Lessig said, “My secretary will be in contact with you soon, my dear.” His eyes softened. “I was very sorry to learn of your mother’s recent demise. I had the pleasure of meeting her only once. At her wedding.”
“You were at my parents’ wedding?” His smooth way of talking bothered me—it was like watching a snake smiling at me, full of danger and slick charm. I had never imagined my parents were acquainted with him. Ginnie couldn’t stand to watch him on the PAV, but she’d never let on that she knew him.
“Oh, yes. Your father and I were old school friends. Well . . .” He shook his head and smiled. “To tell the truth, we were rivals. As good as I was in public speaking, I was no match for Alan Oberon. I suppose if he had lived, he’d have my job and I’d be doing local broadcasts in the middle of nowhere. He was, by far, the superior orator.”
I couldn’t do more than nod in amazement. His words were so friendly, could I possibly have been wrong about him? No, Ginnie and the Jenkinses didn’t trust him. I knew I shouldn’t either.
“I must say, Nina… May I call you Nina?” Lessig continued, assuming I’d consented, which… well, why would I refuse? “You are stunning. Not at all like most sixteens I’ve met, decked out in their ultra-chic. And, oh… a new tattoo?” He touched my wrist. “Well, you’re a Creative. I should’ve guessed.”
“Yes.” I didn’t like the feel of his hand on my tattoo—no wonder, since it proclaimed the truth.
“I shouldn’t be surprised, what with your father’s gifts, surely they’d be passed down to his only child.” He turned my hand over, studying both the wrist and front design. “Emphasis on truth, I see.” His finger drew a circle above the three cursive words surrounding the XVI. “As Pilate said, ‘What is truth?’”
“Who’s Pilate?”
“Pilate was a man who did what was necessary, while staying above the fray.” He met my eyes, then inspected my wrist again, before letting go. “You designed this yourself?”
“Yes. My grandfather says that we should always look for the truth, and that it can’t stay hidden.”
“How interesting.” He flashed what passed for a nice, fatherly type smile. “Your grandfather is a wise man. You are living with your grandparents now?”
“Not exactly.” I wasn’t sure how much to tell him. But then I realized, he could probably find out whatever he wanted. “I’m staying with friends. My grandmother’s in the hospital.”
His secretary, who was standing off to the side, was obviously trying to get Mr. Lessig’s attention.
“Excuse me a moment, Nina.” After a hushed conversation, he returned. “Angelo informs me that your grandfather was recently arrested. How awful. Is he still in custody?”
“He is.” I dropped my gaze.
“Oh, dear. It’s not your fault. Let’s take this into a quieter place, where you and I might discuss the further particulars of your grandfather’s case. I do have a bit of sway with the powers that be. Perhaps I can be of some assistance in procuring his release.” My heart stopped—could he actually help Pops? Or was this some kind of trick? He glanced around the room. Catching a serving girl’s eye, he beckoned her over to us. “A quiet place where Miss Oberon and I can have a discussion?”
“This way, please.”
I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to go anywhere alone with him. But if he could somehow help Pops… As I turned and took a step forward, I caught a glimpse of Paulette out of the corner of my eye. But it was too late. She stumbled right in front of me. I tried to grab her, but she lurched forward, splashing her drink all over Mr. Lessig.
His bodyguards, which I hadn’t noticed until that very moment, were on top of us in a nanosec. Lessig waved them off. “An accident. A simple accident.”
“I am so sorry.” Paulette dabbed at the rapidly spreading stain with a napkin. “Cory! Over here. Right away!”
The same serving girl hurried over with more napkins and took over cleaning up.
“You clumsy cow,” Paulette hissed quietly at me.
It was not my fault; Paulette had cut in front of me. But what would be the sense in accusing her? No one would believe me. I remained silent.
“Cory, take Mr. Lessig to Daddy’s room.”
“Certainly, miss.”
“My father’s valet will see to your clothes,” Paulette said to Lessig, who looked as if he would’ve rather stayed behind. But Paulette, pure solicitousness and condescension, was not to be denied the role of saving his suit and his dignity.
As soon as they were gone, I spun her around. “What were you doing? He was going to help Pops! You ran into me. I did not—”
She shook me off. “Get out of here, before they get back.” Paulette summoned one of the waiters. “Gene, take Miss Oberon downstairs. Have Reggie drive her home. Immediately.”
“Excuse me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here with my boss and his partner. I have to find them—”
Paulette grabbed my arm. “What you have to do is leave. Right now.” Her jaw was set, and there was fire in her eyes.
“You do not get to boss me around, Paulette! For your information, Mr. Lessig and I were discussing my grandfather. He offered to help me get him out of detainment.”
She threw her hands up. “Nina, are you really that naive? Go. Now. Before I call security to remove you.”
I didn’t protest. I turned and went, of my own accord. I’d message Martin and Percy later and make my apologies. Huddled in the backseat of the trannie, I consoled myself as best I could. So much for parties. So much for trying to be someone I wasn’t.
XXXIII
When I got home, it was fifteen minutes to midnight. Reggie dropped me off without so much as a Happy New Year. The minute I got in the front door, I stepped out of the heels. “Aaahhh.” At least part of me could feel good.
I padded into what I expected to be an empty room. Instead, Chris was on the floor, leaning back against the couch, where Dee was sound asleep. He leaped up, his finger to his lips. I followed him into the kitchen.
“She zonked out half an hour ago. You know, I haven’t watched Arianna Lightfoot since Wei was Dee’s age. It was kind of… wait a sec.” He checked out the cook center timer. “What are you doing back so soon? It’s not even midnight. Was the party that bad?”
Without any warning, I burst into tears. Chris moved closer, intending to comfort me, but I held up my hand. As soon as I gained control of my emotions, I told him about my whole evening, concluding with, “Kasimir Lessig was going to help Pops, but Paulette spilled wine all over him. She claimed it was my fault and threw me out.” I sounded like a sulky Pre. I looked away, catching my breath. “I should never have gone. I don’t belong with people like that. They wouldn’t stop looking at me. It was awful.”
“Wow.” He ran his hands through his hair. “It sounds awful. You want me to make you some tea or something?”
“Tea’s fine.” I sat down at the table while he bustled about the kitchen. In ten minutes, the steaming liquid was evaporating the edges of my disgrace.
“You know, I’ll bet people were looking at you because you look beautiful.”
I managed a half smile. “I’m not used to that kind of attention.”
“Well, you’d better get used to it.” He reached over, lifting the hair out of my eyes. “You’re a very pretty girl.”
“In someone else’s clothes,” I said, swirling the tea in my cup. “It’s exactly like playing dress-up.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with the clothes, or the hair, or makeup, or anything external. You know, you can’t judge a vid by its promo.”