Prep School Experiment (19 page)

Kaitlin took a sip of her sparkling apple cider and beamed. “I can’t believe dessert will be served in the grand ballroom and we’ll be sitting with Elena, Thane, and Geneva.” Her voice rose in excitement. Her eyes shone, the irises flashing blue.

Rhys tilted so he could speak quietly in her ear. “You’re making me jealous.”

Kaitlin’s hand flew over his. “Nooo.”

The O shape of her lips made him smile. He wanted to kiss her, but not here.

A suited security guard came over. He bent and placed a small piece of paper beside Rhys’ plate of rubber chicken and lukewarm boiled potatoes. After delivering the note, he melted back to his post at the door. The paper read,
Your mother needs to speak with you in private. Go out the side door to the East Salon.

What now? Hadn’t Bob gone over tonight’s events in minute detail? Rhys glanced up at Michelle. She smiled at him and waved.

“Excuse me a moment,” Rhys said to the table and walked toward the front. He squatted down between Michelle and Christian and smiled at her. “You doing okay?”

Michelle smiled. The dark shadows under her eyes from this morning had been concealed with makeup and she appeared her usual put-together self. “Fine. You?”

“Yeah.”

“Your girlfriend’s pretty.”

“Thanks. She’s nice too.”

“How nice?” Christian asked.

Rhys wrinkled his nose. “Really nice.”

Michelle slapped his arm. “Rhys.”

“Bummer,” Christian said.

Michelle slapped his arm too. “I can hear you.”

Steven leaned forward. “Boys, behave.”

Rhys flicked open the note, keeping it below the white table cloth. “What did you need?”

Michelle’s eyebrows lifted and she scanned the words, her face blank.

Bob leaned back in his chair, tilting it on two legs, and he hissed through grinning teeth, “Not her.”

Rhys felt his face heat and he straightened. His gaze flew to the side door.

Mom is here.

Steven rose and his big hand fell on Rhys’ arm. He turned to Bob and spoke through a smiling mouth. “You forget yourself.”

Rich people fought more in public than he’d thought. They just kept up the pretenses while doing it.

Bob’s raised his hands, palms open. “I don’t think Ms. Zukowski is here to stir up trouble. She looked up the Brentwoods after the custody papers were drawn up. I guess she’s been watching for news online and she saw the Brentwoods arriving here with Rhys. Naturally, she wants to see him. I thought the most discrete thing to do would be to let Rhys handle it.”

Rhys pulled against the senator’s hold. “I can handle it.”

Steven didn’t let go. He stared at Bob and lost his smile. “You don’t make decisions about my son.” His cold gaze flickered to the empty chair. “Maybe I’ve given you the wrong impression.”

Bob motioned his hands up and down. “Not at all, Steven. This dinner’s for you. Be present.” He rose and stepped away from the table. “You shouldn’t be seen with Rhys. Not yet. The press could put two and two together.” He pushed his chair in. “I’ll go with the boy, make sure everything’s okay.”

Rhys didn’t want Bob going anywhere with him. He’d handle Mom on his own. His muscles tensed.

Michelle rose, her hand flattening over her not-yet-visible baby bump. “
I’m
his mother. Rhys doesn’t go near
her.
Not alone. We’ll tell her together after the election, like we agreed.”

Steven put one hand on Michelle’s shoulders, urging her to sit. “I’ve got this, Michelle.” He spoke in a soft voice. “You don’t need to get upset.”

Mom. His mom was here. Was Stepdad #4 here too? What did they want? Rhys knew Mom wouldn’t make a fuss before the election. She wasn’t stupid. Having a re-elected senator in her debt was worth more than a guy who’d just lost an election. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want something from him. He moved toward the side door. The senator paced him, motioning for Bob to stay behind.

“You don’t need to come with me,” Rhys said.

“I want to meet her,” Steven said. “I know you were mostly raised by your grandparents, but she’s been a big part in your life these last couple of years.”

He probably thought Rhys couldn’t deal with the situation. He could.

They reached the door and Steven nodded at the guard. The guard touched his earpiece and held the door open. Steven never had to open doors in public. Some aide always rushed ahead to assist him, even when they were half his size.

He and Steven went into the East Salon together. Mom stood alone at the far end of the room. She wore a tight skirt, a shiny blouse, makeup and jewelry—her going-out clothes. Tonight she appeared younger than her thirty-five years. Her clothes didn’t seem as out of place as they did normally.

Her brown gaze flickered between him and the senator and then she stepped between them. Her arms wrapped around Rhys in an awkward hug, enveloping Rhys in a cloud of perfume and hairspray. No hint of beer yet.

Rhys’ shoulders eased.

The senator opened his mouth, but Mom headed him off. She crossed her arms over her chest and eyed the two of them in their matching tuxedos. “So you’re Rhys’ dad.”

Rhys blinked, but the senator wasn’t visibly fazed. He held out his hand, “Steven Wentworth.”

Mom shook it. “Senator from Texas.”

She’d done her homework.

“I knew something big was up when that representative came down from New York and had me sign custody papers, like Rhys wasn’t already grown.”

Rhys rubbed his forehead.

“Rhys is still a minor.” The senator smoothed his words to hide an edge. He hadn’t liked custody going to Rhys’ grandparents.

“Rhys hasn’t been a minor for a long time.” Mom’s voice sharpened. “I know. I raised him—without any help from his dad.”

“That’s why I wanted to meet you. My family owes yours an immeasurable debt.”

With that, Mom lost her tension, and she loosened up as she tended to do around handsome men. “You think I wouldn’t see the news and put two and two together? I ain’t never slept with no old man.”

God, hearing about Mom’s sex life was so embarrassing.

She gestured to the senator. “And I don’t like men with cold blue eyes either. Put that together with that hurricane-switching nightmare and I knew the truth. I knew it deep in my bones. I think I always knew it.”

Something in Rhys hardened.

Steven pulled a card from his pocket. “This is my card. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call and my staff will arrange it.”

She looked away. “The Brentwoods have taken care of me,” she said. But, she reached out and took the card anyway.

“I’ll give you two a minute.” Steven moved back toward the door. He didn’t leave, but he stood far enough away that they had some privacy.

Mom looked him up and down, taking in the haircut and the custom-made boots.

The boots had been a gift from Grandpa Wentworth upon meeting him in person a few nights ago. What a kick. On the side of each boot was engraved the letter
W
for Wentworth. But those giveaways were hidden by his pants legs.

Her gaze moved to his cufflinks.

The cufflinks were platinum and engraved with
B
’s for Brentwood, a gift from Grandfather earlier tonight.

Grandmother had joked, “You can see why we didn’t engrave one with an
S
for Shay.”

He’d laughed, but had kind of liked the idea of having B.S. cufflinks. He’d had so many denials of who his father was over the years that he liked the idea of someone wanting to share their name with him.

Mom said, “You sure landed with your boots pointed straight up.”

“Yeah.”

“You doing okay, Rhys?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Those Brentwoods sure aren’t stingy, I’ll give them that.” Her chin tilted. “Not that I wasn’t due. I paid out all those years and you weren’t even mine.” She looked away and flushed. “Think I don’t know what people say about my mothering skills? But I just never bonded with you. I thought it was because I didn’t see you much when you were small. Me being way too young to have a kid and all. But I knew.” She tapped her chest. “I knew deep in here. I had no ties with you. Those other moms may not have known. But I knew.” Her chin tilted higher. “I would have known my own kid. Who knows, maybe my life would have turned out different.”

Maybe it would have. Rhys rubbed his arms. This meeting was going both better and worse than he’d expected. More than anything, it was a relief to get it over with. He backed up a step. “Maybe.”

Her brown eyes sharpened on him. “And don’t think I don’t know you were behind them offering some kind of rehab. I don’t need nothing like that. You know better.”

Rhys
had
pushed for his grandparents to include that in whatever they were giving her. He held his hands out. “It’s always on the table if you want it. Your call.”

“Well, I don’t need it.” She shifted and tugged at her blouse. “And don’t go telling your stepdad about none of this business with your name. He’ll go blabbing his mouth off. He don’t need to know until people need to know.”

Like he’d tell that worthless sack anything.
“Okay.”

“Now, I’m heading off, meeting up with some friends.” She fluffed her hair, dug out a lipstick and slicked on a coat. “Can you believe your grandparents got me a driver? I had a hard time explaining that one as a perk from the boarding school. Now, you be good and don’t get kicked out of here.” She shoved her lipstick in her bag. “Call on Christmas. I expect that.”

“I will.” Something tense in him loosened. It was probably one of the best conversations they’d ever had.

After she left, Steven came up and stood beside him. “You okay?” he echoed her words.

Rhys appreciated how Steven had let him handle it. “Yeah.” He shook off his emotions and pasted on one of the phony social smiles he’d learned how to perfect. Rich people were just as crazy as poor people. But they knew to hide it. Rhys was learning.

When they got back into the small ballroom, plates were being removed, and champagne was being poured. Christian and Michelle were staring at the door where they entered. Steven went straight to her. But, Rhys hung back by the wall.

Bob rose from the front table and moved up to the podium. He adjusted the mic. “Now, you didn’t think we’d let you head off to dessert without a speech, did you?”

The guests laughed. A few good-humored groans that were quickly drowned out by chants of “Wentworth. Wentworth.”

Bob motioned for the crowd to quiet. “The Black Tie cake will have to wait because I have something even better for you. May I present to you, the next senator from the great state of Texas…Steven Wentworth.”

The audience cheered and clapped. Steven kissed Michelle and headed to the stage while the audience rose to their feet, still clapping. Rhys used the opportunity to move in beside Kaitlin. She looked up at him and scooted closer, raising her eyebrows. He clapped with the others and mouthed.
I’ll tell you later.
Then he thought,
Screw it
, and put his arm around her waist. Her parents stared at him, but he didn’t care. His arm tightened. Her arm slipped around him and she leaned her slight weight into his side.

“Thank you all for coming.” The senator beamed out at the crowd. “Your support during this campaign has meant everything to me and my family.” That was the signal for Michelle and Christian to join him.

Michelle lifted the skirt of her blue evening gown and climbed the steps, Christian walked behind her and they got in place beside the senator.

The senator hugged them each and then moved back to the mic. He motioned to the front table. “You all see the empty chair. It’s a symbol of those who couldn’t be here to celebrate with us tonight: neighbor, doctor, father, mother, brother, sister, son.” The senator’s voice didn’t crack this time, and Rhys appreciated the restraint.

Kaitlin patted his arm.

The senator brushed his knuckles over his jaw and then moved his hands behind his back, clasping them together. “I’ve spoken publically about my own loss and the need for reform in regards to emergency preparedness. So by now, you all know the story. My son Braedon was born at Trallwyn Hospital, seventeen years ago last summer, and then a few minutes later, my son Christian.” He cleared his throat and touched Christian’s arm. “You’ve likely seen the news, and know that after speculation arose about the possibility of a baby-switch, paternity tests were run on the kids born that week.”

The audience murmured. Everyone had seen the news. Rhys had thought maybe the senator would skip this story tonight. Focus on thanks and move onto cake. Guess not.

Michelle put her hand protectively over her abdomen and eased closer to Christian.

“Tonight…” The senator closed his eyes and swallowed.

Here come the tears.

Kaitlin’s arm tightened around Rhys’ waist. Rhys glanced down and saw that her own eyes were shiny. Such a sucker. She knew how the story turned out and she was still getting drawn in like the rest of the audience.

“Tonight.” The senator withdrew notecards and shuffled them, like he was lost. He stilled and put the cards back in his pocket. “I have a list here of people I want to thank especially for their support. But first I can’t go on without the complete truth. You, my loyal supporters, deserve it. I can’t stand here and say this is my family when my family is incomplete. Not when I can make it whole.”

Rhys stared hard. What the hell was Steven doing? They’d put this off six weeks and two states and he was giving up the game now…here…tonight…this moment.

“Rhys. I need you up here,” the senator said.

Rhys shook his head instinctively.

Tears overflowed Michelle’s cheeks and Christian grinned. The senator gestured with his hand. Kaitlin pushed on his arm.

“Go on, son,” Grandfather Brentwood said.

Grandmother nodded, her own eyes glistening.

Here we go
. The senator was blowing it up Texas style. Rhys probably got that instinct from him. He understood it, at least. He moved forward, staring straight ahead, and climbed the podium steps.