The sequins of Cynthia's dress had the dazzling effect of a disco ball—and like a disco ball, I could see her spinning towards me before she arrived.

Accepting the inevitable, I drained the last of my drink.

"You arrived separately?" She asked by way of greeting.

"Leave it," I growled as my eyes searched the room for a server.

Cynthia tilted her head thoughtfully. "Is this what it looks like when she's mad?"

My eyes followed hers across the room to where Emma was pleasantly nodding along with something a donor was telling her. She tucked a loose strand behind her ear, but its short length caused it to easily slip out again moments later.

I hadn't known she planned on cutting her hair. Hadn't known she was even considering it.

I glanced down at my annoyingly empty glass and resumed my search for a waiter.

My sister sighed beside. "What'd you do?"

"None of your business," I muttered as I turned and stalked off toward the bar.

Never one to leave well enough alone, Cynthia followed me.

"It is my business if—"

"If it affects the foundation's bottom line?" I ask harshly as I placed the glass on the bar counter with somewhat unnecessary force. The bartender caught my eye and nodded before setting about to make me another.

Cynthia's claw-like nails bit into my skin through my jacket sleeve. "If it affects you, you little bastard." She hissed before releasing her grip and turning her back to the bar in order to face the party.

"You're my little brother." She added after a moment. "No one gets to mess with you, even if she is all-around delightful."

I sighed as I leaned back against the bar and watched as Emma struck up another conversation. "We had a fight, that's all."

I felt sister's knowing glance, but I refused to meet it. "The gag rule?"

I merely nodded.

She sighed heavily. "You try and hide it from her?"

"I was protecting her!" I exclaimed defensively just as the bartender placed my drink by my elbow. I took the drink and handed him a heavy tip.

"Well you can't protect her from it forever," Cynthia shrugged.

"I could try," I muttered.

To her credit, Cynthia swallowed her laughter. Mostly.

"Tell me, Tommy. What do you say to Emma when she tries to bare her own burdens?"

"I tell her I'm her partner—" At my own words, I closed my eyes and groaned. "Point taken."

"Do you even see her strength?"

My eyes shot open in affront. "Of course, I do!"

She shrugged again. "Then you don't respect it as you should."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I rounded on her.

"It means," she hissed as her claws dug into my arm again, this time alerting me to the listening ears around us. "She can handle it—if you let her. And it means take your own damn advice and stop being such an idiot."

"I'm not a—"

She nearly cackled at that. "For such a smart guy, you really are."

Cynthia hesitated a moment and then glanced over at me. "Have you checked the Twitter-verse this afternoon?"

"Of course not," I muttered as I raised my glass to my lips.

Before I could take another sip, Cynthia stole my drink from my hands and silently arched a brow as she took a rather unladylike swig.

I frowned but nevertheless slipped my phone out from my jacket pocket. I opened the app and did a double take before swiping between screens.

"She's a fighter," Cynthia commented as she watched me read Emma's words. "And she's on your side—so let her be."

After a few minutes, I closed my phone and took back my drink. I took a sip and nodded at my sister. "You'll have her back?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I had her back with Mum, didn't I?"

I nodded again and then handed my glass to her waiting hand. "I've got to speak with tonight's organizers..."

"Give me your phone first," she commanded as she held out her other hand. "I'll play interference with the family."

"Mum's going to be pissed," I warned as I took out my phone again and dropped it into her waiting palm.

Cynthia grinned wickedly. "Oh, she'll have nothing on Uncle Henry."

"God speed," I muttered as I turned and strode in the direction of the fundraiser's organizers.

"You, too, little brother," I heard Cynthia say before the hubbub of the crowded room filled my years.