Chapter 4: Then I Step Down

Christian didn't look at his grandfather.

He looked at me.

I waited for him to let go of my hand under the table.

He didn't.

He laced his fingers through mine instead and lifted our hands onto the white tablecloth, where everyone could see them.

"Then I'll step down," he said.

Deirdre's spoon clattered into her bowl.

"Christian, don't be dramatic."

"I built Kane Air from four planes to ninety," he said. "It'll survive a Friday without me. My marriage might not."

"She's cheating on you," Portia said. "It's right there. In color."

"I've seen them."

"And you're still defending her?"

He turned his head slowly toward Portia.

"You posted my hand on your Instagram last week," he said.

"From a bar I was in for nine minutes, because you followed me into it. Should I have my wife divorce me over that?"

Portia's cheeks went pink under her powder.

"That was nothing."

"So is this," Christian said.

He stood, and pulled me up with him.

"Thank you for lunch, Grandfather. The soup was cold."

Walter's face went dark red.

"If you walk out that door, don't expect the chairman's office to be waiting when you come back."

"I never expected anything from this house," Christian said. "That's why I built my own."

He walked me out through the portrait hall.

Eight dead Kanes watched us go.

Behind us I heard Deirdre say, "Well. That's settled, then," like somebody had passed her the salt.

In the car, I pulled my hand back.

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