All These Things I've Done (Birthright #1)(45)

‘Is that meant to be you thanking me now?’ Win asked.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem,’ Win said. He started unpacking his lunch from his bag. (I guess he didn’t want to eat the school option.) His meal consisted of various vegetables, including a roasted sweet potato and a long white one that resembled a carrot.

‘What’s that one?’

‘A parsnip. My mother’s trying to grow them in Central Park.’

‘Sounds dangerous,’ I said.

‘You want to try it?’

‘No, it’s your lunch.’

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘It’s sweet.’

I shook my head. My stomach was still wonky and I didn’t want to throw up all over the table. (Though maybe not such a bad idea, as it would have decisively settled the idea of Win and me as a couple . . . I don’t think a person can feel romantically attracted to you after you’ve vomited on him.) Win shrugged. He took two oranges out of his bag.

‘Oranges!’ I said. ‘We haven’t had those here since I was a kid. Where did you get them?’

‘Mom’s trying to grow those, too. She got a licence to start a grove on the roof of our town house. It’s not producing anything yet. These are samples from Florida. Here, take one.’

‘No thank you.’ I didn’t want to owe him any more than I already did.

‘Suit yourself,’ he said.

‘I really am grateful for what you did.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ Win said.

‘But I have to mention it,’ I insisted. ‘It wouldn’t be right not to because now I owe you.’

‘You don’t like owing people, do you?’ he asked.

I admitted that, all things considered, I would rather not be in anyone’s debt.

‘Well, here’s the thing. I didn’t have to do anything except ask my father. And trust me, Anya, there are plenty of drawbacks to being my father’s son and relatively few perks. While you could certainly say that there are’ – he paused – ‘things my father owes me, that’s not the reason he helped you anyway. He intervened because he agreed with me that your situation was unjust.’

‘But—’

‘But we’re even, Anya. You don’t owe me anything. Though I did end up doing the lion’s share of the work on the project for FS II.’

‘Sorry about that.’

At that moment, Scarlet returned with lunch. She slammed the trays on the table. ‘Ugh, lasagne again!’ she called. ‘And no Gable Arsley to pour it over!’ Neither Win nor I laughed, though I did smile a little. ‘Hmm, maybe it’s still too soon for Gable Arsley jokes.’

In my room that night, I noticed that Win had put one of the oranges in the zipper section of my backpack. I set the orange on my desk. Even with the peel on, it made my whole bedroom smell sweet. Though I knew it probably wasn’t a good idea, I decided to call Win. I told my self that if Charles Delacroix answered, I’d hang up. Luckily, Win answered.

‘You left something in my bag,’ I said.

‘Yeah, I was wondering what happened to that orange,’ Win said. ‘I guess you may as well have it then.’

‘Oh, I’m not going to eat it,’ I told him. ‘I’m never going to eat it. What I love is the scent. Oranges remind me of Christmas. My dad used to have a business associate who sent him a crate of oranges every Christmas from Mexico. None of us ever ate them.’ I was rambling, and this was embarrassing, not to mention expensive. ‘I should go.’

Win asked, ‘You want to know the real reason I tried to help you?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Well, you probably already know it but maybe it needs to be on the record,’ Win said. ‘It’s because I’d like to get to know you better. That was gonna be hard to do with you locked up at Liberty.’

‘Oh . . .’ I felt myself blushing. ‘I really should go. I shouldn’t even have called you. See you at school.’ And then I hung up the phone.

In the morning, Jacks came to the house to get Leo for his first day at work. Leo was still getting dressed so I went to talk to Jacks in the living room.

‘If anything happens to him . . .’ I said.

‘I know, little cousin, I know. Don’t you worry about Leo.’

I asked Jacks what kinds of things they were planning to have Leo do there.

‘Cleaning. Getting lunch for the men. Nothing that intense,’ Jacks assured me. ‘You made quite an impression on the old man, by the way.’

‘You mean Uncle Yuri?’

‘He said he’d marry you. If you weren’t related. And if he were fifty years younger. Et cetera. Et cetera.’

‘That’s a lot of very important ifs, Jacks.’

‘What I mean is, he was impressed with you,’ Jacks said. ‘As am I.’

I told him that I had to get to school.

I walked down the hallway. I knocked on my brother’s door, and he told me to come in. ‘Annie, I’m late! Help me pick a tie.’

‘Let me see,’ I said.

Leo held up a solid-pink tie and then a violet floral-patterned one.

‘Maybe no tie? I don’t think it’s going to be that kind of job.’