Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 234
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
“What?” She smiles at my laughter.
“When you quote Tom, it’s just the best.” She speaks like she’s stuck in a Brontë novel, and Tom uses slang like a typical twenty-one-year-old.
“You are sus,” she jabs my arm with a finger, her smile flickering in and out.
I sit up. “Everything’s fine, really, Audrey.” I take off my ballcap. Running my fingers through my hair.
She searches my eyes, trying to uncover a lie, but finds none. Unfurling a black laced fan, she wafts her glistening face. “I overheard Mother and Father talking.”
“What about?”
“They said you’re working at some bar in New York. As a bartender.”
I suppress a groan in my chest. Fuck. Fuck. I rub at my eyes. “Really?” Only one person could’ve leaked that information to my parents. One person I’ve trusted for years.
My bodyguard. Chris Novak.
I clench my jaw. The betrayal sinks heavy, even though I have no idea why he’d tell them. Was it a security reason? Did he feel like they needed to know? He’s kept way worse shit a secret, but then again, maybe his loyalty is askew after I went full Rambo mode.
She frowns. “Is that not true? They said you were bartending so you could be closer to a girl. They didn’t name or describe her, but I assumed it was Harriet.”
After the video chat where Audrey met Harriet, I’ve mentioned her to my sister. Once. Twice…a lot of times. I like talking about her.
“Yeah, it is Harriet,” I nod.
She perks. “Can I have her number? Which bar?”
“When you meet her in person, you can ask for her number. It’s not mine to give.” I scratch the back of my head. “And if I tell you the bar, you cannot tell our brothers. Seriously, I don’t need Tom and Eliot to come crash my place of work and get me and Harriet fired.”
“I promise. I won’t.”
I shouldn’t tell her. “Even if they press you—”
“I will not crack.” She puts her hands together. “Please, please give me a chance. I know I haven’t been great at keeping secrets before, but I just need the opportunity to succeed and—”
“Okay, okay.” I trust her, but this is a big risk. “We’re bartending at a placed called Where You Want to Be at the End of the World. It’s where Breakfast at Tiffany’s was playing when we talked on the phone.”
Her eyes brighten. “Can I visit you there?”
“You have to be eighteen to get in.”
Her shoulders slump. “Being the youngest Cobalt is truly abhorrent.”
I smile. “I know. You’re almost there though.”
“I’m sixteen. Eighteen is a lifetime away.” She falls back onto the quilt dramatically, and really, fuck Mandy Dean for not letting her into drama club.
“When are cheer tryouts?” I ask.
“Next week,” she says to the sky. “If I don’t make varsity, bury me right here.”
“You’re going to make it.” She was on the JV cheer squad last year, and she’s good enough to be on varsity. We talk more about my classes and how MVU is about the same difficulty as Penn. She updates me on the fact that zero boys in her class are cute.
She’s had plenty of crushes, but never on guys at school. Great for me, since I never had to deal with my little sister potentially dating one of my friends when we were at Dalton together. Too many of my hockey teammates wanted to hook up with her. It was very fucking annoying.
“Boys are so immature,” she laments. “And soft. I just want a man.” She speaks loud enough that Charlie can hear while trekking over to us. “Is it really too much to ask to be manhandled?”
She worries me when she says shit like that. “Depends on which guy you’re asking, seeing as how you’re still sixteen.” I throw a dug-out weed on the grass.
“La tragédie.” She shuts her fan. “The man of my dreams is out there. And he’ll sweep me off my feet so very roughly.”
Charlie stops at the quilt. “Look, it’s the worst conversation I’ve heard all day.”
She lifts her chin. “Don’t make fun of my romance.”
“I’m not. I’m making fun of your imagination.”
Her jaw drops, and I glare at Charlie, but he’s not paying attention to our sister. He nods slightly to me. “Dad wants to talk to you.”
“Later, I will—”
“Before breakfast, he said.”
Fuck. I pick myself off the grass. “Is this you warning me?”
“No, I just wanted the fresh air.” His dry tone and irritation are apparent. “He’ll find you if you don’t find him first.”
So he is giving me a heads up. “Thanks,” I tell my brother, a weird feeling rolling around my stomach. Is Charlie being nice?
Hiking back to the mansion, I run into my dad in his pursuit of me. And sure enough, he says, “Can we talk before we eat?”
I don’t love the seriousness in his eyes. Avoidance is futile. This is going to happen.