The Heir (The Selection #4)(32)

“Thanks, May.” Mom rolled her eyes.

“Any time.”

I chuckled, wishing briefly that I had just one sister. Mom’s other sister, Aunt Kenna, died years ago of a heart condition. Uncle James was a simple man, so he didn’t want to raise Astra and Leo in the palace even though we offered several times. We kept in touch, of course, but Astra and I were very different girls. Still, I remembered all too clearly the way Mom had spent a week in bed holding May and Grandma Singer after Kenna passed away. More and more I wondered if losing a sister was like Mom losing part of herself. I knew it would feel like that for me if anything happened to Ahren.

Aunt May elbowed Mom, and they shared a smile. They never really fought, not over anything that truly mattered, and the two of them soothed my worries.

They were right. This was nothing.

“You’re going to do great,” Mom said. “You don’t know how to fail.” She gave me a wink, and I felt myself stand taller.

I checked the clock. “I should go. Thanks for coming,” I said, taking Aunt May’s hand.

“No problem.” I hugged her at the door, and then headed downstairs.

When I got to Hale’s room, I paused and drew in a deep breath before I knocked. He answered, not his butler, and he seemed thrilled to see me.

“You look fantastic,” he said.

“Thank you,” I answered, smiling in spite of myself. “So do you.”

He’d changed, too, which made me feel much more comfortable, and I liked what he’d done with himself. His tie was gone, and he had his top button undone. Between that and the vest, he looked . . . well, he looked cute.

Hale tucked his hands into his pockets. “So where are we going?”

I pointed down the hall. “This way, up to the fourth floor.”

He rocked on his feet a few times then hesitantly held out his arm for me. “Lead the way.”

“All right,” I began as we walked toward the stairs. “I know the basic facts. Hale Garner, nineteen years old, Belcourt. But those entry forms are a little cut and dried, so what’s your story?”

He chuckled. “Well, I too am the oldest in my family.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Three boys.”

“Ugh, I feel bad for your mother.”

He smiled. “Eh, she doesn’t mind. We remind her of Dad, so when one of us is a little too loud or laughs at something he would have, she’ll sigh and say we’re just like him.”

I was afraid to ask, but I wanted to be clear. “Are your parents divorced?” I asked, doubting that was the case.

“No. He passed away.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling mortified that I’d indirectly insulted his memory.

“It’s okay. Not one of those things you know without being told.”

“Can I ask when he died?”

“About seven years ago. I know this will sound weird, but sometimes I’m jealous of my youngest brother. Beau was about six when it happened, and he remembers Dad, but not the way I do, you know? Sometimes I wish I didn’t have so much to miss.”

“I’d be willing to bet he’s jealous of you for the opposite reason.”

He gave me a sad smile. “I never thought about that.”

We turned up the main stairs, focusing on our steps. When we got to the landing on the fourth floor, I started again.

“What does your mother do?”

Hale swallowed. “Right now she’s working as a secretary at the local university. She . . . well, it’s been hard for her to hold down a good job, but she likes this one, and she’s had it for a long time. I just realized I began that sentence with ‘right now’ because I was used to her switching a lot, but she hasn’t done that for a while.

“Like I said when we met, my dad was a Two. He was an athlete. Went in for a surgery on his knee, but there was a clot and it made its way to his heart. Mom had never worked a day in her life—between her parents and Dad she was taken care of. After we lost him, all she was good at was being a basketball player’s wife.”

“Oh, no.”

“Yeah.”

I was so grateful when we came upon the parlor. How had Dad managed this? How did he sift through all those girls, testing them to find his wife? Getting to know one person was already wearing me out, and we weren’t even five minutes into our first date.

“Wow,” Hale whispered, admiring the setup.

From the fourth-floor parlors at the front of the palace you could just barely look out over the walls. Angeles in the evening let out a beautiful glow, and I’d asked for the parlor lights to be dimmed so we could really see it.

There was a small table in the middle of the room that had various cakes on it, and a dessert wine was waiting on the side. I’d never tried to set up a romantic evening before, but I thought I did a good job for my first try.

Hale pulled out my chair before joining me at the table.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I got several. These are chocolate, obviously,” I said, pointing to the dozens of tiny cakes. “Then lemon, vanilla, and cinnamon.”

Hale stared at the piles of treats in front of us like I’d actually given him something huge. “Listen, I don’t want to be rude,” he said, “but if there’s anything you want, you should grab it now, because there’s a serious chance I will demolish these.”