The Girlfriend Shield

by S. A. Hunter

  An arm settled around my shoulders. My first instinct was to throw it off, but Noah anticipated that and grabbed onto my jacket.

  I relented and let him keep his arm around me. Time to be his fake girlfriend. “Hi, Noah.”

  “Be ready by five. I’ll meet you at the front of the school.”

  “Be ready for?”

  He sighed. “The dinner with Mother, remember?”

  “I don’t recall agreeing to this or being asked actually.”

  “Wear a dress.”

  “Noah, you can’t order me around.”

  “I’m not ordering you. I’m just telling you what’s going to happen. You’ll meet my mother, show her what a sweet girlfriend you are, and she’ll stop trying to set me up with an heiress.”

  “Sir. Yes, sir.”

  “I’m glad we’re in agreement.”

  “Is your next exam English?”

  “No, why?”

  “Because you seem to have a very peculiar grasp of the language. I’m worried that you won’t do well.”

  “See you at five.”

  NOAH WAS WAITING FOR me at the front of the school. He was wearing jeans and a hoodie. I stopped in surprise. I’d changed into a nice dress for the dinner. I’d expected him to dress nicely too. He smirked when he saw my dress. “Has Damien seen you in that?”

  I smoothed the fabric, feeling a little self-conscious. It was a navy-blue midi skater dress. It wasn’t sexy. It didn’t show cleavage, and it fell to my knees. “I don’t think he’d much care.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t decide if you don’t know him or if you don’t know yourself.”

  I felt my face grow warm. Noah complimenting me was not something I knew how to react to, but thankfully a gray limousine pulled up at that point. The chauffeur got out and opened the door for us.

  He stared at his phone for the entire car ride. I didn’t know where we were going but decided that I didn’t care. I recognized the entrance to the Hasbrook Resort when we turned into it. The Hasbrook was older than Noble. Some thought Noble’s location had been picked in relation to the Hasbrook. The wealthy could bring their kids to school and have an excuse to stay at the Hasbrook several times a year. It offered full spa services, outdoor activities like horseback riding and skeet shooting, and a Michelin four-star restaurant. I was very glad I had on my dress, but Noah’s choice of attire was even more inappropriate.

  The limo pulled up to the entrance and a bellhop opened the door. I’d never stayed at the Hasbrook, but I’d been there before. Cora had brought me to do the free historical tour they offered of the grounds. The crystal chandeliers sparkled in the entry hall, mesmerizing me. When Noah’s slipped his arm around me, I jumped in surprise. He squeezed my waist and directed me to the main restaurant. It required formal attire. Noah was not going to be permitted in. Was this his game? Did he want to be turned away? I was not going in alone.

  But when we entered, the maître d' didn’t bat an eyelash at his clothes. He smiled graciously and escorted us through the dining room. Walking through all the diners made me realize that I was still underdressed. Women glittered in ball gowns and the men were in crisp shiny black tuxedos. A number of people watched us as we passed through. I wondered if they recognized Noah or if they wondered why these peasants hadn’t come in through the kitchen entrance like they were clearly supposed to.

  The maître d' led us to a back room. He opened the door and bowed us in. It was a private dining room. It was probably used by large groups usually, but tonight it appeared it would hold only three. Ms. Nash was here. She’d been staring at her phone when we entered. I was relieved to see that she was dressed in business casual clothes. She was wearing slacks even, not a skirt. She rose with a gracious smile.

  “You must be Sarah,” she said.

  “Hello, Ms. Nash.”

  “Please, call me Patricia.”

  I wasn’t sure if she were serious, but decided to go along with her.

  “Thanks, Patricia.”

  She held her arms open, and I let her pull me in for a hug.

  She squeezed my arms, and asked, “Do you play a sport?”

  I stepped back and shook my head, bemused by the question.

  “Really? You’re just so thick. I assumed it was from a sport.”

  My eyes widened. Was Patricia Nash calling me fat?

  “Mother,” Noah said in a disapproving tone.

  She reached for him and pulled him to her, but instead of hugging him immediately, she cradled his face in her hands and cooed at him. “There’s my beautiful boy. You have to stop growing or I’ll need a box to kiss you.” She gave him a peck on the nose and wrapped her arms around him. He didn’t return the hug. After five seconds, he began trying to push his mother away, but she wouldn’t let him go.

  “All right, Mother. That’s enough.”

  “Nope, never,” she said.

  I began to get a little uncomfortable. There was a touch of desperation to Patricia’s affection. He reached back and pulled his mother’s arms from around him. He stepped back out of reach and let her go. Patricia appeared frustrated to have been pushed away and her gaze turned to me. I stiffened minutely.

  “Sit down, and tell me how school is.”

  I didn’t feel like I was included in the invitation. Noah pulled out my chair. I was surprised by the courtesy and thanked him quietly. Patricia stood by clearly waiting for him to do the same for her, but he pulled out a chair and plopped down. She stared at him a moment, clearly unhappy that he hadn’t tended to her. Her eyes flicked to me and she caught me watching her. I quickly dropped my eyes and put the napkin in my lap.

  With overblown grace, she sat down. No one said anything for few seconds. The silence was oppressive.

  “Sarah, Noah will not tell me anything about you! I hope you’re not as cruel to me.”

  I glanced at him to check with him on how I should answer. He was looking at his phone. I reached over and took it from him. He turned to me in surprise. “What?”

  I jerked my head at his mom. He sighed and slumped back in his seat.

  “What did you want to know, Mother?”

  Patricia sat up straighter and smiled at us. I didn’t like the smile. It was predatory.

  “How did you two meet?”

  “Damien,” he said.

  She waited, but he didn’t say more. I’d have to speak up to keep this going at all.

  “Noah saved me on the first day of school. Damien was being a maniac, and Noah stepped in to stop him.”

  “So you know Damien West as well?”

  “We’re in almost all the same classes.”

  “Angela and Damien set us up,” he added.

  I turned and waited for him to continue because this was his lie.

  “It was when we went to his house. Angela brought Sarah and Damien convinced me to come.”

  “And then there was that terrible fire,” she added.

  “At least no one was badly hurt,” I said.

  He snorted. “You were shot.”

  Patricia’s eyes widened.

  “The bullet only grazed me. I didn’t have to go to the hospital.”

  “That time.”

  I didn’t like bringing up the stabbing. I got anxious when I thought about it too much, though I knew nothing like that would happen again.

  Comprehension bloomed on Patricia’s face. “You’re the girl who was attacked!”

  I blanched at her revelation. “Yes, that was me.”

  “You know, that always confused me. Why did the assassin attack you? I would think Angela or Damien himself would have made a better target.”

  Of course, she wasn’t aware of how Damien had registered for every one of my classes and had become my threatening shadow at the start of school. Mr. Jones had seen it and had sent the assassin after me because he knew how much that would upset Damien. When I was hurt, Damien had been so distressed that he’d almost been committed.

  “The hitman mu
st have mistaken Sarah for Angela,” he said.

  Her eyebrows rose. “He must have been a very bad assassin.”

  I didn’t have any reply to that. Noah didn’t seem to either, since he changed the subject.

  “Dad asked me if I could spend Christmas with him.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  His mouth twisted sarcastically. “I told him that I wanted to see if you made a better offer.”

  “You want us to bid on you?”

  “He’s offering me a helicopter and the chalet.”

  Patricia threw her napkin onto the table. “He can’t offer you the chalet! The chalet is mine.”

  He shrugged. “Not my problem. You’ll have to take that up with the lawyers. Will they be joining us for Christmas this year too?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want for Christmas?”

  “Damian has invited us to Hawaii for New Year’s. I want to go with Sarah and not be bothered by anyone. Christmas is still open though.”

  Patricia swiveled toward me. I stiffened under her scrutiny. “I’ll allow you to go to Hawaii, but you will spend Christmas with me.”

  “Sounds good. We have a deal.”

  “Will Sarah be joining us?”

  I jumped in to answer before he could say anything. I was not about to spend Christmas with him. “That’s very generous of you, but I’d hate to impose, and my family really wants me home.”

  “And what have they bribed you with?”

  The question made me uncomfortable. “Um, eggnog?”

  Patricia pointed at me. “She wants to spend Christmas with her mother. I wish I knew what that was like.”

  “Not just her mother, her father too. I wish I knew what that was like.” he said.

  Patricia didn’t have a rebuttal to that. Thankfully the soup was served then, and we could all distract ourselves with the food. The soup was a dark consumme. It had a medley of julienne vegetables in it. Steam rose off the bowl. I dipped my spoon and lifted it carefully, blowing across the top. I realized as I blew on my soup that neither Noah nor his mother had reached for their spoons. I panicked about if I should put down my spoon or continue. But then I reminded myself that I was there under duress and my mother would be appalled if I let the consumme get cold, and horrified if I didn’t even try it.

  I tasted the soup and realized it was veal consumme. Of course, the Hasbrook would not skimp on the ingredients. No pedestrian beef consumme for them. Both Nashes watched me as I ate. “It’s very good,” I said.

  “Who are your parents, Sarah?”

  I blinked in surprise. I’d figured she’d know. “They work for Noble.”

  “What do they teach?”

  “They aren’t professors. My dad’s in facilities management and my mom’s in dining.”

  “They’re staff?”

  I nodded, making sure to meet her gaze and not back down. I was not going to let her shame my family.

  “Sarah’s parents are wonderful. I’ve been over for dinner, and we played board games. It was fun.”

  “Board games?” I wondered if she realized that her lip curled slightly.

  “It was only Monopoly,” I said. Noah was telling the truth, but twisting it to fool his mother. He’d been over after the fire at the West Estate. Angela and Damien had been with us. It had been nice, but he hadn’t been invited because he was my boyfriend. He’d been included because it would’ve been cruel to exclude him.

  “That sounds very...quaint.”

  “It was nice,” I said.

  I’d finished the soup. Neither Nash had touched theirs. It felt like they were having a battle of wills in regard to the food. Like they were waiting for who would break first. I didn’t understand it and would not participate. The wait staff removed the soup and set salads before us. I again was the only one who reached for a utensil.

  I couldn’t keep eating without commenting. “Aren’t you hungry?” I asked him.

  “I’m saving my appetite.”

  I looked down at the salad with a little worry. “How many courses are there?”

  “Only four tonight,” Patricia said.

  That wasn’t so bad.

  “You’re showing restraint,” he said.

  “I didn’t want to overwhelm Sarah.”

  Her comment seemed to indicate that she knew I wasn’t a rich heiress, but why all the questions about my family? Had she been testing me? To see if I would lie?

  “Sarah’s mother is a wonderful cook. I’m sure she knows more about the food than we do.”

  “I know how to eat it at least,” I said, taking a bite of the salad.

  He smirked at my jab. Patricia appeared to be tired of us and had picked up her cellphone. I could see where he had gotten his manners.

  “Do you have plans for college, Sarah?”

  Her question surprised me. I’d thought she was ignoring us. She was still looking at her phone.

  “I plan to go, but I don’t know where yet.”

  “Noah is going to Harvard.”

  He shook his head and was quick to correct her. “Mother would like me to go to Harvard. I’m not sure where I want to go either.”

  I wondered where Damien would go to college or if he’d go for that matter. I could imagine he might forego it completely, but I was sure his parents would want him to attend someplace.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, you’ll go to Harvard. Your father went there, your brother went there, you’d be a fool not to attend.”

  “Because Father and Vincent turned out so wonderfully.”

  I’d forgotten that he had an older brother. The Nashes didn’t mention Vincent when referring to their family, though the tabloids kept tabs on him. He had run afoul of drugs. He’d been in and out of rehab for a number of years. In that light, Patricia’s hatred of rehab made a little sense.

  “Have you heard from your brother?” she asked.

  “He’s still alive. Sorry.”

  Patricia’s lips thinned and real anger sparked in her eyes. I had to admit Noah’s comment had been harsh.

  “What is he doing? Is he still playing guitar?” I asked. I remembered an article had mentioned he was in a struggling heavy metal band.

  “No, he’s backpacking in Asia.”

  “Since when?” Patricia demanded.

  “Since he left.”

  She started tapping furiously on her phone.

  “He’s fine,” he said impatiently.

  “Yes, being in some seedy opium den is just what every mother wants for her son.”

  “He’s clean.”

  “He lies.”

  “Of course he lies, he has to talk to you.”

  She slammed her palm on the table. “You don’t know your brother! He’s very good at telling you what you want to hear and destroying himself when you’re not looking.”

  “No, you destroyed him. All the pressure to be number one, to be better than everyone else, better than himself, he couldn’t take the pressure. He cracked. The only way he could keep up was by taking drugs.”

  “That’s not true! He’s lazy and weak! He needs to toughen up and apply himself.”

  “Or he could be happy. He needs to live his own life. Not the impossible one you’ve picked out for him.”

  I’d stopped eating. My appetite was thoroughly lost.

  Noah reached over and took my hand. “I’m sorry. If you want to go, the car will take you.”

  I rose from the table.

  “Why should she leave? We’ve barely talked,” Patricia protested.

  “It seems you and Noah have a lot to discuss and catch up on,” I said. She couldn’t seriously expect me to sit there while they tore into each other, could she?

  She waved away my words. “No, tonight is about getting to know you and if you’re suitable for my son.”

  “If I’m suitable?” I couldn’t believe she’d come right out and said that.

  “Of course. And I have to say, so far, I’ve not b
een swayed.”

  “Mother,” he said.

  “Sarah, how are your grades? Do you have any special talents? Can you play an instrument? Can you paint?”

  “I make average grades. I have no special talents.”

  “Then why are you with my son?”

  “Because we like each other.”

  “But why? Seriously, Noah, what do you see in her?”

  “I see someone who is kind, forthright, and normal. All things I’m quite unaccustomed to.”

  Patricia smirked. “Those words could be used to describe Angela Blackthorne as well I believe.”

  “Maybe that’s why they’re best friends.”

  “Or maybe that’s why you chose Sarah.”

  The main course was brought out. It was Beef Wellington with asparagus spears and mashed cauliflower. I sat back down and picked up my knife and fork out of defiance. I was not letting Patricia chase me from the room with her snide comments. I was going to eat and enjoy it. I cut into the meat with a singular focus.

  “If you’d just meet Tara, I’m sure you’d adore her. She loves the outdoors, is an accomplished horsewoman, and is generally adored by her peers.”

  “Then why isn’t she dating one of her peers?” he asked.

  “Because her parents chose to send her to St. Claire’s Academy.”

  St. Claire’s was an all-girls school. It was considered a very good school for young women. It was located in Vermont. The young women who graduated from there went on to Vassar and Brown or one of the women’s colleges like Mount Holyoke or Agnes Scott.

  “Why isn’t she attending Noble?” I asked.

  Patricia turned to me in surprise. “What did you say?”

  “If she’s so excellent, why didn’t her parents send her to Noble? It is the superior school. It’s been my impression that girls who go to St. Claire’s are rather shy and awkward with boys. She doesn’t sound like a good fit for Noah.”

  “That’s ridiculous. The girls who go to St. Claire’s are excellent young women. The finest.”

  “No, that title belongs to the young women of Noble.”