Breakaway (Beyond the Play, #2)(105)

I just hope that when I turn the lock, it’s not too late.





63





COOPER





March 3rd


Dad



Cooper, we need to talk.





There are things you need to know about your uncle.





Cooper, please pick up your phone





March 5th


James



Coop, what Dad has to say is important





What, are you ignoring me too?





You better still be coming to the gala





March 9th


Penny



Are you sure this is a good idea?





He’s more of a dad to me than my own father, Pen





Okay





Just… make sure you’re being careful





Did Seb talk to you?





No. I’m just worried about you





The Callahan Family Foundation Annual Charity Gala—yeah, a real mouthful—is my mother’s pride and joy, which means she expects all four of her children to be on their best behavior. Tuxedos and ballgowns are mandatory. Bickering is met with a swift glare. Most years, I use up my patience for small talk an hour in; there are always new friends of my parents to meet and make nice with. Last year, when Bex attended for the first time, people were so into her and James’ lovebird act that Sebastian and I snuck out of the ballroom and crashed a wedding going on next door. This year, I have Penny on my arm, and while I wouldn’t have it any other way, I have a feeling we’re going to draw a lot of eyes. She should, looking hot as fuck in her emerald ballgown, complete with strappy gold heels and matching hoop earrings, and of course that wildfire hair hanging loose around her shoulders.

The other difference is that I have Uncle Blake with me. Fuck you, Dad. I hope you enjoy watching me bring him around to all your benefactors.

At the entrance to the Plaza, Uncle Blake stops, adjusting his bow tie. “Haven’t been to this in years. Not since you were tiny.”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve been here all along. Dad’s been an asshole to you.” I scuff at the sidewalk with my shoe, squeezing Penny’s hand. Having her here means more than she knows, even if the past few days have been tense. I shouldn’t have pushed her to say those words. “He needs to know that you’re part of this family and not going away.”

Uncle Blake claps his hand on my shoulder. “To new beginnings. I move into my new apartment tomorrow. You can come see me in the city anytime you want, you and Penny both.”

I pull him into a hug. “And the job?”

“I’m back.” He squeezes me tight. “I couldn’t have done it without your support.”

Before we follow him to the entrance, Penny tugs on my hand. She pulls me into a kiss. “If you need a break, let’s find a closet.”

I laugh against her mouth. “I lo—”

Stopping myself hurts, but I do, cutting my own words off with another kiss. If I keep pushing, and she feels backed into a corner, she might give into something she doesn’t really feel—or maybe she’ll bolt. I clear my throat. “Sounds good.”

The person checking names at the door frowns when Uncle Blake gives his, but once I lean in and explain the situation, he waves all three of us through. My parents go all out for this event, but this year feels fancier than most; when we enter the ballroom, I can’t decide where to look. A live band is playing on a stage at the other end of the room. The tables are set neatly, each with a white-and-blue flower arrangement in the center and full crystal dinnerware. There’s not one, but two full bars, and servers in white shirts and dress pants walking around with trays of hors d'oeuvres. The chandlers overhead sparkle in the low light. I asked my mother once why she always had the gala during the worst part of the year, late winter in New York, when the weather is still bitter and any snow that’s left is sad and gray, and she replied she did it for that very reason; she wanted to give herself—and her friends and colleagues and benefactors—something to look forward to in the dreary days of early March. By the way Penny’s breath catches, I think she hit the right note between magical and sophisticated.

“I’m going to the bar,” Uncle Blake says.

I think the alarm shows on my face, because he laughs and says, “For a seltzer, kid, calm down.” He weaves through the crowd with his head held high, like he knows he belongs here.

“Want a glass of wine?” I ask Penny. “They won’t check IDs at this.”

“Um, sure.” She trails her fingers over the nearest chair. It’s gold, with a blue silk bow tied around the back. “This is really… really fancy, Cooper, are you sure…”

I brush my lips against hers. “You’re the prettiest girl here. Come on, I have people I want to introduce you to.”

Before we get very far, though, my mother spots us. She’s wearing a deep blue gown with a silk shawl tied around her shoulders. Her hair is done in some sort of complicated knot, held atop her head with a crystal-studded clip. The crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes crinkle as she pulls me into a hug, then does the same for Penny.