Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(68)

She expected an argument. Her grandmother surprised her by saying, “Let’s take the car instead.”

“Okay.”

“First you need to change into something more suitable.”

Crap.

Fifteen minutes later, she and her grandmother sat in the backseat of a large black SUV driven by one of the Red guards. Bryn had changed per her grandmother’s request into a dress, but she’d worn flats rather than heels. They were black patent leather, so it’s not like they were casual.

“Is there any place we can have pancakes?” Bryn asked. Carbs were her go-to comfort food. Right now she wanted a dozen drenched in maple syrup and butter.

“Take us to Suzette’s,” her grandmother told the driver.

She’d never heard of the place. “Is that a restaurant in Dragon’s Bluff?”

“It’s more of a tearoom, but they do serve a nice breakfast. Maybe if I bring your grandfather a box of muffins, he won’t be so testy for the rest of the day.”

Should she apologize for arguing with her grandfather? Nope. She’d already apologized once. It hacked her off that he hadn’t acknowledged the effort she’d made.

“In the past, when you two have fought, has he ever apologized or recognized an apology from you?”

Her grandmother chuckled. It wasn’t a happy sound. “Ephram Sinclair has never apologized to anyone for anything.”





Chapter Twenty-Six


“How’s that possible? He must’ve made mistakes at some point in his life.”

“Mistakes, he has made, but he hasn’t seen them as such. Your grandfather is a very confident man. He thinks he knows what’s best for everyone.”

“Is that a side effect of being on the Directorate?” Oh shit, did she say that out loud?

This time her grandmother laughed for real. “I believe it is. When it comes to dealing with Blue males, it’s best to let them think they are in control. Yelling at him was risky. You shouldn’t do it again. If he had kicked you out, there would be no second chance.”

“How do you deal with his attitude? I’d shoot a fireball at his head.”

“Believe me, there have been times I’ve wanted to. But there’s a lot to be said for keeping the peace. Like I told you once before, he goes his way, and I go mine. It’s just…easier.”

…

When they reached Dragon’s Bluff, the guard parked in a lot across the street from a bakery.

“Are we having doughnuts for breakfast?” Bryn asked.

“No.” Her grandmother exited the vehicle and waited for Bryn to join her. “Suzette’s is just down the street. Before we eat, we’re going to visit a bakery. I need to decide on a dessert for the Christmas ball.”

When it came to Christmas, there was only one dessert that mattered. “Does the bakery make Christmas cookies?”

“I suppose they could.”

Her grandmother didn’t sound that interested.

“If they don’t, could we buy some ingredients to make Christmas cookies?” Sadness welled up inside her but she pushed it down.

“You want to bake your own cookies?” Her grandmother looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language.

Patience. “The only thing better than eating Christmas cookies is baking them.”

Her grandmother nodded. “We’ll see what we can do.”

They crossed the street. It was a pretty winter day with crisp weather and a cloudless sky. The light posts in front of the shop were decorated with silver snowflakes. “I wonder if it will snow for Christmas?”

At home, she’d had a few white Christmases. Her eyes grew hot. She sniffled and tried not to think about what had been. Too late. Images flooded her mind. Her dad dressing up like Santa Claus. Waking Christmas mornings and running to find the reindeer food they’d left on the fire escape gone. Stringing popcorn while watching Rudolph on television. Her dad singing all the songs, badly off tune. Bam. Bam. Bam. The hits kept coming.

She clutched at the light post she stood next to because it was within reach. It was real. Everything else was gone. Her entire life. Gone. Everything good, gone gone gone.

Bryn became aware that she was sitting on the ground and her grandmother was yelling at her. “Bryn, what is it? Are you sick?”

Strong hands grabbed Bryn by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet. Jaxon stared into her face. “What’s wrong?”

“It can’t be Christmas without them.” And then she burst into tears.

Lillith appeared by Jaxon’s side. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

People kept saying that, but it didn’t do her any damn good.

Her grandmother passed her a lace-edged handkerchief. Bryn took it and dabbed at her face, but the tears kept coming.

“You’re not going to stop crying, are you?” Jaxon said.

“I’m not doing it on purpose.” She took a deep breath and blew it out. Didn’t help.

“Perhaps we could sit somewhere and have a cup of tea,” Lillith suggested. “Suzette’s is just around the corner.”

“God, no.” Jaxon backed up a step.

The look of utter horror on his face turned Bryn’s tears to laughter. How bad could the tearoom be?