“Well, what about dinner? We have plenty of steak.” What I need is for him to stop digging us all in a hole. He turns back to my father. “Would you guys like to stay and eat with us?”
Okay. Actually, I’m just gonna leave. Save myself.
Do I tell Will now that I don’t think Bart Hamilton has ever had a meal that’s come off a backyard grill in his life?
“If you think I’m going to eat—” Daddy starts.
“The steaks! I left them on the grill, dammit!” Will turns, taking off through the house. I stare at his back, hoping for a meteor to fall from the sky and blow up Earth. It would save me from having to turn to my parents and explain.
“Dinner sounds lovely!” my mother chimes in, staring at the door Will just disappeared through. “But dear heavens, Lilith, we’ll eat something a little bit more suitable.”
Hmmm. What places does one pick when knowing they are taking their boyfriend/neighbor to his last meal?
Saturdays are for Stepford Wives
“I can’t believe I burned the steak,” I grumble as we enter the restaurant that’s way above my paygrade. I never burned steak until I started seeing Lilith.
She’s quiet and has been since they showed up. We’re to have dinner with her parents and my normally chatty and flamboyant girlfriend is silent. I don’t like it. I don’t like them and I don’t like the way she’s seemed to shut down.
Not only has she shut down, but she’s in full-on Stepford wife mode. Just like her mother. My sultry pinup now wears pastels and soft curls. The red lipstick has been traded for pale, glossy pink. Killer stilettoes have been replaced with nude pumps.
Who is this girl?
“Lilith,” I say as we enter the fancy steakhouse.
She flashes me a fake smile, her teeth whiter and brighter than usual, and then points to where her parents are seated. Bart and Tonya Hamilton. While Lilith got ready earlier, I did a quick search on these people. Apparently, my secretive girlfriend is the daughter of the owner of Hamilton Investments, a Fortune 500 company. Multi-millionaire. An expensive brownstone in New York City and another home in The Hamptons.
And now their precious daughter is dating Will Grant. Bank auditor from the suburbs. Reformed bad boy. I have a criminal record, for fuck’s sake.
“Darling,” her mother says with a fake smile. They both stand to greet us.
I offer my hand to her father and this time he actually shakes it.
“Mr. Grant,” he says.
“Mr. Hamilton,” I reply back.
Lilith lets her mother kiss both her cheeks and I refrain from letting out an annoyed huff. I’m gentleman enough that I pull out my girlfriend’s seat and let her sit before I take my own beside her.
“So lovely you two could join us,” Tonya chirps, a fake smile on her lips. “Our daughter has told us so much about you.”
Bart’s nostrils flare. “Don’t lie. She’s done nothing of the sort. Last we heard, she was going to start seeing Lance.” He waves his hand at me. “Not this.”
I glower at him. His blatant disgust for me is getting old. “Funny,” I grind out. “Lilith hasn’t mentioned you either.”
Bart’s face turns beet red as Tonya fiddles with her napkin. Lilith shoots me a panicked look. A look. Yet, she says nothing. My girl always has something to say.
“So, a bank auditor?” Bart asks, his salt and pepper eyebrows furled together. “Is this a stepping stone toward what you really want to be when you grow up?” His words drip with condescension.
I straighten my back. “I am doing what I want to do and I’m really good at it. The very best, in fact. My attention to detail is impeccable.” I cross my arms over my chest and clench my jaw. “Before coming here, I noticed that you own Hamilton Investments. Charles Britton is the CFO and has been for the past five years. How is that working out for you? Rumor has it he was asked to leave Ellis Island Equities for misappropriation of funds. They couldn’t pin anything on him.” I narrow my eyes at Bart. “I bet I could find out the truth.”
Tonya gapes at me and Lilith is tense beside me.
Bart looks like he wants to murder me what with the way he grips his steak knife and the purple color of his face. We haven’t even ordered yet, so I know the knife is for me and not the shitty meat he’ll no doubt be eating within the hour.
“Charles is more than competent, young man. Don’t you dare insinuate my company that I’ve built from the ground up—” he starts, but is interrupted by the waiter.
“Good evening, folks. What can I get you all?” the waiter asks.
Tonya and Bart slip back into fancy fuckers mode.
“I’ll have the market fish of the day,” Bart says. “Steamed asparagus as a side.”
“I’ll have a salad with no dressing,” Tonya chirps. “Watching my figure.” She bats her lashes at the young man taking our order.
Lilith makes a choking sound. “Wine. I’ll have wine.”
“Bring a bottle. And steak,” I reply, sliding my palm to her thigh to calm her. “We’ll both have filets cooked medium rare with loaded baked potatoes.”
“Heavens to Betsy!” Tonya exclaims. “All that butter and cheese and sour cream! Lilith, darling, that’ll go straight to your hips. And red meat is so hard to digest.”
“Uhhh, just dry,” Lilith corrects to the waiter.
I give the waiter a death glare and shake my head at him in warning. His eyes widen and he nods. “Right, so, um, I’ll get this put right in and bring out the wine.”
“The finest bottle,” Bart says, puffing out his chest. “No matter the cost.”
The waiter slinks off, leaving me with this idiot and his fembots. Once the man is out of earshot, Bart hisses at me. “Who do you think you are ordering for my daughter? And practically uncooked meat? We’re not at Western Sizzler, son. If you’re going to order red meat, then you order it well-done like a civilized human.”
“Daddy,” Lilith whines.
“It’s okay,” I assure her. I deal with assholes like him all the time at the bank. “I know what Lilith likes.”
He scoffs. “Lilith doesn’t even know what she likes. She is always experimenting with anything and everything.” His gaze falls to her. “It’s high time you stop playing around with your life and get serious.”
I grit my teeth to keep from going off on him. It bothers me how she’s acting around them. So unlike the bubbly vibrant woman I love.
Love?
I rub at the back of my neck and blink away those intriguing thoughts. I need to get through this dinner with her monster parents. Then, I’ll reevaluate the way I feel about her. Now’s not the time.
“Does Hamilton Investments have internal auditors?” I ask as the waiter returns and pours our wine.
Bart lifts his chin in a superior way. “Of course. I’m not a fool.”
“Do you have external audits done as well? Perhaps on a semi-annual basis? A company of your size and financial outreach would benefit from such audits.” I gulp down my wine until I’ve drained my glass. Then, I straighten my bowtie and lean back in my seat with my brow arched in question.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” he snarls, “but no. I don’t trust outsiders. Our firm practices are what have kept my investment company strides ahead of the rest all these years.”
“Legal business practices?” I challenge.
“William Grant,” Lilith bites out, squeezing my hand on her thigh before shooting me a fiery glare. At least that’s a look I know and love from her.
“Of course it’s legal. Don’t insult me,” Bart snaps.
“Who oversees the internal auditors?” I question.
“It’s none of your business.” He glowers at me.
“I certainly hope it’s not Charles Britton.” I smirk.
The table grows silent, giving me my answer.
“Darling,” Tonya interrupts the awkwardness. “You should come play tennis with Daddy and me soon. Lance would love to play doubles
with you. Unless William knows how to play.”
I snort. “I don’t play tennis. Thanks for the offer.”
But at least now I know how my girlfriend has her banging body.
“Lilith,” Bart grumbles. “I would like for you to stop by the office this week to go over some things. Alone.”
She nods, in full-on zombie mode. “Of course.”
I bite my tongue as to not make this dinner any worse. The more I challenge her father, the more she shuts down. I’m just so fucking pissed, though. I want to go off on this asshole.
Tonya carries on the conversation, babbling on about a summer soiree she’s planning at their estate. I don’t miss the fact she doesn’t extend an invitation. Simply tells Lilith the parts she’ll play. Gracious hostess. Smiling debutante. Puppet extraordinaire.
My blood boils as I seethe with anger.
After this dinner, I’m going to drill her about every single part of her past. This makes no goddamn sense. Where the hell is my little hurricane? Right now, she’s barely a breeze.
The waiter brings our food. Bart saws into his prissy fish as if he’s eager to actually eat the fucking thing that looks as though it might possibly still be alive. Hypocrite. Tonya picks at her salad and only pretends to eat. And Lilith? Lilith scrapes all the good shit off her potato and eats tiny bites.
The steak sucks too.
Fatty and dry and cooked more medium well than medium rare. My steaks are a million times better. I want to blast that to everyone sitting at the table, but I feel as though maybe I’ve done enough damage. I’ll bite my tongue and choke down this shit.
Once everyone has quietly and politely eaten and we’ve passed on dessert, Tonya excuses herself to the restroom and all but drags Lilith along with her.
I’m left with her father.
All politeness flies out the window.
“Do you even see how you people treat her?” I demand, my voice low and deadly.
“I beg your pardon,” he bites out. “She’s behaving rather oddly because you, sir, are quite odd. Lilith deserves someone respectful and successful.” He gestures at me as if I’m scum beneath his shoes. “Not this. You’re wearing a bowtie, for Christ’s sake, at the fanciest restaurant in town. Look around, Mr. Grant. You don’t fit in here. Even with your little auditor job and mediocre suit. Face it, my daughter is too good for you.”
I fist my napkin and then toss it on my plate. “Your daughter acts like a goddamn robot around you. Do you not even see that? Have you seen her actually smile lately?” I rise from my seat, glowering at him.
His face blanches and he looks around in embarrassment. “You’re calling attention to us. Sit down.”
Ignoring him, I pin him with a harsh glare. “She doesn’t smile for you. Not truly. With me she laughs and is playful and enjoys the hell out of life. With me, she’s happy.”
“You’re brainwashing her,” he growls. “She needed a break. I gave it to her. Now, she needs stability. She needs to focus and start working on her future. Lance is a great stride in that direction. Then you show up and throw in a wrench.”
“She’s not going anywhere near Lance,” I say, low and menacingly.
“You are not in control of my daughter,” he bites back as he rises to his feet.
“She. Will. Not. See. Him.” Each word is clipped. “She’s my girlfriend and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
Tonya and Lilith approach the table. I pull out a wad of bills and toss them on the table.
“We’re leaving,” I tell her as I grasp her hand.
Relief flashes briefly in her eyes. “Okay.”
“Lilith,” Bart starts, but I shut him down with a wave of my hand.
“Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton.”
The moment the car doors close us in, Lilith loses her mind.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she screeches, her finger pointing my way.
I blink at her in confusion. “Me? What the hell is wrong with you? You turned into a fucking robot at dinner.”
“You don’t understand!”
I grab her wrist and pull her closer to me. “Then talk to me because I don’t know what to think right now. Everything about dinner was bizarre as fuck. Your dad is an asshole.”
“Just take me home,” she snips, yanking her arm away from me.
Thunder crackles from the distance and then the sky lights up, warning of an impending storm.
Irritated, I drive home. I don’t get it. I don’t understand how she just completely shut down at dinner. When I pull into her driveway, neither of us makes any move to exit the car despite the fact it’s started to rain heavily.
“Lilith—”
“No,” she interrupts, jerking her head in my direction. “The way you spoke to my father was disrespectful.”
“Oh, come on,” I bite out. “He was disrespectful and condescending to me as well.”
“That’s not the point! Whatever. I’m done talking about this.”
At this, I laugh, the sound dark and annoyed. “Of course you are. You never want to talk about anything. Nothing serious. You change the fucking subject. You know why, babe? Because you hate them.”
She reaches up to slap me, but I grip her arm and haul her to me until our faces are just inches apart. “I don’t hate them,” she defends, her glossy pink bottom lip wobbling.
“I do,” I retort. “And I wouldn’t judge if you did. They’re awful to you.”
“You were awful to me at one time,” she hisses out.
“Why didn’t you tell me about them? You let me walk right into the hornet’s nest.”
Her nostrils flare. “For the exact reason of what happened tonight! Why couldn’t you just play it cool and go along with it. Daddy just likes to hear himself talk. Then, we move on. Simple. Been doing it for years.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Listen to yourself, Lilith. I don’t know what kind of man you had me pegged for, but I’m certainly not the type of guy to sit around and be talked down to. Furthermore, I refuse to let my girlfriend’s parents railroad her.” I run my thumb along her wrist. “Why do you let them do that to you?”
Tears well in her wide brown eyes and she quickly blinks them away. “Because that’s the way they are. And now…now you’ve ruined everything.”
“He has no control over you,” I snap.
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
I study her face as her fiery personality struggles to break through the plastic bullshit shell she’s been in all evening.
“I just hate the way you acted around them,” I admit softly. “Not the Lilith I know.”
She tugs her arm free. “You don’t know the entire Lilith then.”
“So fucking let me,” I snap. “Let me in and show me how you can be that person and this one in the same body. Talk to me.”
I watch her defensive walls go up.
“Because you’re so forthcoming with your past? I’ll get right on that,” she says snidely. “Why is it that you get touchy about your grandma’s house?”
Ice forms over my heart. “We’re talking about you right now. We can discuss this later.”
A hollow laugh bubbles up her throat. “Exactly. What are we even doing, Will?”
“What do you mean?” I demand. We’re doing everything. I can’t hardly fucking live without hearing her laugh or seeing her each day. We’re doing everything, goddammit. She knows this.
“Well, since you don’t have an answer,” she bites out. “We’re fucking. That’s it. You’re a great lay, but we’re both obviously guarded people. I can’t—I can’t do this with you. See you around.” With that, she slings the door open and steps out into the pouring rain.
Fuck that.
I climb out of the car and charge after her. My arm hooks around her waist before she can reach her porch steps. The rain soaks through her prissy dress and clings to her gorgeous curves.
“Lilith,” I plead as I pull her against
my chest. “Please…”
Her tone is cold as she peels herself from my grip. “Good night, Will.”
With the punishing rain pounding down on me, I watch my woman walk into her house. Alone. Without me.
“We’re everything, baby,” I call out.
The rain drowns my voice and takes my heart with it.
Sundays are for Hangovers
I throw myself against the closed door, soaked to the bone and shivering, just as I hear his final words stab me right in the heart. We’re everything, baby. If he knew everything about me, I’m sure we wouldn’t be anything. The person he saw tonight and hated was only a smidge of the person I’m forced to be around my parents, when I’m in the clutches of the Hamilton legacy.
When I left home, my mission was to find the person I was meant to be. There was always that ache inside me that told me I wasn’t on the right path. The piano lessons, the tennis, the tea parties, and fancy clothes, it just wasn’t who I was inside. I was living this life on autopilot. My happiness was suffering and as much as I tried to explain it to my parents, they didn’t listen. It was always the same response. The one from my father always ringing like a bell tower in my head.
“You’re being childish, Lilith. You’re in line to have a wonderful life. You’ll want for nothing. Show some appreciation that you were born into this privilege, instead of one of many who have less.”
“Daddy, it’s not about the money or wealth. It never has been. I don’t need special tutors or fancy things. I need to be happy.”
“Nonsense. You’re just fine. Everything that’s planned for you will make you just as happy.”
“Forcing me to be a person I don’t want to be? Marrying someone I don’t nor will ever love? That’s not happiness, Daddy. That’s an unwanted life. I won’t do it. I can’t.”
“Maybe I should tell your tutor to teach you a lesson on how to be more grateful for what you have. You will see it one day. And you will understand we know what’s best for you.”
“I won’t do it, Daddy. I won’t.”
“You will because if not, you will be far unhappier with the consequences.”
Sundays are for Hangovers Page 12