“Hey, Woodsy!” I chased after the old man, almost tripping over my feet, ignoring the walnut eyes on my back. He acted like he couldn’t hear me. “Stop, hold up.” He kept walking, so I sprinted, cutting him off halfway down the stairs.

“Oh, Mr. Grayson, I didn’t hear you.” He tapped his hearing aid. “Must be on the fritz again.”

Uh-huh, sure.

“She’s your niece?”

I’d set up a trust fund for his niece years ago; most of it was Woodsy’s money…but I’d thrown in a little extra.

“Yes.”

I raked two hands through my hair. “You don’t see the problem? You made it sound like she was ten or something. You never mentioned her working here.”

“You owe me nothing, sir,” he said.

“Woodsy—” I owed him everything.

“You owe me nothing, sir, but if you ever held any sort of affection for me, let her go. Whatever it is you’re doing here, end it.”

The idea of letting Snitch go shouldn’t have twisted my chest. Lottie was my end goal.

Snitch had gotten out of bed, watching us at the head of the stairs.

I met her eyes when I spoke. “I will.”

Twenty-Two

GRAY

“Will you talk to me?” Snitch asked for what must have been the hundredth time. “Are you mad?”

Ignoring her, I made my way past the beach to the docks. To most, the Fourth of July party was the one being held on the beach of Crowne Hall. With our famous glittering sand populated by assholes in tuxedos and bespoke dresses most women spent a year having designed.

For me and my sister Gemma, it was usually spent hopping from yacht to yacht, seeing who could get the most obliterated the quickest.

Snitch talked the whole goddamn way.

Where are we going?

Isn’t the party that way?

She was getting way too fucking comfortable. I was letting her.

“Please don’t hurt my uncle—”

I gripped her shoulders, and whatever she was about to say vanished.

“Be a good pet and stay.” I placed her next to an ice sculpture of a dick. “Don’t speak unless spoken to. You’ll be gone soon enough, Snitch.”

“Gone?” Her voice must have raised ten octaves. “What do you mean gone?”

Across the deck, Lottie leaned against the railing, wearing the sexiest fucking mini dress.

“Lottie!” I called out.

She lifted her head, smiling, waving me over.

“Shit, Lottie,” I said when I reached her, giving her a long once-over. “Are you trying to give everyone a stroke?”

She laughed.

I put my elbows on the railing, crooking my head to look at her. “You’re gonna fall if you keep leaning against the boat this way.”

“Will you jump in to save me?” she teased.

“Nah,” I said, shooting her a grin.

She shoved me. “You’re always so mean.”