Daddy stands there, with his right hand still pressed against the door. His other hand is fixing a black-stoned cufflink – onyx, I think – to the end of his right sleeve. His laundry must not be finished, because the mostly gray, white-striped button-down has huge brown blotches at the ends of the sleeves. I haven’t seen him wear this shirt in years. The rest of his outfit is sharp, though; a black coat folded neatly over his left forearm matches his black trousers and necktie.

Daddy smiles through his short beard. “How do my two favorite bookends fare this afternoon?”

Max stands and looks Daddy over. “We’re doing fine.” I would’ve agreed, but something in my brother’s voice gives me second thoughts. “We were just working out some wedding wardrobe concerns.”

“Excellent." Daddy puts on his other cufflink and swings his coat around his head. His arms slide through the sleeves. "I love to hear you’re being proactive.”

I clasp my hands in my lap and sit up straight. “You look very nice, Daddy! Are you going to a fundraiser?”

He fastens the two buttons of his coat. “Thank you kindly, Klóe, but no. I must attend a long overdue meeting.”

I turn to the clock between two stacks of books on my desk. Its face and hands are set against a glass-walled box with wooden edges. The crank on the box’s top can connect directly to the gears depending on how far it’s pushed in. Between my ears and my eyes, though, I might need to take it outside and wind it before the sun goes down.

“Isn’t it too late to have a business meeting?”

Daddy grins. “I assure you, she will make time for me.”

Max walks to the bedside table near Daddy. They’re nearly the same height. It really is almost like looking in a time-passing mirror.

Max speaks so softly, with so much concern, that I can barely hear him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you, Dad?” He glances at me, then clears his throat. “This deal might turn out bigger than you think.”

Daddy chuckles and claps his hands onto Max's shoulders. “I am, in fact, sure. Bastien and I will have our best specialists at our disposal. You have far more important things to worry about right now, Maximus. I don’t want my business to delay your starting your own branch of the DiRossi family tree."

Max narrows his eyes. “How many are coming with you?”

Daddy lowers his hands to his sides. “All of them. I want to minimize the possibility of an unforeseen logistical runaround.”

I swallow a yawn. Since Bastien joined Daddy’s company late last spring, too many of my oldest brothers’ conversations have been turning into business talk.

I return to my book. Bolivar Bin’Howell Templeridge Saxtripe Colcut Quin-Tripe’s efforts to regulate and organize the expansion of his initial settlement on this peninsula is far more interesting than anything—

“Klóe.”

I’m not sure if Daddy or Max called to me. I leave my book open and twist around in my chair.

Max stands next to Daddy at the doorway. They both have their arms crossed over their chests, but while my brother looks away from me with a frown, our father looks me straight in the eye. One corner of Daddy’s mouth turns up.

“I need you to wear something formal for dinner. Your new music tutor entered Quinlanti late last night, and I wish for her to become acquainted with the family and the estate as soon as possible.” Daddy turns to Max. “Will you and Hanna join your mother and siblings in welcoming our guest?”

Max straightens his back. “I suppose. Aside from the bridesmaid dress, we had no pressing matters to attend tonight. Will Angelo be dining with us?”

Daddy tightens his jaw and sucks in a long, deep breath. “I have no inkling about that shiftless wastrel’s evening plans. Tonight may be the better for his absence, as it seems to be the night for introductions; Dimitri's new romantic partner will attend the meal, as well.”

I raise my hand to my mouth to smother an excited gasp. “When did Mimi find a girlfriend?”

Max chuckles. “Calm down, you two, please. Dad, you’ve known Ikoiyo for years.”

I glare at Max. Mimi and I spent the whole day together. How did Max know before I did?

Daddy fusses with his coat sleeve. “This new phase of their relationship should be treated with the appropriate gravity.” He looks past me, probably to the clock on my desk. “Now, if you two will excuse me, the driver should be waiting for me.”

I hop from my seat, hurry across the room, and throw my arms around Daddy's waist. I press my head against his chest and squeeze as tightly as I can.

“Good luck, Daddy.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

I step back, and Max steps forward with one hand held out. “Yeah, Dad. Good luck out there.” His eyes and voice drop low once again. What’s he so worried about?

Daddy grasps Max’s hand, and they shake twice. Max pulls Daddy and wraps his other arm around Daddy’s shoulders.

Daddy’s eyes widen in surprise. Max whispers something into his ear, and Daddy laughs.

“It’s not as easy as you think, son.” He pats Max on the back and leaves.

Max stares into the hall after him, even after he’s gone.

I frown and tap his arm. He looks at me and, after a moment, grins.

“What’s on your mind, Klóe?”

I doubt he’s over what’s on his own mind, but he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. I wrinkle my forehead and ask the other question I have.

“Why did Mimi tell you he’s dating Yoyo before he told me?”

“Ha, no. He came to me a while back, and I had to drag the details out of him. The poor kid’s been waiting damn near five years for that elfom, so I told him to do something about it or leave her alone.” Max scoffs. “I’m just glad he came to me instead of Angelo about his girl troubles.”

I cross my arms. “Well, I’m an actual girl. And Yoyo’s friend, too. Why didn’t Mimi come and ask me for advice?”

Max chuckles and pats my shoulder. “No offense, Klóe, but the questions he had were beyond your skill set. On a related note,” he adds as he lifts the dress from my bed, “try not to call him ‘Mimi’ tonight, okay? It could diminish his manly charm.”

I hitch up my shoulders. “You just said it was nothing to get worked up about.”

Max rolls his eyes. “Yes, but this is different. You’re old enough to pronounce his proper name, so you’re too old to use the nickname. For Dimitri’s sake, okay?”

I slouch. “For Dimitri’s sake."

Max taps the threshold twice. “Great, thanks! I’ll see you in a few hours.” He flees down the hallway.

I close my door, sit on my bed, and pout. Ikoiyo and I already like each other. I’ve called Dimitri “Mimi” in front of her a hundred times; I don’t see why I need to change that now. The only person who would need to have a good first impression of me is my new music tutor, who should see me as I am anyway. After thinking a little more about the conversations, I decide to wear my goldenrod dress with the lace ruffles on the hem and half-sleeves.

I slide to my feet and walk to the bookcase next to my desk. I look through the eye-level shelf and remove a thick, leather-bound dictionary. I heave it onto my desk, open it, and search through its pulpy pages for the word “wastrel.”