Dad and I exchange a mutual look of pride.
“I hope so,” I answer, even though Carrington was probably addressing Dad. I stand up and shrug at Jordan’s father. “She’s the best thing to happen to the Royals in a long time.”
29
Ella
“This place is way too fancy,” I hiss to Reed on Thursday evening. He insisted on taking me out tonight, but when he said “dinner” I hadn’t expected such an extravagant restaurant. My black dress is much too plain compared to all the cocktail gowns I’m seeing everywhere. “I’m underdressed.”
He clasps my hand tighter and practically drags me to the hostess station. “You look hot,” is all he says, and then he tells the black-clad hostess that we’ve got reservations—Royal, table for two.
She guides us past secluded tables that are tucked away between huge planters of sweeping ferns. There’s a fountain in the middle of the room with spouting arcs of water, and what looks like a waterfall behind the bar. It’s the fanciest restaurant I’ve ever been to in my life.
Reed pulls out my chair and settles across from me at the cozy table. A waiter comes by with two leather-bound menus and a wine list, which Reed waves away. “Water’s fine,” he tells the guy, and I’m grateful, because I hate wine. It tastes gross.
When I flip open the menu, I’m confused to find that there aren’t any prices listed. Crap. That’s never a good sign. It means everything here costs more than most people’s college tuition.
“We should’ve just gone to the seafood place on the pier,” I grumble at him.
“For your first date? No way.”
I suddenly wish I’d never made that confession about how I’ve never been on a date. I should have known Reed would go overboard. This guy never does anything halfway.
“Why is it so important to you that I have a real first date?” I ask with a sigh.
“Because you have some shitty memories of me and I want to replace those with good ones,” he says simply, and I melt right along with the wax that’s sliding down the sides of the thin white candles in the center of our table.
The waiter returns with our water, and we skip the appetizers and order our main course, then sit there staring at each other for a moment. It’s kind of surreal being out on a date with Reed Royal. When I told Val about our plans for tonight, she teased me about how I’ve done everything backwards. I guess the first date is supposed to come before all the fooling around, but hey, my life has never been traditional, so why start now?
“Have you heard any updates on Rose?” he asks.
I shake my head. Poor Rose hasn’t been back to school since Jordan tortured and humiliated her. “No, everyone’s left me alone except for Val. I think they’re scared of me.”
“If you asked, someone would cough up the details.”
“I kind of want to call her, but maybe she just wants to forget Astor exists.”
“I think you should call,” Reed encourages.
“I feel like we’re always fighting some huge battle,” I say glumly. “Like, yeah, people have stopped acting like psychos at school, but everything else is still a mess.”
A furrow appears in his forehead. “We’re not a mess.”
“Not you and me,” I agree. “But…”
“But what?”
I draw a deep breath. “Brooke and Dinah will be back next week.”
His expression clouds over. “You really want to ruin your first date by talking about those two?”
“We have to talk about them eventually,” I point out. “What are we going to do about them? Dinah’s blackmailing Gideon. Brooke’s marrying your dad and having his baby.” I bite my bottom lip in dismay. “I don’t think they’re ever going away, Reed.”
“We’ll make them go away,” he says harshly.
“How?”
“I…have no idea.”
I dig my teeth deeper into my lip. “I don’t have a solution to the Dinah thing, but I might have an idea about Brooke.”
He looks at me in suspicion. “What kind of idea?”
“Remember the day you overheard us talking in the kitchen? I asked her what her end game was, what she really wants, and her answer was money.” I lean forward on my elbows. “That’s all she’s ever wanted—money. So let’s give it to her.”
“Trust me, I tried. I offered her cash.” He makes a disgusted sound under his breath. “She wants everything, Ella. The entire Royal fortune.”
“What about the O’Halloran fortune?”
There’s a sharp intake of breath. Then he narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t even think about it, babe.”
“Why not?” I argue. “I already told you, I don’t want Steve’s money. I don’t want a fourth of Atlantic Aviation.”