Protecting Her(81)

“Okay, we can go.” He waits until we’re out of the room and then he takes my hand, like he always does. When we’re in a public place, I like to always know where he is, so he’s been taught to either hold my hand or Rachel’s hand. And although he doesn’t need to do so here at the party, he does because it’s all he knows.

“Dad, can we watch a movie when we get home?”

“I think it’ll be too late for that.”

“But it’s not a school night.” He looks up at me with those big blue eyes. I find it hard to say no to him. He’s so cute, wearing his dress pants and shirt and tie. All the children are required to dress up for these parties, even if they’re going to spend the evening in the play area.

“Haven’t you had enough movies this week?” I ask him.

“Nope. I like movies. And I like watching them with you and Mom, even though you kiss sometimes. But I try not to look.”

Rachel smiles at me.

“Okay,” I say. “One movie, but it has to be a short one.”

“Are you leaving already?” Cecil Roth steps in front of me, blocking my path.

“Yes. We need to get home.”

I smile and act friendly, even though I’m not fond of Mr. Roth. He’s someone who believes in creating even stricter rules for our members. And he always votes for the harshest punishment for members who act out. So I try to stay on his good side, but he doesn’t like me because I married Rachel.

Right before I married her, Roth introduced my father to his business colleagues in Europe. That trip landed us two new clients in England and one in Germany, making our company international. Then I married Rachel, and Roth stopped helping us get new business. It’s just another reason why my father hates me.

“I remember you,” Garret says to Roth. “You were one of the grandfathers.”

Grandfathers? I’m not sure what Garret means.

Roth smiles. “I’m not a grandfather.”

“Oh.” Garret stares at him. “You look like a grandfather. You have gray hair and wrinkles.”

Rachel covers her mouth to hide her laughter. But I’m not laughing.

“Garret, when did you meet Mr. Roth?” I ask.

“When Grandfather took me for ice cream.”

So Roth was one of the men assessing Garret. I wonder if Roth assessed all the children, or just Garret.

“How are you doing, Garret?” Roth asks him, leaning down so he’s at Garret’s level.

“I’m good.” Garret steps closer to me. I think Roth scared him by getting in his face like that.

“We really need to go.” I put my arm around Garret’s shoulder and usher him away. “Goodbye, Cecil.”

“Pearce, who was that?” Rachel asks, coming up beside me.

“Cecil Roth. He’s a business associate. A friend of my father’s.”

“Is he one of the men who met Garret the other day?”

“Yes. I wasn’t aware that he was there that day, but according to Garret, he was.”

We’re at the door now and I give the maid the ticket for our coats, and the valet the ticket for our car.

“Wait here,” I tell Rachel. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Martha wanted to say goodbye to Garret.” It’s not true. It’s just an excuse so I can get Garret alone. “I see Martha going down the hall. We’ll be right back.”

I take Garret back to the room where the party is going on.

“I don’t see Aunt Martha,” he says.

“She must’ve left.” I pick up Garret so he can see the people in the crowd. “Garret, I need you to tell me if you see any of the men you and your grandfather met with last week.”

He scans the room. “I see Mr. Roth.”

“Besides him, anyone else?”

“I see Grandfather.”

“Yes, but do you see any of those other men?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Can we go home now?”

“Yes.” I set him down and take his hand and we meet up with Rachel.

“Did you find her?” she asks.

“No. She disappeared into the crowd. Is the car ready?”

“Yes. Here’s your coat.” She hands it to me, then helps Garret with his.

We go home and Garret watches his movie while Rachel snuggles with me on the couch. I’m trying to relax, but I feel on edge after being at that party. I don’t like the fact that Roth met Garret last week. And I really don’t like that Jack is no longer allowed to communicate with me outside of Dunamis meetings. I feel like I’m being punished, but for what? Surely that’s not THE punishment. The one I’m still waiting for.