Hold Me

I sit down and debate asking what happened, but I have a feeling it would stir up the hornet’s nest even more. “How’s the new job going, Dad?” I ask brightly instead.

My dad takes a deep breath, then another, and attempts something that’s supposed to be a smile. It looks more like a grimace, but I give him credit for trying.

Before he can answer my question, Julian leans forward, placing his forearms on the table, and says, “Tony, you may not be aware of this, but your daughter is now one of the wealthiest women in the world. She will want for nothing, regardless of her choice of profession or lack thereof. I understand that having a child during college is not optimal, but I would hardly call it ‘destroying her life,’ particularly in this situation.”

My dad’s chest swells with fury. “You think the child is the only problem? You stole—”

“Tony.” My mom’s voice is soft, but the inflection in it makes Dad stop mid-sentence. She then turns toward Julian. “I apologize for my husband’s bad manners,” she says evenly. “Obviously, we’re well aware of your ability to provide for Nora financially.”

“Good.” Julian gives her a cool smile. “And are you also aware that Nora is becoming a sought-after artist?”

I pause in the middle of reaching for a lamb chop and gape at Julian. A sought-after artist? Me?

“I know that a gallery in Paris expressed some interest in her paintings,” my mom says cautiously. “Is that what you mean?”

“Yes.” Julian’s smile sharpens. “What you may not know, however, is that the owner of that gallery is one of the leading art collectors in Europe. And he’s very intrigued by Nora’s work. So intrigued, in fact, that he just sent me an offer to purchase five of her paintings for his personal collection.”

“Really?” I can’t hide the eagerness in my voice. “He wants to buy them? For how much?”

“Fifty thousand euros—ten per painting. Though I’m sure we can negotiate for more.”

I stop breathing for a moment. “Fifty thousand?” I would’ve been ecstatic to get five hundred dollars. Hell, I would’ve taken fifty bucks. Just the fact that someone wants my doodles is beyond belief. “Did you say fifty thousand euros?”

“Yes, baby.” Julian’s gaze warms as he looks at me. “Congratulations. You’re about to make your first big sale.”

“Oh my God,” I breathe out. “Oh. My. God.”

I can see the same shock reflected on my parents’ faces. They, too, are stunned by this turn of events. Only Rosa seems to take this development in stride. “Congratulations, Nora,” she exclaims, grinning. “I told you those paintings are amazing.”

“When did you get this offer?” I ask Julian when I can speak again.

“Right before we got here.” Julian reaches over to give my hand a gentle squeeze. “I was going to tell you later tonight, but I figured your parents might want to know too.”

“Yes, we definitely do,” my mom says, finally recovering from her shock. “That’s . . . that’s incredible, honey. We’re so proud of you.”

My dad nods, still mute, but I can see that he’s just as impressed. And possibly beginning to change his mind about the potential of my hobby.

“Dad,” I say softly, looking at him, “I don’t intend to drop out of college. Even with the baby on the way, okay? Please, don’t worry about me. Truly, I’m all right.”

My dad stares at me, then at Julian, and then at me again. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches for the platter with the lamb chops and pushes them toward me. “Go ahead, honey,” he says quietly. “You must be hungry after the long trip.”

I gladly take the offering, and everyone else begins loading their plates.

The rest of the dinner goes about as well as could be expected. While there are a few tense silences, the majority of the meal is spent in relatively civil conversation. My mom asks about life on the estate, and Rosa and I show her some photos on Rosa’s phone. In the meantime, my dad gets into a political discussion with Julian. To everyone’s surprise, the two of them turn out to have the same cynical views on the situation in the Middle East, though Julian’s knowledge of geopolitics far exceeds that of my dad’s. Unlike my parents, who get their news from the media, Julian is part of the news.

He shapes the news, in fact, though few outside the intelligence community know that.

I have to give my parents their due. For people who believe that Julian belongs behind bars, they are surprisingly gracious hosts. I suspect it’s because they’re afraid of losing me if they alienate Julian. My mom would dine with the devil himself if that would ensure continued contact with her only daughter, and my dad tends to follow her lead when it comes to difficult situations.

Still, they watch Julian during the meal, eying him as warily as they would observe a savage creature. He’s smiling, his potent charm turned on full-blast, but I know they can sense his ever-present aura of danger, the shadow of violence that clings to him like a dark cloak.

When we get to coffee and dessert, Julian gets an urgent text from Lucas and excuses himself to step outside for a few minutes. “It’s nothing serious,” he tells me when I give him a worried look. “Just a small business matter that needs my attention.”

He walks out of the house, and Rosa chooses that moment to visit the restroom, leaving me alone with my parents for the first time since our arrival.