I can’t help it.
“I’ll go get Palmer then,” I say. He pulls me into a brief hug, and just before I break away, I rise up on my tiptoes and drop a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, pumpkin.” He smiles, looking pleased. He just got his way.
But then again, so did I.
Three
Tony
We’re at some fancy country club that is definitely not my scene, but Dad and his wife Helena seem to think this is the place to be on a Saturday night. Somehow they got my sizes right and someone went shopping for me before I arrived. Meaning, I’m entering the clubhouse with them wearing brand new black pants, a white button-down shirt and a black jacket, with a black tie currently strangling my neck.
“Gucci,” Helena said when I walked out into the living room to meet them before we left the house. Her assessing gaze lingered, making me vaguely uncomfortable. “I picked it out myself.”
I have the distinct feeling my new stepmom was checking me out.
I wait as my father talks to someone he knows, lots of fake laughter and hearty back slaps abound between them. Helena stands next to my father clad in a pale pink, sequined gown that seemed a bit over the top to me, but now looks perfectly in place once we got here. She’s beautiful, I’ll give her that.
But definitely not my type.
I realize quickly that this is a social event to show off how much money you have. It’s like one giant flex. Women are dripping in diamonds and various other jewels, their perfectly made-up faces making me wonder what they look like when all the makeup’s scrubbed off. The air is clogged with expensive cologne and perfume, practically suffocating me. Everyone is dressed perfectly, and oddly enough—everyone also looks the same.
It’s kind of boring.
As we make our way through the room, I let my father introduce me to one guy after the other, and I forget their names as soon as Dad says them, only because there’s so many of them that I can’t keep up. I smile and nod, shake their hands and say repeatedly, “Nice to meet you, sir,” with all the earnestness I can muster.
Ever the dutiful son to my neglectful dad.
Many of them ask if I’m going to follow in my father’s footsteps and eventually work for him. He tells every one of them I’m a business major, his voice filled with pride, which seems to appease them. He never mentions where I go to school.
I suppose that’s his one dirty secret in regards to me. I’m attending a public state university that has no prestige attached to it—at least in his eyes. Even though I play for a D1 football team, he doesn’t mention that either. I suppose it opens him up to too many questions, ones he doesn’t want to answer.
Like the fact that he doesn’t come to watch the games.
So I remain quiet and nod and smile, bored out of my skull. The corners of my mouth actually ache from smiling too much, and my stomach is starting to growl. When I can finally escape, I make an attempt to order a beer from the bar and the bartender hands it over without hesitation.
I leave him a ten-dollar tip.
It’s like some sort of meet and greet on steroids before we sit down to dinner and I don’t know a soul in this place, so I find a dark corner to stand in and lean against the wall, checking my phone while I down the beer, finishing it off way too soon.
I’m going to need a lot of those to get through tonight.
“Here you go.”
I glance up to find Helena standing in front of me, a fresh beer clutched in her hand and a smile on her face. She had to be spying on me to know what I was drinking, which is creepy, but I ignore the unease I feel and swipe the beer from her hand, careful not to graze her fingers with mine. “Thank you.”
Her smile grows, and she shifts closer, her overpowering scent surrounding me. I cannot deny that when I first met Helena, I thought she was pretty. She’s also only in her very early thirties, which probably makes her closer to my age than she is to my dad.
“Having fun?” She raises her brows, bringing her chilled glass of wine to her lips, carefully sipping it so she doesn’t smear her lipstick.
I shrug, glancing around, uneasy. I don’t want to make small talk with Helena. I barely know her. “Not really.”
Her lips curve into a mock frown. “Aw. Why not?”
“I don’t know anyone.”
Her face brightens. “You know me.”
“I guess. Shouldn’t you be with your friends or whatever?” I’m not interested in a conversation with this woman. She’s making me uncomfortable.
And I don’t need any trouble.
“Every single one of the women in this room is a calculating bitch, including me.” She takes another step closer, the skirt of her dress brushing against my legs. I’m trapped, the wall directly behind me. I can’t move, and I’m pretty sure she knows it. “Besides, I’d rather try and get to know you better. I still can’t believe we’ve never met until today.”
“This is what happens when your husband abandons his oldest child,” I tell her, taking another fortifying gulp of beer.
She scowls. “He didn’t abandon you. Your mother kept you from him.”
“Keep believing that.” My tone is cryptic. We watch each other, yet she doesn’t say a word. Neither do I.
Seems like Helena uses silence as a weapon, just like me.
After a couple sips of wine, her scowl slowly eases away. “You look exactly like your father, you know that?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
She moves so her upper arm rubs against mine, the light glinting off the many sequins on the front of her dress nearly blinding me. She’s like a walking pink disco ball. “You don’t say much, do you?”
I slowly shake my head. Most of the time I keep quiet so I don’t say anything stupid that could come back to haunt me. With this woman, I’m guessing she has a mind like a trap and would use my own words against me someday, if they worked in her favor.
Fuck that. I’d rather keep quiet and pretend she doesn’t exist.
Her contemplative gaze locks with mine, a smile teasing at the corners of her lips. “I like you. Maybe someday we could—”
“Helena! There you are!” A platinum blonde woman rushes toward us in a cloud of sky blue ruffles, taking hold of Helena’s arm before she turns her attention toward me. Her perfectly arched brows shoot up practically to her hairline. “Well, well, well, what do we have here? Already trading Anthony in for a younger model?”
I tense up, hating how this woman is regarding me like I’m a piece of meat.
Helena laughs, sounding uncomfortable. “Of course not, Lauri. This is my stepson, Tony.”
“Your stepson? Oh my goodness.” Lauri rests her hand against her chest, batting her eyelashes at me. “I’m so sorry. I totally put my foot in my mouth just now.”
“It’s cool. Nice to meet you.” I raise my beer bottle in her direction, like I’m toasting her, just before I take a swig.
“We probably shouldn’t be seen with each other,” Helena says to Lauri, which makes me frown. What the hell is she talking about?
“You’re right. So silly. Their rivalry is completely over the top.” The women air kiss before Lauri returns her attention to me, wagging her fingers at me. “Nice meeting you, Tony. Call me next week and let’s do lunch, love!” she says to Helena before she disappears as fast as she came.