by Odette Stone
“Sorry.” My fingers fluttered, releasing my hold of his fingers.
He scanned behind us. “You’re okay to drive.”
I did a three-point check, then slowly merged back into traffic. The adrenaline made me feel quivery and uncertain.
“I’m a good driver,” I lied, feeling a need to explain myself.
He didn’t respond.
“Okay,” I modified. “I’m not a terrible driver.”
Still no response. Would it kill him to make some polite conversation?
I snuck a peek at him, and his direct grey stare jarred me. I forced myself to focus on the road in front of me, feeling more self-conscious by the moment. This car felt like a pressure cooker, and I blamed him. His hands distracted me. His intensity threw me. He took up too much space. Too much air.
“Say something,” I demanded.
He paused so long, I wasn’t sure he’d answer. “I don’t think you should drive if Theo’s in the car.”
Irritation needled under my skin. Who did he think he was?
“Well, there are lots of things I don’t think you should do where Theo is concerned.”
“Like what?”
I wracked my brain and came up blank. “I don’t want to be rude.”
“Go for it.”
“You’re a guest in my car.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Just… look out your window and stop bothering me.” That might have been the rudest thing I could have said.
He did just that.
A long sigh escaped out of me. I hated my sharp tongue. Why couldn’t I be gentle and kind like Emily? Why did I have to rise to the bait every single time?
I glanced over at him, my eyes taking in his long, muscular legs.
He focused his attention forward. I should have said something and tried to ease the tension between us. But what would be the point of that? The guy obviously didn’t want to be friendly. So, why should I keep trying? Bayswater promised to be stressful enough. I didn’t need to concern myself with this man.
I flipped on the radio to mask the uncomfortable silence, but I couldn’t help but notice those big fingers, tapping to the beat of the music.
Chapter 2
We passed the massive, iron-and-stone gate and drove down the long driveway to the parking lot. Not wanting to pay for valet parking, I slowly cruised my car through the lot. If Porter noticed that there wasn’t a single car that sold for under six figures in the parking lot, he didn’t say anything.
We got out, and I reluctantly reached into the back seat to retrieve my heels and the big silver-and-blue-wrapped gift. Juggling keys and my purse, I turned around and almost ran into his chest.
He didn’t speak, instead he lifted the huge gift from my arms. I averted my eyes from his flexed muscles, cursing the world for gifting that body to Porter. Where were the ripped nice men of the world?
I shifted my weight onto the tips of my toes as I walked over the hot asphalt of the parking lot barefoot. We walked up the wide stone steps of the building, looking odd beside one another—a barefoot, former socialite and a bearded giant.
“Hold on.” I hopped on one foot, then the other, while I shoved my now dirty feet into my $900 shoes. I didn’t care. I hadn’t bought these shoes, nor would I ever be caught dead buying shoes for this amount of money.
Porter held the door open for me. We walked across the expansive, regal foyer and down a massive hall until we reached the club’s fine dining restaurant.
“Good evening, Miss Beth.” A hint of surprise colored the maitre d's voice.
“Hi, Gerald.” I didn’t know whether to smile or wince. “We’re here for the Hunter dinner.”
It seemed like he wanted to say something more, but instead, he nodded and led us to a round table in the corner. After a low bow, he walked away.
I glanced up at Porter, who stood, holding the gift. He was appraising me in context of this place. To think he thought I was part of this place was laughable. Every move I’d made in my adult life had been to remove myself from this world.
“You can put that on a seat.” I pointed to a random one.
“Beth,” a cool voice spoke from behind me.
I turned, taking in my mom’s lavender suit, perfectly coiffed hair and a string of pearls. Classic.
She placed a delicate hand over her chest. “Darling, you haven’t been here in ages. Why didn’t you tell us you’d be here tonight?”
We leaned towards each other and did two fake air kisses, not touching. We never touched.
“Didn’t know. Emily planned this. Today is Theo’s baby christening.”
She didn’t seem to hear me or care. Her eyes were narrowed on Porter. Probably focused on his open collar. Damn, I should have told him the dress code here was suit and tie. God forbid anyone should dress like a normal person in front of rich people.
She focused her attention back on me. “I meant to call you. Yates has been fairly begging us for information about you.”
My entire body stilled. Typical… the only reason Mom would call was to get information for my ex-boyfriend. Mom loved Yates. When I’d dumped his cheating ass, she'd been inconsolable.
She knew I didn’t want to talk about him. She knew this was off topic.
I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. “Well, you know what message you can give him for me.” My middle finger itched.
Must. Not. Raise. Finger.
“Beth,” her voice trailed like she held the weight of the world on her thin shoulders. “He’d love to talk to you. You should give him a chance to explain his side of things.”
Rage blurred my vision, but I held my tongue. Mom and I had extremely opposing views on cheating. In her book, as long as a man was well-spoken and knew which fork to use, infidelity was something that one should overlook. We’d already had this exact conversation before. Many times over. It always ended in disappointed sighs from Mom and unshed tears from me.
This day was not about Yates or me, so I nodded. “Thanks. I’ll think about that.”
It was sad how much that comment made her brighten. “Splendid. Well, enjoy your night.”
“You, too.”
I took a few deep breaths before looking over at Porter. A gentleman would have pretended he hadn’t seen or heard that conversation. Instead, he watched me fight my emotions with the first flicker of interest on his face since we’d met.
“That was my mother.” I forced my voice to stay light. Like explaining it made it better.
He held my gaze but didn’t say a damn word.
“Yates is my asshole of an ex, who thought it was appropriate to cheat on me. Then, he couldn’t quite understand why I took issue with that. His pedigree is impeccable though, so no one, not him nor my parents, can understand why I would take issue with him fucking my now ex-boss.”
I was so mad, I could feel tears well up in my eyes. I stood up, and he shot to his feet. “Excuse me.” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded strangled.
In the washroom, I splashed cold water on my face. This place. It killed me. There were too many memories, too many triggers here. It didn’t matter how much I worked to be my own person. The moment I stepped back into this building, I became the same person I worked so hard to grow out of. Bayswater wanted to suck me back in time.
I squared my shoulders and stared at my reflection. I would not let my emotional issues ruin this day for Jackson and Emily. This was their day. I had to do everything in my power to make it about them.
When I returned to the table, Jackson was holding Theo and Emily had grabbed the seat beside mine.
I took a deep breath as I sat down. “The service was beautiful, Emily. Truly, it was. I loved how Theo giggled.”
“He’s a really cheerful kid.” She grinned. “I lucked out.”
“He’s the cutest kid I know.”
“I think I saw your dad?” The hesitation in her voice soothed me. Someone cared, and I was glad that it was Emily.
“Yes.” I gave a little laugh that sounded so real, even I was convinced. “I ran into my mom. She says a big hello and congratulations.”
“How is she?”
“She’s doing great. We talked about how we need to catch up.”
Emily squeezed my arm. “That’s so great, Beth.”
I flushed when I made eye contact with those knowing grey eyes. The way he watched me sent shivers down my spine, and I wasn’t sure what to make of them. I wanted to lift my chin up and challenge him with my stare, but I couldn’t.
Nothing like being caught in a lie.
I cursed as Emily deliberately steered the conversation back to me. Jackson and Porter had been talking amongst themselves, and I thought I’d been doing so well at keeping the conversation about Emily.
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her delicate ear. “Have you heard from Yates?”
“Almost every day, but it’s more of a one-way conversation.”
“He still wants you back?”
“Who wouldn’t?” I playfully flipped, to cover the true dismay I still felt over that entire situation.
She leaned forward and whispered. “What do you think of Porter?”
He unsettles me.
I couldn’t say that, though, so I squinted. “You mean the mute caveman that looks like he recently walked out of some bush?”
“He’s really quite handsome,” Emily said with a serious face that only Emily could pull off. “And he’s such a great guy. Jackson and Porter go way back. And Theo adores him.”
That I needed to see to believe.
“Are you trying to set me up?”
She bit her lip. “No way.”
“You’re such a smooth liar.”
She laughed. “Come on, he’s really great.”
“Emily, you know I draw the line at Duck Dynasty.”
“Beth.” Her laugh turned into a snort that had Jackson smiling her way. “Wait until he shaves.”
“I’m not holding my breath.”
“He’s really quite breathtaking.”
“Still doesn’t help me if he doesn’t speak.”
“What happened on the drive over?”
I decided to omit the details about me almost rear-ending a car. “I think I managed to pull ten words out of him.”
“I was hoping he’d open up to you.”
“You overestimate my power of charm.”
“But you’re so funny and interesting.”
I leaned forward and dramatically whispered, “Pretty sure I’m not his type.”
“I think you are.”
“You’re adorable, but trust me when I tell you, we didn’t jive.”
“He needs some time.”
“He needs something,” I muttered when Emily turned away. “But it’s not me.”
Theo woke up, and while Emily lifted him into her arms, I used the time to look over at the man in question. He could possibly be hiding some good looks beneath his crazy biker look, but that wasn’t the issue. I could never be with someone as silent as him. It would drive me bat-shit crazy.
Beth passed Theo to me, who squirmed in my arms. I watched in dismay as she and Jackson left the table to do God knows what. Theo seemed equally dismayed as he watched his mom disappear from sight.
“Shhh,” I urged, anxiety tinging my voice. “She’ll be right back.”
“I can take him,” that whiskey-smooth voice said from beside me.
I held Theo protectively, not sure I wanted to pass this small human being off to someone who looked so scary. Porter held his big hands open, and I reluctantly handed Theo to him. I watched as he expertly lifted Theo high above his head. Theo cooed with delight and kicked his legs.
Our eyes met again. It kind of pissed me off that he was winning the baby race by a mile. Who knew he would be the baby whisperer in the group?
“No one likes a showoff,” I said under my breath.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing.”
But his lips turned up a bit, telling me he had heard exactly what I had said.
Chapter 3
One month later…
“Good evening, Miss Stirling,” the maitre d' said as I stepped into the large, opulent dining room. “Your parents are already seated at their usual table.”
I had been summoned back to Bayswater. Summoned, like I was a dog my parents could whistle for when they needed me. Except they hadn’t even given me the courtesy of calling me themselves. My dad’s butler had telephoned me and informed me that I was expected for dinner tonight.
“Thanks, Donald.”
“Would you like your usual drink to start?”
“Yes, please.” I spotted my mom across the room. “Make it a double.” That would undoubtedly piss her off.
I walked across the room. The Bayswater Country Club was the epitome of luxury with its high, painted ceilings and antique chandeliers, red velvet chairs, and floor-length, white tablecloths.
I recognized every single person seated in the restaurant. It was the same members every week, dining at the same tables, eating the same food. Like every other time I came here, I felt like I was slowly being suffocated by the ostentatious wealth and judgmental stares coming from every direction.
“You’re fifteen minutes late,” Mom reprimanded me as I approached the table.
“Sorry.” I leaned down to air kiss her on both cheeks. “Traffic was bad. Where’s Dad?”
“He’s talking on the phone on the terrace.”
When was my father not talking on the phone?
“How are you?”
She shrugged her thin shoulder. “Beth, really, that dress is so last season.”
She should know. She’d bought it for me. Mom hates my taste in clothing and regularly has high-end clothes and shoes delivered to my apartment. I struggle to keep a roof over my head, and my car is being held together by duct tape and prayers, yet Mom fills my apartment with designer shoes and bags so expensive, they could pay my rent for months. The polarity between my old life and my new life staggered me. I was reminded of this every time I stuffed my size-four ass into these stupid Mulberry silk dresses.
I schooled my face to remain passive. I thought my sundress was cute. “How are you, Mom?”
She gave a long-winded sigh. “I’ve had a very challenging few months.”
“Oh. What’s going on?”
“You know I’m on the board for NYTA, and Kelly Brockers was the chair, but her husband recently got transferred to London. It’s been complete chaos. The in-house fighting on the board has kept me awake for weeks. I can’t handle it.”
I blinked. The board of the New York Tennis Association was stressing Mom out. This world sometimes felt like an SNL parody.
“I’m sure you’re doing great.”
She sniffed. “It’s been exceedingly stressful.”
Mom was stressed. Something was bothering her. Something real. Something was keeping her awake at night, but God forbid she ever talked about it.
Mom was the queen of hiding the truth of her life away from the world but used something frivolous as a surrogate reason to vent. How many times had I wished that we could be closer? In the end, I couldn’t handle her cover story no more than she could handle my truth.
The waiter came forward with my gin and tonic, placing it in front of me with a small bow. The only redeeming thing about dinner at Bayswater was the expensive booze.
The pointed look mom sent my way as I drank at least a finger’s worth didn’t escape my attention. I ignored her, though. It was easier that way.
Unused to being ignored, she pursed her lips and fussed with the expensive linen cloth on her lap. “Where are you working now?”
Dad approached the table, saving me from answering. I studied him behind the rim of my glass. His hair was beginning to grey at the edges of his forehead, but he pulled it off in a George Clooney type of way. Still, he wore his mid-fifties well and carried himself with presence.
He sat down across from me. “You’re late.”
I took another sin of the gin. “Nice to see you, too, Dad.”
He didn’t bother responding as the waiter immediately approached the table. We ordered our food, then sat in silence for a moment.
“Your father has a family announcement.” Mom turned to my dad, benignity written all over her carefully made-up face.
I could never quite tell what she was thinking.
“I’m running for mayor.” Dad met my eyes. “We’re announcing it at the gala next week. Saturday.”
Mayor of New York? Geez. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. My father was already an extremely wealthy businessman, but he also craved power and control. Always had.
The neutral expression never left my face. “What brought you to that decision?”
“New York is the greatest city in the world. It needs stronger leadership.”
Dad’s idea of leadership was closer to dictatorship.
“I’m very excited for you,” I lied.
Was it too late for me to leave this city? Maybe I could move out west. Perhaps Hawaii.
“I’d like your support during my candidacy.”
“You know I’ll always support you,” I relented. “Just like you’ve always supported my choices.”
Mom cleared her throat. “We want you to move home. We’ll clear out the guest house for you. You can live there. Rent free.”
Her offer wasn’t even tempting. I’d left home when I'd turned 18 for a reason. Hell would freeze over before I returned to that gilded cage.
“Mom, as much as I love living with you and dad,” I lied, “I’m too old to move back home. I have my own life that I’m living.”
“Beth, why be difficult about this? You have no idea how important optics are during a political campaign. Plus, it’ll make things so much easier for you to be at home for all the campaigning events we need to attend.”
I ignored her and focused on the food a server dropped off. One mouthful at a time, I chewed and swallowed, not tasting a single bite. I felt a sense of panic that my parents had even suggested I move back home. My independence meant everything to me. Why did my parents want to keep dragging me back under their wing?