That didn’t happen every weekend. Last weekend, she’d picked up Eddie, and the week before, it had been Jason. But something about this guy just wasn’t that memorable. The sex had been great, but he’d almost been too easy.
The maître de gave her a shallow bow and escorted her to the table where her parents waited. She growled internally at the term; she hated calling them her ‘parents’, but legally, Gary Carmichael was her father, even if she wanted nothing more than for him to disown her. The low din of the other diners accompanied by the classical music playing lowly in the background were all too formal, as were the round tables with pristine white cloths, light blue glass centerpieces with floating candles, and overhead fans that spun so slowly the stuffy air didn’t even move. The best thing about this place, in Callie’s mind, was the fact that they served the best mimosas in town, and they were unlimited. She could usually sneak four or five without anyone at the table taking note, mostly because Gary had eight or nine, and her mother was a lightweight who lost track of everything around three.
Callie forced a smile as she joined Gary and her mother. Her mother looked lovely, as usual, in a pale yellow summer dress paired with a tan three quarter sleeve sweater and some tan pumps, her hair was pulled back tightly into a French braid, and sometimes, Callie regretted causing some of the lines around her eyes that no amount of Botox or even a good eyelift could remove. She would still be such a knockout and would likely have a chance at television roles or something outside of modeling.
But it was worth the wear on Gary’s face. He’d been a relatively decent looking man twenty years ago, with an average masculine face, light brown hair, and rich blue eyes. Now, though, he’d frowned far too often, and his brow hung heavy and hid the weary eyes because he’d scowled for too many years. His hair had first darkened and then grayed, so his receding hairline included a strange salt and pepper mixture that just wasn’t attractive. And he’d put on what Callie guessed was close to fifty pounds, which he did not carry well.
His jowls sagged, and he didn’t even bother to smile at Callie as her mother stood to smile and hug her. “Hello, sweetheart. Have a seat. I’m starving.” Her mother greeted her that way every Sunday morning they met here and then proceeded to order the lightest crepes they served and only eat half of them. Apparently, she had her fill of calories with the orange juice in the mimosas and still suffered from the shrunken stomach shed acquired from starving herself throughout her career.
But Callie didn’t care right now. She would suffer through the formalities of being seen as a functional family and appearing to be the epitome of happiness for the next two and a half hours. Then, she would go home and sleep for a couple of hours, wake up refreshed, and call Rena to get together for a few real drinks at a lounge on the beach so she could kiss and tell. Maybe Rena would remember the guy’s name. Was she there when he introduced himself?
Shaking her head to clear the thoughts of the previous evening, she folded her hands primly and rested her elbows on the table while the waiter in his tidy white shirt, crisp black pants and perfect red tie served up her first mimosa. As he walked away, Callie asked her mother, “I didn’t see Spanky this morning. Is he alright?” The Shiatsu was always a good topic of conversation that didn’t cause arguments.
“Oh, he’s at the groomers today, getting the spa treatment,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “He’s perfectly fine and should be ridiculously happy when he comes home this afternoon.”
Callie held back a snort. Poor Robert, her mother’s driver, was often stuck escorting the little fur ball around alone while the woman sat at home or rode with Gary. At least Callie didn’t expect Charlie to chauffeur around a pet, and she never would. It wasn’t that she didn’t like dogs; it was that they were a big commitment she didn’t want to have, and she didn’t want to turn into one of those socialites who carried her little companion in a bag everywhere she went.
“Good, I’m glad. He’s your baby now that I’m all grown up,” she said in that teasing, childish voice her mother still expected.
Her mother reached over and stroked her arm in a way that let Callie know she was at least two glasses in already. “Darling, you know you’ll always be my baby. But I do need you to be very mature this morning. We have something very important to talk about.”
Danielle Carmichael never referenced anything important to discuss, and instantly, Callie’s guards went up. She had a feeling the topic of discussion was going to revolve around her trust fund. She had two guesses. Either she was going to be told that she needed to find another place to live by the time that fund was released, or her sweet Nazi stepfather had decided to put some sort of stipulation on it that, if she didn’t settle down, she wouldn’t get the money. Either way, it would have caused a scene at home, and here, she couldn’t make one. How cozy of the odd couple, she thought sarcastically, plastering her bright, toothy smile on.
“Of course, Mother,” she said, sipping at the drink in hopes it would hit fast on her empty stomach after the drinking last night and relax her. “What do we have to discuss?”
“I think we should order first. I don’t want to keep the waiter waiting,” Gary chuckled with his pig laugh that also wrinkled up his face like some old, worn cowboy. “Go ahead, Callie. Are you getting the usual?”
The usual was an egg white veggie omelet with goat cheese and a side of fresh fruit, but Callie was far too hungry for that this morning and felt she needed more sustenance to get through this talk. Besides, she thrived on shocking Gary. Shaking her head, she stared at the menu for a moment despite having memorized it years ago and then smiled up at the waiter. “I’ll have a blueberry Belgian waffle with light butter heavy crème, and strawberries on top, and a side of three slices of turkey bacon. And if you could add a soy salted caramel vanilla mint cappuccino with light foam, that would be amazing.” Her mother stared at her, practically drooling, and the heavy brow over Gary’s eyes dropped so low it looked as though he didn’t have eyes.
Satisfied, she handed the menu to the waiter and turned to her mother expectantly, waiting to see what flavor crepes she would order. Swallowing hard, the woman said, “Can we make that two?” Callie nearly fell out of her chair. Apparently, Danielle Carmichael still had a few surprises up her sleeve as well. Now, Callie was insanely curious, and she downed the rest of her mimosa, the drink server on the ball with one to replace it in seconds.
With a sigh and a grumble under his breath that Callie was glad she couldn’t quite make out, Gary practically threw his menu at the waiter and rasped, “Oh, hell, let’s just make it easy and do the same all the way around. But don’t make my cappuccino soy, got that?” The waiter gave a quick, formal bow and rushed toward the kitchen.
Callie looked back and forth between Gary and her mother and gave a nervous laugh with the new mimosa in her hand, ready to gulp. “Well, we’re more like a family all the time, aren’t we? So, we’ve ordered, Gary. Is it alright if my mother talks to me now?” She kept her face pleasant, and to anyone at a distance, her tone sounded polite. Only the people at the table with her could hear the acid dripping from the words with the hatred she felt toward Gary and the way he had to control every situation.
He cleared his throat and motioned toward his wife as if he didn’t care. Callie turned to her mother, sipping carefully at the drink so she didn’t seem to be imbibing as fast as she really was. Danielle cleared her throat and set her own champagne glass on the table. “Darling, we have some news to share with you about our family,” she began.
Gazing back and forth between the two of them, Callie noted the reluctance on her mother’s face and the discontent on Gary’s, and she groaned. “Oh, no, don’t tell me you’re pregnant, Mother. You’re past your prime, and your figure won’t recover. You’ll never be the same, and you’re in no place to raise a baby for another eighteen years.”
“No, it’s nothing like that,” her mother denied, shaking her head with an expression of almost disgust. “I
didn’t even mean to insinuate such a thing. No, honey, it’s much to the other end of the spectrum. Your father and I…”
“He’s not my father,” Callie interrupted, her tone severe. It didn’t matter what paper said or what setting they were in. Callie would not allow that reference to stand.
Once again, her mother cleared her throat, her cheeks slightly pink, whether from the alcohol or a bit of embarrassment at being called out like that, Callie couldn’t be sure. “I’m sorry, darling. Your stepfather and I have talked about a few things lately. We don’t travel together as much as we used to, and we have different engagements when we’re both at home. We’ve had a lot of differences of opinion lately, and it seems best that we separate and file for divorce.”
Chapter Four
Callie stared at her mother. After twenty years of dealing with this guy and his lack of attention to her, as well as his over-attentiveness to Callie’s affairs, her mother was going to leave Gary? Now, when she could get out and be on her own in just a few months, they were separating? What were they thinking? Of course, Callie was more than ready to be rid of the stodgy old bastard, but this could change a lot of things, and she needed to know the impact.
“Are you sure this is what you both want?” she asked cautiously. She also knew the whole ‘Hollywood’ style of filing for divorce and reconciling before it went into effect, and then doing it all over again. It made news, and she wouldn’t put it past Gary to create that sort of buzz at her mother’s expense. “I mean, it’s been twenty years. You’ve made it this far. Is it worth the hassle?”
Gary shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “If I want to get on with my life, I can’t have the two of you hanging onto my coattails. I’m not trying to be rude or anything…”
“But you are,” Callie spit at him.
He scrubbed a hand down his face and glared at her with his beady eyes. “Callie, you’re a drain, and so is your mother, if we’re not together. I’ve already agreed to alimony payments, and I’m not revoking your trust fund. I’ve also bought the two of you a house to move into at your earliest convenience. We haven’t settled our affairs in Europe yet, but Keegan’s on his way home this week so we can do that.”
Great, she not only had her own life turned into an upheaval, but now, it had to happen with the nerdy stepbrother in her midst. Callie made a mental note to spend as much time out and about as possible until she moved so she could avoid Keegan at all costs. Sitting up straighter, Callie nodded. “Okay, fine. I don’t have a problem with it.” Honestly, as long as her mother was taken care of and Callie got her trust fund, she said good riddance to bad rubbish. Never again would she have to lay eyes on this militant, controlling, ugly man again.
Reaching for her phone, she pulled up her schedule, looking at the best time to have movers come and pack her belongings, and when she could have everything transported to wherever this new house was. She also made a note to see if she could bring Charlie with her. She could probably convince her mother to buy a new car for her driver, and when Callie got her trust fund, she’d front him whatever money he needed for his restaurant if he found her a worthwhile replacement.
“I can have everything packed ten days from now, and I can have it all moved the following weekend,” she told Gary.
Her mother’s expression was pained, and Callie’s shoulders sagged. “What now?” she asked impatiently.
“I’ve already packed my belongings, and I’ve marked all the décor and furniture the movers will take. They’re coming tomorrow,” her mother told her. “You need to go home after brunch and do the same with your belongings.”
Callie scoffed and crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “You must be kidding me. You’ve known about all of this for how long now? Long enough to settle your affairs here and buy a house. And I get one day’s notice to pack. And I have to do it myself!” Her mother turned away sheepishly, and Callie glared at Gary. “You are a piece of shit for this, Gary. I’ll be so glad to be rid of you.”
“Maybe you’ll learn a little responsibility,” Gary shot back, his face turning a deep shade of red. His blood pressure was on the rise, and a small part of Callie got excited that maybe he’d have a heart attack. “Keegan is doing the same thing. He’s going to pack his own things and leave. I’m having my things moved, too. Do you think I bleed cash? I’m selling the manor to buy your life, and that means moving into a smaller place myself.”
Callie rolled her eyes. “Oh, dear, you might now have a sauna in your bathroom that you don’t even use, and you might have to combine your trophy room with your sunroom. I feel terrible for you.” She pushed back from the table, her appetite gone. “Mother, can you at least tell me where we’re moving?”
“We’ll be in a beach house about ten miles north of the city,” Danielle mumbled. “It’s pretty large, for just two people.”
That didn’t sound terrible, but Callie pressed her lips together, angry and trying to show a modicum of control in public. As for Gary, she thought he needed to hope she didn’t ever see him in private again. “I hope you’re going to be far away, Gary. And I’d wish you a long, healthy, happy life, but what’s the point? You’re miserable, and you make everyone around you miserable. So, enjoy your misery alone.” She stood and leaned over to kiss her mother’s temple. “I’m sorry, Mother. I can’t stay here right now. I’m not really mad at you, just frustrated that you didn’t warn me sooner.”
She threw up her hands in exasperation. “I wish I could have…” She trailed off, and Callie could finish the sentence without a problem. But Gary wanted to wait, and I couldn’t convince him otherwise.
“It’s alright. I’ve lost my appetite, and apparently, I have a lot of work to do. So, I’ll leave the two of you to gorge yourselves on your plates, and maybe you can split mine right down the middle like a divorced waffle.” She turned and headed out, texting Charlie to let her know she’d be waiting for him.
He pulled up to the curb within five minutes, staring at her with a confused frown. “What’s going on, Miss Carmichael?”
She wished she had a pillow to scream into. Through clenched teeth, she told him, “They’re getting divorced, and I have 24 hours to pack everything. By the way, I want you to come work for me, Charlie. That penny pincher will just fire you anyway.”
Charlie chuckled as he pulled away. “Imagine that. You were just talking about moving away. Are you a fortune teller, or are you just wishing things into existence?”
At this point, Callie wished she could take credit for something like that, but it wasn’t going to happen. She stared out the window with mixed emotions. Of course, life had to be better outside the walls of Hitler himself, but she wasn’t a big fan of change. She pulled out her phone again, texting Rena madly about the situation. Rena responded in kind, shocked and indignant, and they ranted back and forth about the cruelty of the short notice and being forced to do it alone. Rena offered to help, but Callie turned her down. She didn’t need any witnesses if she ‘accidentally’ scratched or broke something while she worked.
As Charlie pulled into the garage, Callie looked around and reveled in the fact she wouldn’t have to stare at the car museum anymore, either. She sat for a second after Charlie parked, and as she reached for the door, her driver said, “Miss Carmichael, I would be honored to come work for you. Just let me know the details, and we’ll work something out.”
She smiled at him in thanks and headed into the house. Considering she didn’t think she’d ever have a chance to come back here, Callie toured the rooms on the ground floor, deciding that, maybe, she’d put her name on a piece or two she liked and bring it with her. There weren’t many, but there was a beautiful vase in the sunroom she wanted, and in the formal sitting room hung a painting of her mother that was absolutely to die for, and she intended to have that and the frame it was in.
She stepped back into the kitchen, but she didn’t find Judith, the maid or Alex, the cook. She would have to make a point of telling
them goodbye, and she might even see if she could bring one or both of them to the beach house she still hadn’t seen, if for no other reason than to piss in Gary’s Fruit Loops. She ran her hand over the old cherry wood kitchen table where she’d hidden from her responsibilities so many times, drinking beer with some of the staff. She’d miss that, but nothing else.
Irritated at the amount of work she knew she had before her, Callie finally climbed the stairs from the grand entryway she tried to avoid up to the second story. She wrinkled her nose at the gaudy spiral staircase, the banister ornately carved and studded with gold and jewels. This was a good reminder of what she wouldn’t miss, and that had been her purpose for coming this way rather than up the narrow stairs that led off the kitchen up to the third floor where the live-in help stayed. She leaned on the railing at the top and gazed at the chandelier made of real gold and crystal, and she had this sudden urge to find a way to knock it to the ground. It made this place look like some palace from the 1700s, and it just wasn’t her style.
Forcing herself to let it go, Callie trudged over the custom Oriental runner that spanned from the far end of one wing to the other toward her room. It was part of the east wing suite, with two enormous bedrooms, each having its own office/study area. She had an entire library in there to pack up, and suddenly, she regretted telling Rena she didn’t’ want help and considered texting her back and begging her to come over.
This was going to be a workout, she realized as she entered her room, and she didn’t even have any boxes here. She snorted as she found a note on her desk from Judith, the maid, telling her she could find all the boxes she needed now resting in her closet. She reached inside and thought about packing her clothes first, but she didn’t much care for that idea. They could go in her hanging luggage so they wouldn’t get wrinkled.
Instead, she picked a small box, grabbed the tape roller that had also been left for her, and started filling it with the trinkets, supplies, and other small items on and in her desk. This was crazy. There was no way she was going to make it through all the packing in one day. What had her mother been thinking? Callie would have been quiet about it if she’d gone behind Gary’s back and given her some warning, a little more time to pack in an organized fashion. As it was, if she took the time to organize, she’d end up spending a week doing this. She had to just bite the bullet and throw stuff together. She supposed she could sort back through it in this new ‘home’. Or, she could leave it all packed while she found a place of her own.
Erotica: Handcuffing Inhibitions (New Adult Romance Bundle)(Erotic Sex Taboo Box Set) Page 10