Some Kind of Perfect (Calloway Sisters #4.5) (4 page)

“A partial success, darling,” Connor chimes in. “I hadn’t said anything yet.”

I gag. “Your ego is revolting.”

He can’t restrain his stupid grin. I find myself eyeing his lips too much, so I focus back on Ryke. “Then what were you two gossiping about?”

“Sex.”

I roll my eyes. “Typical.” Though I don’t mention how my sisters and I talk about sex often. It’s not just a guy thing.

As Sullivan stirs again, Daisy rocks her a little more. “Will you watch her this Saturday? Just for a couple hours?”

My heart swells. “I’d love to. I’ll save you from all the evil cries.”

Daisy mock gasps. “Did you just call my baby evil?”

“Her
cries
,” I refute. “That only makes her part-evil.”

Daisy breaks into a wider smile. Whatever my sisters need, I will be there faster than a fucking roadrunner.

I flinch as the door finally bursts open.

About time.
Loren crests the doorway with Lily by his side. I frown deeply. Why is she shielding half her face with her hand?

Loren whispers in her ear, and they break apart to sit at the now vacant heads of the table.

“What’s going on?” My voice spikes an octave. I rise in my four-inch black heels.

“Looks like Lily and I dethroned you and your husband.” He swings his head to Connor. “Thanks for keeping this warm for me, love.” He even takes a sip of Connor’s coffee.

My husband’s features are unreadable and mostly trained on Lily. He even takes out his cellphone. Ryke is seconds from pushing himself to a stance.

“This isn’t about seating assignments,” I retort. “But let’s be clear, Connor and I always
sit at the heads of the table.” I snap at him to move.

Loren gives me a dry look
.
“Be careful, Queen Rose, you might break a talon.”

I growl and then collect my thoughts.
He’s distracting you, Rose.
From the real problem. My sister. Something’s wrong with my sister.

“Lily?” I say. “What’s wrong…?” I trail off as a male intern enters the conference room with a bag of ice. He sets it on the desk by Lily and then hurries out without a word.

I gasp as Lily drops her hand to clutch the ice.

“What the fuck?!” Ryke yells before I can.

She fumbles with the ice before pressing it to her red, swollen eye, a greenish bruise beginning to form. “I’m alright! No one freak out.”

“Too fucking late,” Ryke curses, already standing. Connor is on his feet too, typing quickly on his phone. Baby still in her arms, Daisy rolls on her chair over to Lily, both exchanging a few quiet words.

I whip my head to Lo. “Someone attacked her?” That’s it. I march around the table, find my Chanel purse on a chair, and rummage for my cellphone.

“Whoa—everyone stop for a second.” Lo has to shout louder because I’m not stopping. “Jesus Christ,
stop
, everyone!”

We all go still.

Lo isn’t joking anymore, his daggered eyes flashing hot. “Did you ever think that maybe we already took care of it?”

Now I am.

“How?” Connor asks. “Did you call lawyers?”

“
Yes
.”

“Did you contact police?”

“
Yes
,” he forces. “And you don’t even know what happened yet.”

“I got punched,” Lily tells us, and I have to force myself to stay put and not walk heatedly out the door and decapitate this motherfucker. “By a…thing.”

I frown, feeling Connor casually sliding closer to me. I grip the top of the chair so hard that my nails leave imprints in the leather.

“A
thing
?” I question. “What thing?” My blood simmers, picturing vile humans punching her—someone so grotesque she can’t even utter his name. “I’m going to strangle him,” I sneer. “Then remove his eyeballs, roast them over a fire, and
shove
them back in his mouth.”

Loren cringes. “And I thought my mind was a hellhole.”

Ryke pushes past the table towards the door.

I walk swiftly after him, securing my purse on my arm like a weapon.
Let’s get this motherfucking asshole
—Connor blocks us at the glass door.

He’s the most infuriating human.

“
Move,
Richard,” I say forcefully.

“Listen to Lo. He said he took care of it.”

I cross my arms. “Not to my satisfaction.”

“What you find satisfying, darling, is called illegal and a fantasy.”

I glare. “My nails
ripping
into his throat won’t be a fantasy if you would just move.”

“Are you feeding him his eyeballs or ripping out his jugular? You can’t have both.”

“I can. Watch me—or don’t watch me, Richard. I don’t care what you do as long as you don’t stand in my way.”

Ryke takes a step forward. Connor sets a hand on his chest and tells us both, “Let’s remove murder from our list of options on how to handle this situation.”

We’re both angry and upset. Of course we wouldn’t
murder
anyone, but we’d cause a shit storm until justice is served. In our circle, Lily is an easy target. She appears small and vulnerable, and I feel like it’s partly my role to protect her. Maybe Ryke feels that way too.

And we failed.

Ryke points furiously at the window that overlooks Philadelphia, blinds snapped closed. “They can’t fucking
hit
any of us.”

“Security has the guy!” Lo shouts. “I told you, it’s already goddamn handled!”

Ryke and I exchange a look of surrender, and we ease away from the door. I take a seat beside my sisters while the guys remain standing at the other end.

Connor pockets his cell. “You’re charging him?”

Lo’s jaw tenses. “With assault.”

“And then we burn his balls,” I add.

Lo tries hard not to smile. “Unfortunately the best we can hope for is a few weeks in jail.”

“It sets a precedent,” Connor says. We haven’t been able to charge anyone for flour-bombings, and this’ll be the first time we can swing an iron gavel. It’ll make a difference, even if it’s just a small one.

Closer to Lily, I inspect her eye. She drops the ice bag, letting me have a look. It’s terrible. Her eyelid even threatens to swell closed.

“I’m going to kill him,” I mutter. I can’t help it. His hypothetical death makes me feel better.

“If it’s any consolation, he didn’t
actually
punch me.” She squirms in her chair, red flush rising on her neck.

What?

Ryke stiffens. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Lo returns to his seat. “It means someone threw a dildo at her face.”

The room falls into a heavy wave of silence for two agonizing seconds. It only breaks when I stand from my chair, and Ryke turns towards the door.

“Heyheyhey!” Lily yells at us, even gripping my wrist to stop me. “Hot-tempered triad, cease!”

I roll my eyes but sit back down.

“We need to start airing more episodes of the fucking docu-series,” Ryke says roughly. “It could’ve prevented this.”

We’re the producers of
We Are Calloway
.

We control everything. We can frame the conversation how we like.

I remember the headlines after the first episode aired:

Daisy Meadows Tells Her Inspiring and Heartbreaking Story
. She talked about the Paris riot and growing up modeling.

Ryke Meadows and His Lonely Past.
He talked about hiding his familial ties to protect his father’s reputation.

Lily & Loren Open Up: Relationships & Sex Addiction.
They discussed, briefly, how they enabled each other as teenagers and fell deeper into their addictions.

Connor & Rose: The Real Truth Behind Princesses of Philly
. We were able to clear the air about Scott’s role during the reality show. In more detail than we
ever
had before.

These were just little pieces of our overall stories, but the truthful narrative has rebuilt our humanity in the eyes of the public. People hesitate to throw vitriol and more people come to our defense, but we’re only one episode in. Plenty more will help us. We just have one kink to smooth out before we continue. It’s why we’ve gathered in this office.

To determine whether or not our children will be involved in the docu-series.

< 3 >

June 2018

Hale Co. Offices

Philadelphia

RYKE MEADOWS

“What we decide will inevitably shape the lives of our children. For better or for worse, we can’t foresee, but we all have to make choices.” Connor leans forward in his leather chair after his ominous fucking declaration.

Somehow, I ended up on one side of the conference table with him and my brother, and Lo sits between us. This is a couple versus couple issue, but we’ve split up with the girls across from us. Lily between them.

I lean partly on the table, my boot on the seat of a chair. I pick up a tabloid, more of these magazines spread out in front of everyone. Rose just poured them out of her bag as “an example of what we’re dealing with”—and no one was surprised that she brought
examples
to a meeting.

I sift through a few and notice Lily and Lo photographed on nearly every fucking one.

Lily’s Baby Bump!
a few falsely say, printed a few months ago. Some aren’t horrible or inaccurate.
‘I’m Stronger Now.’ Lily’s Untold Story of Addiction, Family, and the Spotlight.
I check the date and then slide the magazine over to Daisy.

She peers at the headline with her two sisters.

“That was published yesterday.” It’s further proof that the docu-series is helping spread truths. Daisy smiles instantly at the sight of a positive
Lily article.

Lo rocks in his chair and swivels from side to side. “Here’s the thing, we were all able to grow up without the media.
This
”—he gestures to the tabloids—“didn’t happen until we were in our twenties.”

“I was sixteen,” Daisy reminds him.

Lo stops swiveling, locking eyes with my wife, a girl he knew since she was a little fucking kid. “Yeah. You were sixteen. And you were
perfectly
fine before the media came in.” Guilt begins to crush his features and his fight against it, brows scrunched, cheekbones like knives.

It fucking kills every part of me.

“Lo,” I start, but then Daisy speaks up for herself.

“I wasn’t perfect or fine before the media. I was sad all the time…and modeling was terrible. One of my theories has already proven true, so you can’t try to change it, Lo.”

He stops clenching the armrest of his chair. “What theory?”

“That even if the media never focused on us, I would’ve still gone to Paris Fashion Week alone. There still would’ve been a riot. I’d still face the same trauma I do now—but it could’ve been worse. Because I might’ve never been friends with Ryke at the time.” Her eyes flit to mine, pained at that idea. I feel my chest collapse. Back to Lo, she says, “And if he didn’t go to Paris, I might’ve died that night.”

Fuck that scenario.

Rose interjects, “Thank God that didn’t happen.”

“Let’s not give God anyone’s credit,” Connor adds, not able to say
Ryke’s
credit. I roll my eyes.

Lo sits forward, elbows on the tabloids. “You may think I forget about you, Daisy, but I don’t—I haven’t in a long time. I
remember
how the media harassed you.”

“My friends harassed me,” she says strongly. “And who knows, maybe they still would have, even without the media spreading rumors. Maybe they would’ve picked some other reason to come at me. I don’t think we should look at my life as a standard for what our children might go through. Mom was oblivious towards my mental health, and it’s not like we’re going to force our kids to do something they wouldn’t.”

Lily nods repeatedly, more at peace with her little sister than she’s ever been. Years of remorse buried. Daisy even exchanges a smile with Lily. I’m fucking proud of those two.

“Well said,” Rose tells Daisy while jotting down
notes
on a legal pad.

Lo notices. “Are you planning an exam after this?”

Rose shoots him an icy glare. “I won’t apologize for being organized when our children’s lives are at stake.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, “you and your husband are acting like we’re betting against the fucking apocalypse.”

“Maybe we are.” She scratches at a line with her pen, and I see her scrawling in neat cursive:
Ryke is unconcerned.