Page 9 of Villain

All I can do is pretend he doesn’t exist.

“Well, please, let’s eat,” Flora says.

I take a seat between Reggie and Satan.

“I was just admiring the maze,” I tell them.

Frederick barks a laugh. “My grandfather loved that thing. Costs a fortune to have the gardener constantly tending to the bushes, but I have a lot of good memories growing up. Casper also loved it as a young boy. Didn’t you, son?”

Imagine one of your life problems being having to pay so much for a gardener to cut the maze in your mansion.

“Did you ever get lost?” I ask Casper, wanting to be civil to him since his parents are hiring me. Ignoring him lasted about as long as it ever has.

His glare is so intense I feel it like a physical blow. It wouldn’t surprise me if I set on fire. His parents’ presence is of no concern to him. He balls his hands into fists on either side of a pretty, floral-lined China plate in front of him at the table.

“No.”

“Oh, he did get lost,” Frederick says. “Was in there for an hour when he was about seven. Looked a bit teary-eyed when we found him.”

I love his dad.

I sit taller and smile like I’m a serial killer. “Really?”

“Enough,” Casper snaps.

Frederick and Flora laugh at him, and Reggie kicks me under the table. As if I’m passing up the opportunity to get some dirt on him, though. Besides, parents love talking about their children.

“Excuse my son, he’s rather moody today,” Frederick says.

“That’s not exclusive to today,” I reply.

Casper and Reggie kick me under the table this time, but I’m on too much of a high to care.AndI’m getting paid to do this.

Casper’s parents laugh. They’re the ones we need to impress here, not the grumpy twat still shooting lasers at me.

“All right, enough teasing Casper,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

Yes, that apology did hurt.

“We should discuss the event,” Flora says, smiling to appease her temperamental son.

“Do you have a theme or any particular colours in mind?” I ask.

“We’ve been through every colour scheme and event theme imaginable. We can’t seem to decide. Everything has been so overdone.”

Frederick loads his plate up with finger sandwiches, which earns him a playful scowl from his wife. “Breakfast was yoghurt and fruit, dear. Again,” he says.

Since everyone else is digging in, I take a cupcake and macaron from the China stand and pop them on the tiny plate in front of me.

Casper smirks down at my plate as if I’ve done something wrong. What? What did I do? Should I have grabbed a sandwich first? Who does that when there’s about thirty little cakes and sweet treats to choose from?

Even so, I pick up a sandwich with something white and squishy inside. It must be some sort of cream cheese.

His smirk grows so wide, I want to squish my sandwich into his face. I picture cream cheese smeared across his ridiculously chiselled jaw. It’s all that’s keeping me here. That and the fact that I want to continue eating.

“My wife would like something rather spectacular this year. We have done sophisticated for the last ten years. Now we would like something with… entertainment.”

Spectacular and entertaining.