Steve sets down his glass. “Are you serious?”
I nod, wishing this awkward discussion was over already. “I might wear a skirt to school—” I offer a wry smile. “But I’m not easy. I guess because of my mom, I haven’t had any desire to go down that route.”
“Well.” He seems at a loss for words. “Well,” he repeats and then half-chuckles to himself. “I really stuck my foot in my mouth the other morning, didn’t I? I think I let Dinah rile me up with all those comments about your skirt.”
I force myself not to shift uncomfortably, because while I haven’t lost my virginity yet, I’ve still done a lot, and I have big plans for this weekend.
“I really misjudged you,” Steve says ruefully “I’m sorry about that. I’m messing up all over the place. I read this book on parenting and it said that I should listen more. I’m going to do that,” he declares, lobbing another promise out there like his paper airplanes.
“So it’s okay that we travel with the team? I mean, it’s not like we spend a lot of time with the players, and we drive up in different buses.”
“It should be fine.”
I give an internal fist pump. Now it’s time to go in for the kill. “Also, I was talking to some of the girls and they said that everyone’s staying overnight at a hotel so we can go to this amusement park the next day.” I fake a grimace. “It sounds totally juvenile, but apparently it’s supposed to be some kind of team-building thing. I convinced Val to come up and keep me company.”
His eyes narrow. “Will the football players be going, too?”
“No, they’re all riding back on the bus to Bayview on Friday night.” Except half the starters, including Reed and Easton, but I don’t mention that. I’ve told most of the truth. That counts, right?
“All right.” Steve nods. “I’m okay with that.” He holds up a finger. “Hold on. I’ll be right back. I got you a few things.”
Apprehension builds inside me as I watch Steve jog up the stairs. Oh God. What did he get me now? I hear a drawer opening and closing, and then he reappears a minute later with a small leather case in his hand.
“A couple things,” he tells me. “First, Callum said he hadn’t gotten you a credit card yet, so I took care of it.”
He holds out a black card.
I warily accept it. The card is shiny and heavy. For a second, I’m excited to have it—until I see the name embossed on it with gold lettering.
ELLA O’HALLORAN.
Steve notices my frown but answers it with a broad smile. “I’ve already secured the paperwork to legally change your surname. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
My jaw drops. Is he serious? I flat-out told him I wanted to keep my mom’s last name. I’m Ella Harper, not O’Halloran.
Before I can object, he turns toward the stairs. “Dinah, get down here,” he orders. “I have something for you.”
Dinah appears, her shrewd eyes focused on Steve. “What is it?”
He beckons her. “Come down.”
The snake inside her looks ready to pounce, but she obviously manages to restrain it, because she descends the stairs and walks stiffly to Steve.
He holds out another credit card. This one is silver rather than black.
“What’s this?” She stares at it as if it might explode in her hand if she tries to touch it.
Steve smiles, but it’s cold and mean. “I was going over your recent credit card statements and they seemed exorbitantly high. So I canceled those cards. This is the one you’ll use from now.”
Fire flashes in her eyes. “But this is a basic card!”
“Yes,” he agrees. “The limit is five thousand. That should be more than enough for you.”
Her mouth opens. And closes. And opens. And closes. This goes on for a while. I hold my breath as I examine her face, waiting for her to lose it. Five thousand dollars might be a fortune for me, but I know it’s peanuts for Dinah. There’s no way she’s going to take this well.
Except…she does.
“You’re right. That seems like more than enough,” she answers in a sweet voice.
But when Steve bends his head to take something else out of his leather case, Dinah gives me a look so icy and scathing that I find myself shivering. When her gaze lowers to the black card I’m holding, I’m afraid she might actually hit me.
“The last item of business,” Steve announces, handing me a sheet of paper.
I glance at it and see a printout of airline tickets. “What’s this?”
“Tickets to London,” he says happily. “We’re going there over the holidays.”
I wrinkle my brow. “We are?”
He picks up his drink. “Yes. We’ll stay at the Waldorf, visit a few castles. You should make a list of the things you want to see,” he encourages.
“All of us are going?” Reed never said a word to me about the Royals going to London for Christmas. Maybe he doesn’t know?