Facial Recognition

by Jennifer Peel

  Morgan didn’t seem to care for the way Brooks kept staring at me. She yanked his arm to pull him closer, but if I wasn’t mistaken, he didn’t budge. Was there trouble in paradise, or should I say hell?

  Morgan spat out a fake laugh. “Isn’t this fortuitous?”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” I kept it real.

  “You were always such a joker.” Morgan gave me a razor-like smile that said she would love to cut my throat.

  “We’re sorry to interrupt,” Brooks spoke up. I could tell he, too, felt awkward about the situation.

  “Brooks, I think it would be nice if we all dined together,” Morgan suggested out of the blue. Was she high? “Weren’t you just saying how you needed to talk to Gracie? Now here’s your chance.” It was like she was daring him.

  Her voice was so freaking intimidating it gave me the chills while I contemplated why Brooks wanted to talk to me.

  “Not tonight, Morgan.” Brooks held his ground.

  Morgan wasn’t deterred. She looked to her big brother. “Don’t you think we should all eat together?”

  Julian looked between Morgan and me, his shoulders slumping and a heavy breath escaping him. My eyes begged him to refuse, but he paid them no heed. “Yes,” he said half-heartedly.

  Uh. Didn’t I get a say in this? Before I knew it, Julian was moving next to me on my side of the table, and Morgan slid into his seat with a smile, like she was stealing home plate. Brooks stood, unsure what to do.

  “Brooks, you’re making a scene,” Morgan admonished him.

  Brooks resigned himself to his fate and took the seat across from Julian.

  Julian squeezed my knee under the table, as if to say he was sorry. Oh, he better be. Honestly, if he hadn’t had such a rough day, I would have pushed his hand off and left.

  Morgan smiled toothily with her capped teeth. “Isn’t this nice?”

  I was going with no. I supposed the men felt the same way, since they didn’t answer either. Thankfully, the waiter showed up with our menus and some goblets of sparkling water, making it so we didn’t have to talk to each other for a few minutes. The tension around the table was palpable. Julian’s wine showed up too, and he wasted no time downing the glass that was poured for him.

  I buried my head in my menu and tried to comprehend the names of the food. I was tempted to get my phone out and type the items into Google Translate. I got distracted, though, when Cruella de Vil started in on Brooks about what he should order.

  “I think you should get the tabbouleh.”

  I wanted to say, Bless you. It sounded like she’d sneezed the name. What I should have said was, Oh my crap! He’s a grown freaking man. He can order for himself. I peeked over my menu to look at Brooks, willing him with my eyes to grow a backbone around this chick.

  “Bulgur has a lot of fiber in it,” Morgan droned on while Brooks stretch his neck from side to side.

  Not sure what bulgur was, but it sounded disgusting. I knocked that off my list of items to order.

  Brooks and I locked eyes for a moment, and Morgan caught us. She narrowed her eyes at me. “Gracie, did you need some help ordering? I know these kinds of places can be intimidating.” If she’d said that any more condescendingly, she would have needed a higher horse to sit on.

  “I’m fine, thank you for your concern.”

  “I usually get the chicken souvlaki. It comes with marinated vegetables and feta tzatziki,” Julian piped up, I think trying to help me out. You know what would have really helped me out was for him to have kicked his sister to the curb earlier. What was it about Morgan that made men do her bidding? Was it the boobs? Hopefully that wasn’t the case with Julian or we would be dealing with way bigger issues than I was comfortable with. It was already awkward enough eating dinner with Brooks—my supposed future husband, according to my inner voice—and Julian, who I was considering opening the door for. That was, until he made me have dinner with his sister.

  “That sounds great.” I closed my menu, not sure what the heck I was going to be eating.

  “There are a lot of calories in that dish,” Morgan commented.

  “Perfect. That’s my kind of food.”

  I saw Brooks’s lip twitch.

  Morgan, on the other hand, didn’t appreciate my comment. She sat up ridiculously straight. “Let’s hope you don’t become a thin-fat person.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know, people who look skinny but are really unhealthy.”

  Who did this woman think she was? “I just call them happy,” I replied with a snide smile.

  Brooks barked out a laugh but hid it as a cough when Morgan whipped her head toward him.

  Julian poured himself another glass of wine while trying to steer the conversation in another direction. “How’s work?” He gave his sister a pointed look.

  His drinking was starting to worry me. He was on his second glass and we hadn’t even ordered yet.

  Morgan’s face lit up like a pyromaniac. “I’ve recently been tasked with reviewing the adequacy of our risk management procedures and methodologies. I minored in risk management.” She directed her last comment toward me.

  “How nice.”

  “You didn’t go to school, right?” she purred, obviously trying to prove a point.

  “Not the traditional kind, no.”

  “To each their own,” she said as an insult.

  “Morgan,” Brooks said as a warning.

  I didn’t need him to defend me. “I find it funny how women like you look down on what my friends and I do for a living, yet you make up most of our clientele. You even brag about what a privilege it is to use our services. I never hear about people getting excited to go to the bank, but they are always happy to visit us. So, maybe I didn’t get a fancy degree, but what I do is important, and I’m proud of it.” I didn’t even try to hide the bite in my words.

  Her mouth fell open.

  That’s what I called a mic drop. If she wanted to go tit for tat, she’d better get ready for a long night.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Oh, what a dreadfully long night it was. It was apparent, as the dinner wore on, that Morgan was hoping to highlight my deficiencies. It was almost like it gave her a sick thrill. I was beginning to think she was a narcissist. After she’d brought up my lack of a degree, she’d moved on to how I still lived at home and in the same town we all grew up in. She’d droned on and on about the dreariness of Pecan Orchard and how she had lived in places like LA and Manhattan. Of course, she did it all backhandedly so she didn’t come off as a total witch. The question was, Was it Julian or Brooks she was trying to convince of my undesirability?

  I did find it interesting, though, to watch the way she and Brooks interacted. There was some definite tension between them. Brooks hardly said a word while he ate his salad, and anytime Morgan touched him, he flinched. Quite often I found him staring at me as if he were trying to figure me out. I was trying to work out some things too, like why he wanted to be with someone as manipulative as Morgan. Where was his brilliant lawyer mind when it came to her?

  I also began to question why I was there with Julian. I had lost count of how many glasses he’d had. I knew he’d had a rough day, and he’d asked me to drive home, which was the responsible thing to do; however, I didn’t want to be with someone who used alcohol to deal with their problems. I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Brooks’s eyes seemed to be searing into Julian, and the way his jaw was clenching was like he was forcing himself to keep his mouth shut.

  Morgan, as always, was concerned with only herself. She, more than anyone, should say something to her brother. Instead she was holding up her phone and looking at herself in it. “Did anyone listen to Simon Sinek’s TED Talk about how great leaders inspire action?” she asked after our dinner plates were cleared, but it looked like she was talking to herself into her phone.

  No one responded right away, so I said, “I didn’t, but I did take the latest Cosmo quiz, and, good news, I totally go
t A-plus kisser.”

  Morgan lowered her phone and gave me a sneer that could melt the butter on every table in the place.

  Brooks chuckled, then stopped once Morgan hit him with her dirty look too.

  Julian swirled the wine in his glass before downing all its contents in one gulp. As soon as he set his glass down, he began to pour himself some more. “I have to say I concur with the quiz. Your lips are sweeter than the wine.”

  I blushed, not wanting him to talk about the kisses we had shared, especially in front of Brooks. I knew it was ridiculous. Brooks was my friend. Or at least he used to be. Yet deep down, I still wanted him to be more. No matter how much fun I’d been having with Julian. I was connected to Brooks in a way I couldn’t be with anyone else. Brooks had helped me through the death of my mother, and my sweetest childhood memories included him.

  “Who knew,” Julian continued, “when Morgan begged me to ask you out how much I would end up enjoying myself?”

  Every head whipped in his direction.

  My heart dropped to my stomach. “What did you say?”

  “He’s drunk,” Morgan stuttered. “Don’t listen to a word he has to say.” She was shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

  Julian waved off his sister. “I may be drunk, but I’m lucid.” He turned toward me. “Morgan is jealous of you and thought Brooks would leave her for you, so she asked me to seduce you.”

  Bile rose to my throat. I had to swallow it back down before I vomited.

  “Shut up, Julian,” Morgan hissed.

  “No, Julian,” Brooks seethed. “I think Grace and I would like to hear what you have to say.”

  Julian gave Morgan a sinister smile as if he would like nothing more than to spill the beans on his sister. Meanwhile, Morgan was trying to take Brooks’s hand, but he pulled away from her.

  “Brooks, it’s not what you think,” Morgan pleaded with him to believe her.

  “It’s definitely what you think,” Julian growled. “She hates Gracie. Always has. She was pissed, back in high school, when you said you would go to prom with her. But it all ended up okay in the end, right, sis? Brooks ditched Gracie for you, and you lost your virginity to him that night, am I right? I find it hilarious that you found girls who did that to be so cliché. You were even careless enough not to use protection. You got lucky there.” He held up his glass as if to toast her.

  I grabbed my stomach and faced Brooks, tears welling in my eyes. I knew I shouldn’t care, as it was so long ago, but it hurt. I pushed my chair back and stood.

  “Grace.” Brooks threw his napkin down and stood. “Please, listen to me.”

  “I don’t want to hear another word from any of you. You all deserve each other,” I spit out with all the vitriol I could muster.

  “Please, don’t go, Gracie.” Julian tugged on my hand. “What we have between us may have started out as a favor to my sister, but honestly, I haven’t felt like this about a woman in a long time. Besides, you haven’t heard the best part yet.”

  I couldn’t care less what he had to say. I grabbed my purse, ready to order an Uber, when Julian spouted off, “Brooks, if I were you, I would go with Gracie. My sister is certifiable. Hell, my entire family is. Morgan about drove her ex-husband to the brink of insanity trying to control his life.”

  “Ex-husband?” Brooks spewed. “You said you were never married.”

  “She also said she moved back here for a promotion.” Julian took another long sip of his wine. “Her little bank gives out vice president titles like the candy they give to their drive-through customers. But she was demoted.”

  “Just shut up,” Morgan pleaded with tears in her eyes.

  “I don’t think so, sis. You wanted me to orchestrate this night with Gracie, so here you go.”

  This was all a setup? I stood there stunned and unbelievably hurt. I had thought Julian really liked me.

  “And you want to know why she’s been tasked with internal audits?” Julian soldiered on. “Her boss has had a few too many complaints about how she interacts with their biggest clients. She can’t help but shove her ideas down everyone’s throats. She just can’t stomach the thought that she’s less than perfect.” He glared at Morgan.

  “Brooks,” Morgan spluttered, “I think it would be best if we went somewhere and discussed these over exaggerations.”

  Brooks looked down at her as if she were the scum of the earth. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I think you should take your brother home, and I’ll make sure Grace gets home safely.”

  Oh no he wouldn’t. “No thanks.” I threw the valet ticket at Julian before spinning around and marching toward the door as several patrons gave me looks of pity. I truly felt pitiful. No doubt we had all made a terrible scene. Not that I cared. I would never be coming back to Manresa’s. I would keep my all-American food and real friends, thank you very much. I grabbed my phone and, through blurry eyes, clicked on my Uber app.

  I flung myself through the door and into the sultry night air, walking as fast as I could away from the restaurant. The tears finally began to fall and covered my cheeks. I was an idiot to believe that maybe I’d had Julian pegged all wrong. Worse, I had spent too many years foolishly loving someone who never had any intention of loving me back. Brooks had lied to me, humiliated me, and hurt me at a tender age. However, I’d still opened the door to him when he’d come back into my life, despite the fact that he hadn’t even recognized me. And here I had felt sorry for him because of the truth he had discovered on prom night. Yet he had only used it as an excuse to do what he had really wanted that night—to sleep with Morgan. He never gave me a thought. Ever.

  “Grace.” Brooks gently grabbed my arm.

  I yanked myself away from him. “Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me. Just don’t,” I cried.

  “Please, let me take you home.”

  I took a good long look at him, truly recognizing him for who he was—a selfish, self-centered jerk. “I never want to see you again.”

  “Grace, I was eighteen years old. You’re going to hold that against me? You have no idea what I went through that night.”

  “You’re right, because you never gave me the chance. And that’s the difference between you and me. I gave you every chance to see I was the girl who truly loved you and wanted you to be happy. But you were too blind to recognize it because all you ever see is yourself. Did you ever once stop to think about how much you hurt me? Do you ever stop to think about anyone other than yourself?”

  His mouth opened as if he were going to speak, but all that came out were a few splutters.

  “Save your breath. There’s nothing you can say to me that’s worth hearing. But let me thank you for sparing me from wasting any more time on you. Goodbye, Brooks.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Oh, Momma. I’m done with men.” I dropped to my knees on the grave of my mother, in my evening gown and all.

  The Uber driver thought it was creepy to drop me off at the cemetery, but I think he was more than relieved to have me out of his car after all the weeping and wailing I had done on the forty-five-minute drive back to Pecan Orchard. The cemetery was only a few blocks from our house and a place I frequented. Especially when I was upset. Momma was a good listener.

  I outlined her name on the heart-shaped headstone that was embraced by a granite angel. Fiona Cartwright. Beloved Wife to Stephen and Mother to Grace. General Hospital’s Biggest Fan. I giggled every time I read that last line. I swore I sometimes heard Momma laughing along with me. Just like I could feel her heart break for me now.

  “What did I do to be treated so cruelly?” I landed on my butt, kicked off my sparkly heels, and began to pick the cool grass around me. The sun was about to go down, and the last rays tickled the headstones all around me, making them glitter. Not like vampires per se, but in a beautifully muted way.

  My stupid phone kept going off with texts and calls from Julian. I finally reached into my bag and turned it off. There was nothing he cou
ld say to me to excuse what he had done. He had been like the butcher tonight, leading me, the lamb, to the slaughter. Okay, so I was a cheeky lamb and I’d held my own pretty well, but still.

  Now all his cryptic comments made sense. He’d been playing me on behalf of his sister. That family needed some serious therapy. Like the shock kind. I was probably going to need some counseling after my brush with the Bronsons. And Brooks definitely needed to set up a therapy session, stat. How could he be so taken in by Morgan, now and back in high school? I was ill thinking about them together the night he’d stood me up. I knew it was twenty years ago, but he was supposed to have been my friend, and he had thought only of his own desires with no thought for me and my feelings. Perhaps I’d failed back then to recognize how selfish he was. Maybe I’d been blinded by love. The shades, though, had come off, and I would no longer be fooled by him. Or any man.

  “Well, Momma, at least Daddy will be happy. Though I’m not sure you are ever getting a grandson named Noah.” I brought my knees up to my chest and cried into my dress, not caring that I was leaving mascara stains on it. After several minutes of my personal pity party, I heard the snap of twigs and crunch of gravel over my sniffling and sobbing. I turned my head to see Brooks walking my way, undoing his tie as he went. How did he find me?

  “Go away.” I turned from him. I meant it—I never wanted to see him again.

  He didn’t listen and came within a few feet of me. His tall body towered over me. “Grace.”

  “Leave me alone. You had no right to follow me.” Like a child, I turned my body away from him.

  “I didn’t follow you. I had a feeling you would be here. You always came here when you were upset.”

  I was surprised he remembered that. Regardless, he wasn’t welcome. I went back to hugging my knees, intent on ignoring him.

  He had other plans. He knelt in front of me, taking in my pathetic state. I probably had puffy, red raccoon eyes by this point with streaks of mascara down my cheeks. He lowered his head and let out a heavy breath. “Grace, please let me explain,” he begged with such conviction.