot skip any of the events. This one day. One day that you have to be ‘on.’ Everyone invited is important, either locally, nationally, or globally. We have CEOs of billion-dollar companies, celebrities who make million-dollar donations, top government officials. In some ways, this is the first day of your new life. You will officially be in the public eye now. People are going to expect you to change your last name to Francis. They’ll expect you to wear the latest fashion trends. They’ll expect greatness from you—”

“Get out.”

I’d been tensing the more she talked. Every word, the less air I had in my chest. My lungs were fully depleted. Hearing Kash’s growl gave me a reprieve. I bent over, gasping for oxygen.

Martha gave me a distracted frown before focusing on Kash. “What?”

“Get the fuck out of my villa.”

She turned to square off against him, lifting her chin. “Kash.”

Even her tone sounded condescending.

She was in trou-uh-ble.

“Get out.” He growled again. “Now.”

She just shook her head. “There will be expectations of her now. No one’s informed her. She has to know before she goes out there—”

“She’s not going out there alone. She’ll be with me. Her father is making the announcement. That’s it. She can be there if she wants, she can be gone if she wants. She doesn’t have to do a damn thing, and you’re going to back the fuck off if you think you’re going to start ordering her around.”

Now she got it.

Now her eyes widened.

Now she stepped back.

Now she was wary.

Now was too late. Kash was almost in her face. He was restraining himself, but still closing in.

I whispered, “If I were you, I’d make a run for it.”

She gave me an incredulous look, those eyebrows shooting up, but heeded my warning. She was gone within a second.

“You okay?” He drew me to him, folding me into his arms, one hand coming to cup the side of my face.

It felt better, feeling him, and I tipped my head up to smile at him. “I am now.”

His eyes darkened. “You are always.”

“Always.”

We shared a grin before he groaned, stiffened, and dipped his head into the crook of my shoulder and neck. “She’s not totally wrong. We have to make appearances tonight.”

I smoothed a hand down his back. “If you stick with me, we’ll be fine.”

And the funny thing was that I believed that. I really did. Everything would be fine. I wouldn’t enjoy the night. I never did, with big parties, but I understood why my father was doing this. It was time. And with that reassurance in my head, I trusted that all would be fine as long as Kash was next to me.

I was wrong.