Four Of A Kind

Chapter 91: [2.66] A Brave, Stupid, and Interesting New Variable

Cassidy’s face went red. Her fingers curled around her fork until her knuckles turned white.

Sabrina waited for the explosion. The inevitable moment when Cassidy would slam her fork down and storm out of the dining room while shouting something inflammatory about Mother’s parenting or the family or Valentine Holdings’ obsession with optimization over humanity.

It didn’t come.

Instead, Cassidy took a breath. Set her fork down gently. Looked Mother directly in the eyes.

“You’re right. I’ll talk to the coach tomorrow and either commit properly or quit.”

Mother’s eyebrow lifted by approximately two millimeters.

Sabrina nearly dropped her fork.

Cassidy had just agreed with Mother. Calmly. Without sarcasm or violence or defensive hostility.

Something had changed. Something fundamental. Sabrina’s eyes flicked to Isaiah, who was very carefully focused on his fish like he hadn’t heard any of the exchange.

But his ears had gone slightly red.

Fascinating.

“Sabrina.”

Sabrina lifted her gaze from the fish she’d been methodically deconstructing into smaller and smaller pieces. “Yes?”

“You’ve been unusually quiet this evening.”

The observation hung in the air like an accusation disguised as small talk. Sabrina considered several responses before settling on the most efficient.

“I’m always quiet during dinner.”

“You’re always quiet everywhere.” Mother set her wine glass down with the precision of a chess piece being moved into position. “How are your classes?”

“Adequate.”

A pause. Mother’s eyes narrowed by perhaps a millimeter. Sabrina recognized the look. It was the same expression Mother wore when reviewing quarterly reports that contained numbers she didn’t like but couldn’t immediately dispute.

“Your teachers tell me you’ve been reading during lectures.”

So that’s what this was about. Someone had reported her. Probably Ms. Tellifari, who took personal offense whenever students demonstrated that her enthusiastic but ultimately surface-level analysis of Victorian literature could be surpassed by simply reading the actual academic papers she cited but clearly hadn’t absorbed.

Sabrina met Mother’s gaze without flinching. “I’m reading books more interesting than the lectures.”

Mother’s lips curved into something that might have been a smile if Mother were capable of genuine amusement instead of calculating assessment.

“Reading is acceptable provided your grades remain perfect. Are they?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Continue.”

That was it. Sabrina’s entire evaluation complete in six exchanges.

Mother turned her attention back to Isaiah, who had been quietly eating his fish and probably hoping everyone had forgotten he existed.

“Mr. Angelo. Do you cook?”

Isaiah looked up slowly. Cautiously. Like Mother had just asked him to disarm a bomb instead of answer a simple question.

“Yes, ma’am. Basic things.”

“Basic is relative. Define basic.”

“Pasta. Rice dishes. Whatever I can make with limited ingredients and time.”

“Resourceful.” Mother cut a precise piece of fish. “Vivienne mentioned you prepared ramen for Sabrina the other evening.”

Sabrina felt three sets of eyes snap toward her. Harlow’s wide with curiosity. Cassidy’s narrow with suspicion. Vivienne’s carefully blank while her face slowly turned the color of the wine in Mother’s glass.

“She requested it,” Isaiah said evenly.

“I’m aware. Sabrina has particular tastes.” Mother looked at Sabrina with those purple eyes that saw everything and forgave nothing. “I trust you didn’t inconvenience Mr. Angelo too greatly?”

“He survived,” Sabrina said.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“He seemed adequately equipped to handle the task.”

Mother’s smile grew by another millimeter. “I see.”

The fish course disappeared. Mrs. Tanaka returned with the third course. Some kind of poultry with vegetables arranged in patterns that probably meant something to people who cared about food presentation.

Sabrina ate mechanically. The food tasted expensive and correct and completely joyless, which accurately described every meal at this table since Father died.

She watched Isaiah navigate the increasingly complex silverware with reasonable competence. Someone had definitely briefed him. Probably Vivienne, based on the way she kept glancing at him from across the table while pretending to focus on her own food.

“Tell me, Mr. Angelo,” Mother said. “What are your plans after graduation?”

“College. Probably UPenn.”

“Because?”

“It’s close to home.”

“Proximity to home suggests attachment. Attachment suggests divided loyalty.” Mother set her fork down. “If you work for this family long-term, we’ll need your complete focus.”

Isaiah’s hand tightened around his knife. Just slightly. Just enough that Sabrina noticed.

“My sister is my priority,” he said. His voice stayed calm but something beneath the surface had gone cold. “Nothing changes that.”

“I’m not asking you to abandon your sister. I’m pointing out that competing priorities create inefficiency.”

“Then I’ll be inefficient.”

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

Harlow made a sound like a dying animal. Cassidy had gone completely still, her eyes locked on Isaiah like she was watching a car crash in slow motion. Vivienne’s face had achieved a shade of pale that Sabrina had only seen once before, when Mother fired the previous CFO during dessert.

Mother studied Isaiah for a long moment. Her expression revealed nothing.

Then she smiled.

“Good. Loyalty is worth more than efficiency.” She picked up her wine glass. “You may continue your current arrangement. Mrs. Tanaka will coordinate your schedule with the household calendar.”

Isaiah nodded once. “Thank you, Mrs. Valentine.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t seen the household calendar.”

Mother took a sip of wine and turned her attention to Vivienne, launching into a discussion about quarterly earnings projections and brand positioning that made Sabrina’s eyes glaze over within thirty seconds.

She returned to her food. The chicken was overcooked. She ate it anyway.

Across the table, Cassidy was staring at Isaiah with an expression Sabrina couldn’t quite read. Something between confusion and respect and possibly the early stages of whatever emotion Cassidy felt when she didn’t know she was feeling it yet.

Harlow had started vibrating with suppressed energy, which meant she’d be cornering Isaiah the moment dinner ended to interrogate him about everything that had just happened.

Vivienne was systematically destroying her napkin while discussing market analysis with Mother like nothing remotely interesting had occurred.

And Isaiah continued eating his chicken like he hadn’t just survived interrogation by the most terrifying woman in Manhattan.

Sabrina took another sip of water and allowed herself the smallest smile.

The scholarship boy was either very brave or very stupid.

Based on tonight’s performance, probably both.

Which made him significantly more interesting than the previous seven tutors combined.