Constance (Constance #1)(38)

“Good evening,” Gaddis said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke, but I had to go into DC to put out a fire. Peter took good care of you, I trust? I hear you were brave enough to let him cut your hair.”

“Well, he was brave enough to cut it.”

Peter smiled at her joke but said nothing. He poured the wine and disappeared back inside the house. Vernon Gaddis raised his glass and waited for Con to do the same.

“Welcome to my home. Thank you for being here.”

“Thank you,” Con said as they touched glasses. She was anxious to get down to business but knew it would be a mistake to be the first to raise it. A silence opened between them. He smiled, baiting her. Nice try. She was young but she wasn’t stupid. Instead, she tried her wine and complimented him although all she really knew about the wine was that it was a white.

“You know, this was your aunt’s favorite spot in the house,” Gaddis said, breaking the deadlock. “When she stayed here at the island, we would sit out here for hours planning the future of Palingenesis. She loved this view, although it was better before we had to raise the seawalls again.”

“It’s okay, I’ve never actually seen the ocean before,” Con admitted. “It’s beautiful.”

“Never? How is that possible? You’re from Texas. How far were you from the Gulf? A couple hours?”

“My mom didn’t believe in vacations.”

“Your mom didn’t believe in vacations,” Gaddis repeated with an incredulous laugh. “So Abigail wasn’t exaggerating about her sister being a piece of work.”

Ordinarily, Con didn’t care for anyone bad-mouthing her family but her. However, she was willing to let it go in the interest of diplomacy. “My mom. My mom’s mom. Probably my mom’s mom’s mom. Being a piece of work is kind of the family line.”

“Abigail might have mentioned that as well. She was very fond of you, though.”

“Oh, I bet,” Con said too quickly. She had a lot of adjectives she’d use to describe the tone of the letter that’d accompanied the offer of her clone. Fond wasn’t one of them.

“Who do you think paid for your university?”

“My grandma,” Con said warily.

“No, your grandmother only wrote the check. The money came from Abigail. Quietly. So as not to rock you and your mother’s boat any further.”

Con wanted to deny it again, but she already saw the likelihood of his story. It had always been a mystery where Gamma Jol had come up with the money after Con’s mother had forbidden Con to go to school at UT Austin. Gamma had called it her rainy-day money, but now it turned out it had been Con’s rich aunt all along.

“Were you able to put it out? The fire, I mean,” Con asked to change the subject and get Gaddis off comfortable ground. It seemed to do the trick because his expression darkened.

“No, I’m afraid not. I was removed from the board of Palingenesis today.”

“I’m sorry. Was it because of me?”

“There were always going to be consequences for involving myself. I don’t know how Brooke knew that you and I spoke. Doesn’t matter now, I suppose. She’s been looking for an excuse for a long time now.” Gaddis refilled his empty wine glass. “Still, even though I knew it was coming, it was harder than I thought it would be. The company I helped found and build from the ground up escorted me out of the building like a common criminal.”

“It was me. I told Dr. Fenton that we’d talked.” Con saw no reason not to tell him—either he already knew and was testing her, or he would find out eventually. It would be better if it came from her now. “Didn’t know it would get you kicked off the board.”

“Did you, now,” Gaddis said, putting down his glass. “You talked to Fenton after we spoke?”

“Yeah, I saw her.”

“You saw her.” The distinction between talking and seeing apparently crucial in Gaddis’s mind. “So you went back to Palingenesis?”

“No, she came to me.”

“In person? She came to you in person,” Gaddis said as if she’d just told him the secret of turning lead to gold. “Interesting. And what did Brooke have to say for herself?”

“She said it was you who got me out of Palingenesis. That you’re responsible for the anomaly in my download.”

“Anomaly?” He sounded genuinely surprised. “What kind of anomaly?”

If it was an act, he was very, very good. Con reminded herself that Brooke Fenton had sounded equally convincing—these people didn’t get rich by being open books. She did her best to describe what Fenton had told her about the cluster of voids in her download.

“Son of a bitch,” Gaddis said, slamming his fist down on the arm of his chair like a judge with a gavel.

“You know what it is?” Con asked. “Fenton said she had no idea.”

“Oh, the hell she doesn’t. She’s cleverer than I gave her credit for being.”

Con waited for him to go on, but Gaddis drifted off in thought and looked out over the bay as if he’d caught sight of a foundering boat away on the horizon. Con stared lasers into the side of his head, willing him to speak. Tell me. When that had no effect, she reached for her own glass. If the whole evening was going to be a standoff, then it might be time to find out how well her new body could hold its liquor. Fortunately, Peter made a timely reappearance with dinner. Mixed wild green salad, blue crab bisque, and braised short ribs that looked determined to melt off the bone. She’d only eaten a few hours ago but was already ravenous again. She wondered aloud if she would ever eat or sleep enough again.