`How dare you touch my possessions without permission!' Her curt reply was audible only to him.
`But I—'
`You would have no complaint if I rifled through your pockets and picked up your personal effects?'
`Actually, no.'
`You lack breeding!'
`I do. Perhaps you could teach me to be more refined. Like you.'
Her face softened. She ignored him for ten seconds, then turned her head. `Your pleading is undignified.'
Warmth filled him. `But you like me.'
`You are not without appeal.' She glanced towards the podium. `Is this verbose man your father?'
`However did you guess?'
Hushed but excited whispers stirred the crowd before they broke into applause.
`Is the speech over? Everyone appears happy.'
`Oh, yeah. I suspect Laronte's shares just doubled, or maybe tripled. Dad just announced the discovery of a flexible superconductor that can run at Antarctic temperatures.'
`Is that good?'
Max nodded. `Yes, it's been a long time coming, and it's like the holy grail, the really big prize, for this generation's scientists. The discovery is key to the world's future electricity needs. It's one small step away from fusion and flying cars, or so they say.'
`I see,' Shahkara said, though she clearly didn't.
Max's throat tightened as fawning journalists converged on his father, as he descended from the podium. `Let's get out of here.'
`Do you not wish to converse with your father?'
Max glanced at the socialites also milling by the stage.
`He's busy.' As always.
Besides they'd spent enough time here to be seen and back up their alibi. The sooner they left, the sooner he could breathe again. He'd almost prefer to face a Taloner than his father's always-disappointed jibes. He turned to leave a second too late and stiffened as he heard his other name being called.
Chatter and laughter died. Max turned. Journalists and guests stepped away, allowing a clear path between father and son. A lady approached Liam McCalden, but he cut her off. `Please excuse me, I haven't seen my son all week.'
All month. Sweat greased his palms as his father strode towards him.
`You came, Hugh.' Liam's smile failed to reach his eyes. He lowered his voice: `Nothing on television tonight then?'
`You wanted me here, Dad. Or am I just what the cat dragged in? Again.' Max noticed Shahkara's puzzled expression and then noticed the drink waiter.
Champagne! Ignoring his new friend's wilting look, he accepted a glass and downed the drink in a mouthful. The bubbly tingled his throat before it hit his stomach, easing his tension.
`Nice to see you're demonstrating restraint, son.' His father gestured them towards an empty corner of the ballroom where he could taunt Max without risking eavesdroppers: `I see you brought a friend. How delightful! But without my permission.'
`This is my home, too, Dad.'
`Was, before you left. You can't have two addresses, Hugh. But you may return home any time. And the sooner, the better.'
Better for whom? `Please stop calling me that. You know I don't like it.'
`It is your given name, stamped on your birth certificate.'
`Another of your superb choices. Well, I guess this wasn't worth the trip. Time to go.'
`Don't be ridiculous, Hugh. I don't see enough of you as it is, and I'm keen to know the company you're keeping.' He glanced pointedly at Shahkara.
`Introductions? Or do they not teach any etiquette or common courtesy at that expensive private school still burning a hole in my bank account, despite you leaving home?'
Max really wanted to walk away. `Dad, this is Shahkara… Towers. We're at school together. Shahkara, this is my father, Liam McCalden.'
`Miss Towers,' he nodded. The emeralds in his signet ring glinted as he reached out a hand to her.
`Liam McCalden,' Shahkara nodded back, and encircled his father's fingers in an awkward I've-never-shaken-a-person's-hand-before clasp.
Oh, yes! Max so wanted to laugh.
`Have you known my son long?'
`Long enough,' she said.
`Then, for which of his bad parts didst thou first fall?'
Shahkara blinked. `I beg your pardon?'
`Really Dad? You have to mangle Shakespeare?'
`I merely wish to know, young lady, if you associate with Hugh for your amusement or his money. You must have a reason for keeping him company.'
`Your son is kind, sir, and helpful.'
`Kindness does not build empires. But he'll never need to lift a finger anyway, since I've already done it all for him. If only he showed the least bit of interest in being my heir, especially as he's no longer the back-up plan.'
`That's me: the ex-Plan B. Not all of us want empires, Dad.'
His father's eyes narrowed. `You're outspoken tonight. I'm not sure it suits you.'
`We were just about to leave. We have anywhere else to be.'
`Very amusing, Hugh. But please don't deprive me of your girlfriend's so-very eloquent company.'
`She's not my—'
`What do you think of the ball, Miss Towers?'
`It is an extravagant celebration. I commend you.'
He flashed her a smile. `The secret to a charity blast, Miss Towers, is to make it decadent. Costume parties are the vogue right now. Happening in all the best circles. I'm pleased you dressed for the occasion, though I can't guess your character.'
`I do not—'
`She's from Dr Who.'
`Oh. You share my son's love of science fiction? How marvellous.'
`I do not think you mean that, Liam McCalden,' said Shahkara, in complete innocence.
Max snorted. He couldn't help it.
`Hugh, where are your bodyguards?'
`I gave them the night off.'
`You are just brimming with bright ideas tonight. That one could get you killed.'
`I don't need the bodyguards.'
`I will not bury another son. Phone them. I want them close to you at all times.'
`Dad, I'm not a child any more.'
`Neither was your brother.'
`Then quit blaming me for his death!' Max's outburst drew glances from the nearest group of socialites. He smiled at them.
His father's brow tightened. `At least your brother had the decency to respect the McCalden name. My money pays for your lifestyle.'
Max's chest ached. `Lifestyle? I'm still in school!'
`Yes, but unless you apply yourself you won't get much further.'
`Maybe you could just start believing in me, then.'
`Two way street, Hugh. Give me a reason to. But I'm fast losing the patience to pander to you.' His father's supercilious tone was almost physical.
`When you move back home, we'll discuss this further and we'll look at universities.