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Chapter 167
It gets a little awkward in the close quarters of the limousine, but Jesse does a good job of breaking the awkwardness by pouring more champagne – god, mom really made sure we were stocked – and pointing out all of the landmarks that we pass on the way to the palace to Ben and Daphne,
keeping us all laughing with his commentary.
Rafe, when we got in the car, sat me deliberately on his right with Daphne on my other side, very carefully ensuring that I wasn’t sitting next to either of my mates, I think trying to be fair to both of them. But as we draw close to the palace, Rafe turns to Jackson on his left and raises an eyebrow. “You ready for this?” he murmurs, smirking a little.
“Absolutely not,” Jackson returns, deadpan. But then he smiles at my brother, and moves his eyes to me, and his smile deepens. “But we’ll get through it, right?”
“That’s the spirit,” Rafe says, laughing and clinking his glass against. Jackson’s before taking a sip.
Jackson just glances down at his champagne with distaste. From NôvelDrama.Org.
“What,” I say, leaning further over Rafe with a grin, unable to help it. “You don’t like it?”
“What is it?” he asks, baffled, holding his glass up to stare at the pale
bubbly liquid.
“It’s champagne!” I say, laughing.
Jackson just shifts his eyes to me like I’m crazy if I think he knows what that means, which makes me laugh more. Jesse, having caught the conversation, laughs as well in a good–hearted way.
“What do you like, Jacks?” he asks, flipping open the little travel bar that dad keeps quite well
stocked back here.
“I don’t know,” Jackson murmurs, peering over my head with surprise and a little delight at the secret compartment. “Something.brown.”
“Whiskey it is,” Jesse says, pouring him a draft and handing it down the line.
“If he’s not going to have his champagne,” Luca calls, and I turn my head to him with surprise to see him holding out his hand. “I’ll take it.”
Grinning, pleased to see him come back to himself a little more, I take Jackson’s glass and pass it down to Luca, who empties it into his own half- full flute. “No sense in wasting five–hundred–dollar champagne,” he murmurs, lifting his glass to me in a toast with a wink before taking a sip.
“That cost five hundred dollars?” Jackson gasps, almost dropping his glass of whiskey in his shock.
“Whoa, whoa,” Rafe says, putting a steadying hand under Jackson’s glass. “Listen, if you’re that shocked about the champagne, don’t even ask about the whiskey – just…be careful. And enjoy.”
Jackson stares at Rafe, and then at me, and then at all of us in appalled shock, which just makes us all laugh harder. But after a moment he smiles too, shaking his head and taking it in stride. I lift a hand to my cheek, which aches a bit from smiling so much, because this is…this is working, isn’t it?
At least right now it is.
On my other side, Daphne’s leg bounces anxiously.
“You okay?” I whisper, resting my hand on her knee.
“Oh, you know,” she says, her voice high and too breezy. “Just…about to meet the king and the queen. Just a normal day. No reason to be anxious.”
“They’re nice,” I whisper, grinning. And then I tap the bottom of her glass. “Bottom’s up. Liquid courage.”
“You want me to be drunk when I meet the royals!?” she says, aghast, but I
catch the corner of her grin and realize that she’s kidding.
“Yes, “Jesse says, leaning towards her with delight, “you’ll fit in just fine if you’re utterly plastered.”
“You’re going to give her the impression that our family is all alcoholics,” I say, rolling my eyes at him as the limo pulls around the final corner to the palace and my home my home! – comes into view. My face stretches with
–
my smile, my cheeks aching more.
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