Read Online Undone, Volume 1 by Callie Harper - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Callie Harper
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bullet and headed up into the fray. The
elevator doors parted directly into my grandmother’s home.
“Asher. So good of
you to come.” A butler held open the door to the Upper East Side
home, but Gram met me at the entrance, her bright blue eyes brimming
with pleasure at the sight of me.
“Hi, Gram. Looking
good.” My grandmother could wear a wool suit with pearls like
nobody’s business. Like they were made for her. Actually, they
probably were, custom tailored from a tiny shop that mostly catered
to the royals. Gram’s father had been in the House of Lords and she
had married a peer, though he’d passed before I was born.
She kissed me on both
cheeks, then drew her arm through my own. I took comfort in her
vigor. At 83, I knew she was old on paper, but Gram seeming old in
person would really fuck me up.
“They’re gathering
in the drawing room. Shall I have Thomas fix you a drink?”
“You read my mind.”
“And old fashioned,
if you please,” she spoke to the side. Thomas nodded, then tucked
into the butler’s pantry to do her bidding. “Colton’s fuming
about you,” she informed me in classic Gram style, somehow managing
to make me feel as if she were on my team, warning me without
judging. “He’s extremely vexed over something or other.”
“Yeah, there’s this
video on YouTube. Makes me look pretty bad.”
“Oh, well,” she
scoffed. “People wasting time on that kind of drivel aren’t
worthy of your attention, now are they, dear?” She patted my hand.
Case closed. She really was a golden egg in the midst of a mile-wide
trough of pig slop. In my experience, most people in this world
tended to disappoint. Better to expect it than get blindsided later.
But that had never happened with Gram.
“Asher!” A small
bundle of strawberry blonde hair and a huge smile came flying at me.
“Gigi!” I gave my
little sister a huge hug. She’d taken after Gram, petite and
ladylike, yet also somehow unpretentious. “How you been?”
“Missing you!” she
exclaimed, linking through my other arm.
“Allow me to show you
in.” Gram led me into a high-ceilinged room with ornate draperies
framing floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park. Paintings
in giant frames, each with its own lighting, covered most of the
remaining walls.
My older brother, Colt,
stood by the fireplace, drink in hand, looking like he belonged in a
period piece set in Victorian England. OK, mostly it was the setting
around him but he truly fit in, shoulders back, spine straight, chin
angled such that he looked down his stern nose at me. Vexed, indeed.
My younger brother,
Heath, lurked over in the shadows in the furthest corner of the room,
dark and angry with a giant beard. He clearly wished he were anywhere
else. Last I heard he was living in Vermont in a one-room cabin with
no running water. At first that had sounded insane to me, but lately
I saw the appeal in getting away from it all. I nodded at him briefly
and he gave me a swift nod in response. I hear you, bro, I wanted to
say. I don’t want to be here, either. We weren’t close, but I’d
always respected Heath. At 24 he’d become one badass bearded
mountain man. I wouldn’t get on his bad side.
My great-aunt Gertrude
sat ramrod straight on a richly upholstered settee with a teacup
suspended mid-air en route to her mouth. Perhaps etiquette required
pausing one’s consumption of beverages upon the entrance of a new
party into a room. A year or two younger than Gram, I knew Great Aunt
Gertrude was a stickler for manners, preferably the absurdly outdated
kind.
The leather chair my
father had favored—as large and overbearing as his
personality—remained empty. It felt so strange to not see him in
it. I’d fought him so hard all my life. Now that he was gone I
almost felt unmoored.
“Allow me to
introduce you to our newest arrivals.” Gram turned to another
couple in the room.
I knew who they were
straight away, before she said another word. The
elevator doors parted directly into my grandmother’s home.
“Asher. So good of
you to come.” A butler held open the door to the Upper East Side
home, but Gram met me at the entrance, her bright blue eyes brimming
with pleasure at the sight of me.
“Hi, Gram. Looking
good.” My grandmother could wear a wool suit with pearls like
nobody’s business. Like they were made for her. Actually, they
probably were, custom tailored from a tiny shop that mostly catered
to the royals. Gram’s father had been in the House of Lords and she
had married a peer, though he’d passed before I was born.
She kissed me on both
cheeks, then drew her arm through my own. I took comfort in her
vigor. At 83, I knew she was old on paper, but Gram seeming old in
person would really fuck me up.
“They’re gathering
in the drawing room. Shall I have Thomas fix you a drink?”
“You read my mind.”
“And old fashioned,
if you please,” she spoke to the side. Thomas nodded, then tucked
into the butler’s pantry to do her bidding. “Colton’s fuming
about you,” she informed me in classic Gram style, somehow managing
to make me feel as if she were on my team, warning me without
judging. “He’s extremely vexed over something or other.”
“Yeah, there’s this
video on YouTube. Makes me look pretty bad.”
“Oh, well,” she
scoffed. “People wasting time on that kind of drivel aren’t
worthy of your attention, now are they, dear?” She patted my hand.
Case closed. She really was a golden egg in the midst of a mile-wide
trough of pig slop. In my experience, most people in this world
tended to disappoint. Better to expect it than get blindsided later.
But that had never happened with Gram.
“Asher!” A small
bundle of strawberry blonde hair and a huge smile came flying at me.
“Gigi!” I gave my
little sister a huge hug. She’d taken after Gram, petite and
ladylike, yet also somehow unpretentious. “How you been?”
“Missing you!” she
exclaimed, linking through my other arm.
“Allow me to show you
in.” Gram led me into a high-ceilinged room with ornate draperies
framing floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park. Paintings
in giant frames, each with its own lighting, covered most of the
remaining walls.
My older brother, Colt,
stood by the fireplace, drink in hand, looking like he belonged in a
period piece set in Victorian England. OK, mostly it was the setting
around him but he truly fit in, shoulders back, spine straight, chin
angled such that he looked down his stern nose at me. Vexed, indeed.
My younger brother,
Heath, lurked over in the shadows in the furthest corner of the room,
dark and angry with a giant beard. He clearly wished he were anywhere
else. Last I heard he was living in Vermont in a one-room cabin with
no running water. At first that had sounded insane to me, but lately
I saw the appeal in getting away from it all. I nodded at him briefly
and he gave me a swift nod in response. I hear you, bro, I wanted to
say. I don’t want to be here, either. We weren’t close, but I’d
always respected Heath. At 24 he’d become one badass bearded
mountain man. I wouldn’t get on his bad side.
My great-aunt Gertrude
sat ramrod straight on a richly upholstered settee with a teacup
suspended mid-air en route to her mouth. Perhaps etiquette required
pausing one’s consumption of beverages upon the entrance of a new
party into a room. A year or two younger than Gram, I knew Great Aunt
Gertrude was a stickler for manners, preferably the absurdly outdated
kind.
The leather chair my
father had favored—as large and overbearing as his
personality—remained empty. It felt so strange to not see him in
it. I’d fought him so hard all my life. Now that he was gone I
almost felt unmoored.
“Allow me to
introduce you to our newest arrivals.” Gram turned to another
couple in the room.
I knew who they were
straight away, before she said another word. The
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