He laughed. “Relax, cara. Every nuance doesn’t have to be explored.”
“You don’t know my family.”
He reached out and touched my shoulder, and I could feel the heat of his hand through my dress. “We can cancel if you want. I don’t want you to feel rushed.”
I appreciated that he cared enough to say it. “No, it’s not that. I don’t feel rushed. It’s just another big emotional step for me, dealing with all the inevitable questions from family and friends. I’ve been taking a lot of steps in that direction lately and it’s all shaky ground for me.”
“Are you sure it’s not something else?”
“Well, okay.” I fidgeted anxiously. “I wasn’t going to say it, but you have a right to know. There’s something else that’s worrying me.”
“And that might be?” He kept his eyes on me as he leaned against the wall again and crossed his arms over his chest.
I hesitated, then blurted it out. “Sex.”
Chapter Two
He blinked. “Sex?”
“Yes. My dad is going to take one look at us and know we’re having sex.”
I’d never seen Slash go pale like that before. Guess he hadn’t seen that one coming.
“And he will know this exactly how?”
He looked like he needed comforting, so I patted his shoulder. “I know you’ve probably had significant training in withstanding interrogation, but my dad is the best lawyer in DC. He’s going to take one look at us and know everything, including that innovative maneuver you did to me on the kitchen table last Thursday. Then he’ll do his famous stare, and we’ll both be struck by this insane desire to confess every secret we’ve ever had. I’ve run a statistical analysis attempting to predict his response after hearing about the kitchen table thing, and a vast majority of the scenarios did not end well.”
I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. “Well, what do you think?” I prodded.
“I’m speechless at the moment.”
I played with the folds of my dress. “See, I’ve been reading up on human socio-somatic interplay during a first meeting of a male suitor and the father of the female in question. I decided it would be best to come at this gathering from a purely scientific angle.”
“You didn’t.”
Did he know me at all? “Of course, I did. What I’ve discovered is that bringing a male suitor home can be a dangerous interaction on many levels.”
Slash paused. “Define dangerous.”
“Maybe we should sit down for a moment.” I waved toward the couch.
“Maybe we should.”
I perched as carefully as possible on the edge of the cushion in my new dress. Slash took a seat next to me, brushing his knee against mine.
“Well, technically my dad is the alpha male of the Carmichael pack,” I continued. “While he might seem all polite and agreeable on the outside, beneath his expensive shirt and tie he could be bristling. By wooing his daughter, you’re openly threatening his alpha status. After all, his only female offspring, who has relied on him for protection and guidance, intends to leave him to run around with a younger, virile alpha male.”
He grinned. “Virile?”
“Yes. Don’t distract me. Your scent is on me.”
He opened his mouth and then shut it without saying a word.
“Anyway, our scents are co-mingled because we’ve had sexual relations. That’s an important development because, until you came along, my father has been the main male figure in my life. Theoretically I listen to him and look to him for guidance and security. Now you, a young and unknown element, have come into the picture. It’s going to be a rough transition for him. I’m nearly certain he’s going to dislike you. A lot.”
Suddenly Slash wasn’t looking so confident, and I still hadn’t finished. This didn’t bode well for the dinner. Regardless, I owed it to him to make sure he fully understood the situation.
“My mother, on the other hand, will spend at least five minutes studying your butt. She won’t be checking you out—she’s attempting to guess what size tuxedo pants you’ll need for our wedding. We could end up engaged by the time we finish the second course. This is what you’re getting into when you meet my parents. That’s why I’m panicking.”
I gave him a moment to digest that. When he still didn’t speak, I sighed.
“Okay, my first instinct was correct. We should definitely call and cancel. I’ll tell them one of us is experiencing gastrointestinal distress. Do you want it to be you or me?”
He leaned forward, resting a hand on my back. “I appreciate the warning, cara. Nonetheless, I intend to risk it. I’ll try to handle things with your parents delicately.”
“Easy for you to say, Mr. I-Never-Get-Ruffled.”
“Why do you say that? I get ruffled all the time, especially around you. In fact, I’m completely ruffled right now.”
“Really?”
“Really. It’s a big step for me, too, but I’m willing to accept your dad’s posturing and your mother’s review of my posterior if it means we can stay together.”
I searched his face. “I feel a lot better knowing you’re so calm about this.”
“After that thoroughly scientific, not to mention daunting, explanation, I’d better not bring your attention to my now-sweaty palms.”
I looked down at our joined hands. “You’re nervous?”
“A little. I’m not above admitting I want to make a good impression on your parents. You’re important to me, so by extension, they’re important as well.”
“Wow. For some reason, knowing you’re nervous actually makes me feel better. That makes no logical sense.”
He squeezed my hand. “So, do you want to do this or not?”
I did a mental checklist of the pros and cons of having him meet my parents, and then put the list away. For once in my life, I had a feeling I’d make a better decision if I relied on emotion than prediction.
“Yes, I do, Slash. I really want you to meet my parents. If you’re game, I’m game. Let’s do this.”
Slash stood and helped me put on my coat. We held hands as we walked to his SUV. The chilly January air froze my ears. I shivered, wishing I’d thought to wear a hat.
Slash opened the car door for me. Before climbing in, I looked up and down the street. “Where’s the FBI?”
Slash was considered a national asset because of his extensive knowledge of the nation’s most sensitive computer systems, including the president’s. He was followed 24/7 by the FBI as part of a special security protocol not that different from the Secret Service. We sometimes joked about it, but I knew it wasn’t easy for him to be followed all the time.
He pointed to a dark sedan beneath a streetlight. It had its lights out, but the engine was running. A plume of smoke rose from the exhaust pipe.
“I’ve instructed them to keep a low profile so the car won’t be visible from your parents’ house.”
Good. I totally didn’t want to freak out my parents. I’d told them Slash worked on computers at the NSA. Given that I’d worked there before I moved into my new position at X-Corp, my parents would understand that. Maybe they wouldn’t ask how we’d met. There was no way I could tell them I’d woken up in the middle of the night to find Slash in my bedroom after he’d broken in to discover what I knew about a case he’d been working on.
Slash pulled out of the parking lot and I started talking to take my mind off the impending meeting.
“Basia called me today. She finally had time to catch me up on her vacation in Greece. She said she had an amazing time at the villa with Xavier.”
Basia had recently started dating Xavier Zimmerman, who was one half of the genius Zimmerman twins and brother to my other best friend, legendary cyber wizard Elvis Zimmerman. The twins had re
nted a villa for three weeks. She’d flown to Greece for a weeklong Christmas vacation with Xavier. Elvis had waited until she left before flying over to join his brother.
Slash kept his eyes on the road. “I’m glad.”
“Me, too, I guess. Seems like they’re going strong.”
Secretly I was worried Basia might dump Xavier. Although I adored my best friend, she was a bit of a free spirit whereas Xavier’s social skills were about on par with mine. Poor guy, if it happened he would never see it coming. He was crazy about her.
“Did Elvis leave for Greece yet?” Slash asked.
Just hearing his name made me tense up. Elvis and I were going through a sort of...friendship evolution. Now that we were both in relationships, things had begun to change between us, though I’d stupidly thought we could maintain the status quo. As I understand more about human social relationships and experience them for myself, I’m beginning to see that people and relationships can’t ever stay the same. But our evolving friendship was still tender ground for me. I was terrified of losing Elvis as a friend, but I wasn’t sure how to keep him as one.
“Yeah, he left a few days ago,” I said. “He loves the beach, so he’s probably having a great time.”
Elvis and I had met on a beach when I’d been slammed into him by a giant wave. He’d tried to help me up, but I’d stumbled and accidentally yanked his bathing suit down to his ankles. It hadn’t been funny then, but thinking about it now made me smile.
My silence caused Slash to pick up the conversation. He began talking about a new security protocol he’d been working on. He was trying to help me relax, and I appreciated it.
Finding a parking spot near my parents’ townhouse in Georgetown was always a pain, but by some miracle Slash found curb space big enough for his SUV. No room for the FBI sedan, so they kept circling.
After he’d parked, Slash pulled some flowers and wine from the back seat. Arm-in-arm, we approached the front door. Anxiety swept through me. It wasn’t too late to pretend I’d gotten food poisoning, was it?
I opened my mouth to suggest it, but it was too late. Slash had already pressed the doorbell.
My mom threw open the door before the first chime ended. She looked lovely as always, dressed in a soft green wrap dress and a diamond necklace that nearly blinded me. She immediately enveloped me in a hug, and I got a whiff of her expensive perfume.
“Oh, Lexi, darling, it’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you.”
She let go of me and turned to Slash, holding out her hand. “Hello. I’m Clarissa Carmichael. You must be Slash. It’s delightful to meet you at last.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.” He took her hand and kissed it. My mom beamed as he handed her the flowers and wine.
“Oh, they are lovely. Thank you so much. Please do come in.”
As Slash stepped across the threshold, my mom smiled at me and then fanned herself behind his back before giving me an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
Alarm bells clanged in my head. Slash was already making too good of an impression. I needed to find a way to let him know he needed to dial back the charm before my mother started suggesting baby names.
I followed Slash inside, and it felt nice to be out of the cold air. He helped me out of my jacket and I showed him where to hang our coats.
My mom disappeared into the dining room, calling out, “What can I get you to drink?”
The dining room was ablaze with the light from the chandelier and several candles placed in crystal candelabras on the table. My mom had brought out her finest china and crystal, the stuff she only used when we were entertaining US senators or any of Washington’s top power couples. She was at the sidebar buffet, fussing with the flowers Slash had given her and placing them into one of her vases.
“Water for me,” I said, following her. I wanted to keep a perfectly clear head tonight so I could stay on my guard.
“You will not have water. Your father bought some perfectly lovely wine. I’ve already poured a glass for you.”
Figures. She would take every advantage she could. Get me tipsy and then press her advantage to get details about my love life when my thinking was muddled. She motioned with her head to my usual spot at the table. Sighing, I picked up my wineglass from the table and looked over at Slash. “Do you want some, too?”
“I do. Thank you.”
Before I could pour it, he leaned over the table and picked up the open wine bottle, pouring some into an empty glass. He lifted his glass to me. We clinked them, taking a sip at the same time. He looked into my eyes and smiled, which immediately calmed me. So far, he was taking this whole meet-the-parents thing a lot better than I was.
My mother set the pretty purple orchids in the center of the table, then stepped back to admire them. “Perfect. You have a good eye for flowers, Slash.”
“I’m glad you like them.”
She turned to give me a closer perusal. “What a lovely dress, darling. It looks like a Miraka Chan design. Did you pick that out by yourself?”
“Of course not. Basia sent me a link and I ordered it online.”
“Oh.” Her disappointment was visible.
Guilt reared its ugly head. Mom had always hoped I’d learn to love shopping so that we could go on mother-daughter shopping excursions to her favorite, expensive boutiques. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell a Miraka Chan dress from a sewed-in-my-basement special. In fact, the thought of learning how to do so filled me with such dread that I actually shuddered.
“Well, it still looks very nice.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I glanced around, hoping to change the topic, and quick. “Where’s Dad?”
She motioned to the living room. “He’s in there. Tell him dinner is just about ready. I need to check with Sasha about our first course.”
I headed for the living room with Slash following. My dad sat in his favorite oversized chair, facing the fire blazing in the hearth. He was bent over the coffee table, working on something.
“Dad?” My eyes widened when I saw what he was doing.
He looked up at me. “Oh, hello, Lexi. Good to see you, sweetheart.”
Things were way worse than I expected.
“Dad...is that a gun?”
Chapter Three
My dad snapped the chamber shut and stood, still holding it. “It sure is.”
He turned toward us, a flash of surprise crossing his face when he saw Slash. It occurred to me when I told Dad Slash worked with computers, he might have pictured a pale, bespectacled scrawny kid. I tried to suppress a giggle, but one slipped out anyway.
Dad turned his laser gaze on me. I pressed my lips together, straightened my posture and tried desperately not to think about the kitchen table thing lest it show on my face.
“Lexi, introduce me to the young man there.”
“Ah, Dad, this is Slash. Slash, this is my father, Winston Carmichael.”
Slash held out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
My dad took Slash’s hand and shook it. Hard. For a moment we all stared at each other awkwardly.
I spoke first. “Dad, what are you doing with a gun? I didn’t even know you owned one.”
“Of course I own a gun. I know how to use it, too.”
Before I could reply, my mother called out for Slash, asking him if he could reach something for her on the top shelf of the buffet. Slash excused himself and left to help her.
When he was gone, I glared at my dad, lowering my voice to a whisper. “What are you doing? A gun? That is so cliché, not to mention sexist and insulting. I can take care of myself.”
My dad glared back. “I know you can. But there’s no harm in letting the boy know we’ve got your back.”
“He’s not a boy. He’s a man. Stop it already. You’d better be on yo
ur best behavior tonight.”
“Your insinuations wound me.”
“There’s no insinuation. You’re holding a loaded gun! Promise me you’ll keep the dinner conversation light, friendly and relaxing. No more guns. And no verbal bullets either.”
“Agreed, but I reserve my fatherly rights of getting to know him better. If I sense deception, all bets are off.”
“There is no deception.”
“Excellent. Then there won’t be a problem, will there?”
Mom called out to us. “Lexi, Winston, come to the dining room, please. Sasha is getting ready to serve the first course.”
Dad set the gun on the coffee table, straightened his tie and offered me his arm. Nerves jangling, I took it and we walked to the dining room. My dad’s assurances only made me more anxious. I took a series of shallow breaths and began to calculate how much time we had to stay before we would be able to leave without insulting my parents too much.
I slid into the seat next to Slash and had just put the napkin on my lap when Sasha came out of the kitchen holding two bowls of steaming soup.
“Lexi,” he said with delight when he saw me. He carefully placed one of the bowls in front of my mother and then me. He kissed the top of my head as he bent over me.
“Hey, Sasha. It’s good to see you. Can’t wait to taste whatever you made.”
“It’s corn chowder, one of your favorites. Wild salmon with asparagus is the main course.”
I’d always liked his Russian accent. He’d been a nuclear scientist in the Soviet Union, but now he was living his dream life as a private chef. In high school, I used to sit at the marble counter in the kitchen and he’d help me with my physics homework while he whipped up Beef Borscht.
“It’s been too long since you came to dinner,” he scolded me. “By the way, I watched every episode of you on that geeky television show. Who knew you’d be a star?”
My cheeks heated. “Well, I’m just glad my television stint is over. Hollywood is not for me.”
He turned to Slash. “So, this is the boy you’ve brought home?”
No Woman Left Behind: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Six Page 2