The black sheep.
The rebel.
In a sea of black ties and decorum, he was covered in ink and attitude.
What I didn’t know, and what I couldn’t stop trying to uncover as I watched his parents to my right, and him to my left, was whether Bauer had chosen that role, or if it had been chosen for him.
“This chicken is bullshit,” he said as he leaned toward me. I caught a whiff of the same scent from the Jeep, spicy and clean and male.
The bite I was currently working on, and had been for a while, lodged in my throat when I choked.
“Bauer.” His dad sighed.
He shrugged. “It is.”
I tried to keep the smile off my face at the exchange because Lia would not have found it funny. My initial shock at seeing someone other than Finn at the door had morphed into quiet reluctance, then begrudging fascination.
That fascination was why I studied child development in the first place.
What made children become the people they were?
How much was biology? A coding in our genes that we couldn’t fight.
And how much was the environment they were raised in? The words spoken to them, the rules they were given, the praise they received, or didn’t as was sometimes the case.
Next to me was a grown man. He was tall and strong, unashamed in who he was as a person. But in front of the people who raised him, I watched the flip in his personality like someone had changed the channel on a television.
It was impossible for me not to imagine what it had been like for Bauer as a kid because two things were abundantly clear as I chewed on the chicken that tasted like cardboard.
His brother, Finn, was beloved by his parents. They were proud of his educational prowess, and the field of medicine he was pursuing. They raved about what kind of man he was turning into, all the things I’d known before walking into the dinner. That he was intelligent and kind, with a huge heart for serving others.
And Bauer was their other son.
There was a clipped way that Adele spoke to him.
A quickness in her glances, like she was put out by having to engage with him for too long.
But she was also clearly bothered by the attention he received from others.
The woman on Bauer’s left was far more interested in him than Adele, judging by the way she stared at his biceps straining his suit jacket, the width of his shoulders under the black material, and the hard line of his jaw under all the scruff covering it.
“Snowboarding,” she purred, leaning toward him until her cleavage practically fell out of her red dress. “That’s so interesting.”
He gave her a dry look. “I’ve always thought so.”
“You must have to work out constantly.”
“I barely have time to eat or sleep,” he answered seriously.
My lips rolled tight over my teeth, and I focused very hard on taking a sip of the sweet white wine that Finn’s dad bought for me.
Adele scoffed quietly under her breath, and I fought against a flare of annoyance.
Lia wouldn’t have been annoyed, I reminded myself. I knew my sister as well as I knew myself, and holy camels, it was harder than I thought to think like her all the time.
“Finn was so sick, honey,” Adele whispered conspiratorially. “Otherwise, he never would have stuck you with Bauer for the night.”
WWLD?
Lia would’ve rolled her eyes, so I did. “I’ve survived worse.”
She laughed in delight.
Being in on that joke with her felt slimy because no, he wasn’t Finn, but he was still a person. Her stepson.
It was the delight that pushed me just enough over the edge to say something. “But he’s not that bad, you know. I could do a lot worse for my date for the evening than a professional snowboarder.”
I thought I spoke quietly enough, but Bauer went still beside me.
Adele blinked at my gentle reprimand but waved a hand. “Of course, of course. He’s just not used to events like this. Not his crowd,” she said delicately. “Finn was practically born to impress people.”
Unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong. Finn was impressive. He was well-spoken and intelligent. He listened so well to what people were saying and what they didn’t. But one thing had nothing to do with the other, and if I thought about Bauer and what that kind of constant comparison could do to a child, it made that part of me that longed to help kids who dealt with things like that light with a righteous fire.
“Don’t we all know it, Adele,” Bauer interjected. “Trust me, I never would’ve suggested it if he hadn’t included something to sweeten the deal.” As he said it, clearly taunting her with his tone, he stretched his arm along the back of my chair. His thumb dipped dangerously, and I felt it brush the edge of my spine. I held very, very still.
Adele’s eyes narrowed dangerously, so I cleared my throat. “He could only wish, Adele. Just ignore him.”
Bauer withdrew his hand with a low chuckle that made the hair lift on my arms. Normally, it was the kind of male insinuation that would make me want to twist his balls up in a knot—I knew how, too—but it was so obvious that he was baiting her, trying to garner any sort of reaction from this woman, even if it was her contempt. Contempt, when you’ve been ignored and overlooked, was a preferable alternative, sometimes.
“So,” I continued, “the guy with the deep pockets, do we know where he’s sitting?”
Adele perked up. This I could understand about her, and why it pained me to see her treat her stepson the way she was. They ran a wonderful community center, helping at-risk youth with access to sports and arts and activities they might not normally be able to experience. I’d scoured their website with glee because some of their programs for kids were amazing. Speech therapy for children who couldn’t afford it out of pocket. Tutoring for students with dyslexia who weren’t getting the support they needed at school. Expensive tutoring, if their parents had to pay the bill.
“He’s at the table behind us,” she said quietly. “Don’t turn around, though. It’s too obvious. I’m trying to figure out how to go over there without being …”
“Obvious and desperate?” Bauer supplied.
Adele’s smile was tight at the edges. “Something like that.”
Remembering something Lia told me, I touched Adele’s arm to redirect her. “I checked with someone in the front office, and he’s been a Washington ticket holder for the past five seasons.”
Adele nodded. “He’s a huge fan of your brother’s.”
My smile felt like the first natural one of the evening. “I can understand that.”
“Mr. Harper would be perfect,” she explained. “He owns a Canadian team, and while he’s starting to dip his toe into philanthropic endeavors here in Seattle, he hasn’t made a major step yet. I think with his connection to sports, and how much we work on getting kids involved in athletics at the center, it would be a win-win.”
“Why wouldn’t he partner with a player? There are so many foundations set up for that specific purpose,” I said. Off the top of my head, I could count six current players on the Wolves roster who focused on exactly that and did a damn good job. My sisters and I had taken part of so many fundraisers over the years for various foundations, I’d never be able to count them all.
Adele froze, giving me a strange look.
My heart pounded uncomfortably. Lia didn’t ask questions like that, apparently.
“Well, that’s why you’re here, honey,” she said. Her voice was sweet and smooth, her face guileless, and her eyes wide. “I’ll make my way over there and say hello, and you come bring me my drink. I’ll introduce you, and voila!”
Voila, I thought.
Voila, because of who my brother was, this guy was going to hand over a check with a lot of zeros? As a plan, it felt about as stable as a toothpick trying to hold a Volkswagen, but I was keeping my lips firmly shut.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.