The Kings IV I

27

a week later

Jo

"Oh, how kind it was for the two of you to fly your private jets to Chicago to have lunch with us."

I pulled my sunglasses off of my face, a smile tugging at my lips at the sight of Dad and Abuelo.

"It's been some time, mi chico," Val greeted, smiling as he roughly gripped my shoulder.

"Still got it, old man?" I teased, giving him an equally as hard squeeze.

"More than you'll ever have," he winked.

I shook my head, smiling at Dad. "Hey."

"How are you?" He asked, embracing me in a shameless hug. I pulled away from him, flexing my jaw.

"I'm good."

"And Fred?"

"Uh, running a little late. His wife actually likes him at the moment."

Dad looked over at me as we walked towards our table, an eyebrow lifted. "Oh?"

"Long story, not a lot of time to tell it," I said, taking my seat at our reserved table on the sky deck.

"Plenty of time to tell it," Dad said, grabbing a glass of water from the table.

I shook my head, placing my sunglasses back on my face. I liked the sun, but not when it was beating down on me.

"Rain check," I muttered, watching Fred walk over to the three of us.

"No, no," Abuelo said, shaking his head, "see, my son didn't raise you like that. You face your problems head on, hijo."

Fred sat next to me. "Talking about Lena?"

I squinted, looking away from the three men that were all on my case currently. "No."

"Yes," Abuelo answered, biting into one of the complimentary snacks on the table.

Fred leaned back in his chair. "Make love to her."

He and Abuelo chuckled, making me shake my head. "Nope, that's part of the problem. We have too much sex."

Fred snorted. "Never heard of anyone complain about that."

"I'm saying," Dad muttered, looking towards the buildings to avoid eye contact.

"May I offer you a glass of champagne?" The waitress asked, smiling down at me.

"Yeah, all of them," I said, grabbing two off of her tray.

Fred smiled up at her, grabbing a glass. "Thank you."

"Guess what I got to miss today?" Dad said, folding his hands in his lap.

"What's that?" Fred asked.

"Adora giving Arabella the talk."

I knitted my eyebrows together. "No. She's still a baby."

"She's going on thirteen," Abuelo said, shrugging.

"And you two got the talk at eleven."

"Not the same," I said, shaking my head.

"Agreed," Dad muttered, tipping back his glass of champagne.

"Misogyny, guys," Fred muttered, shaking his head as he looked down at his menu, "and I can tell you right now, she's going to grow up to be a firecracker. So you better get that under control."