Page 53 of Never His Girl
Mom clears her throat, which means we’re not being all that discreet. So, the three of us put our phones away, and we mostly behave through the rest of dinner.
Mostly.
Two servers come out to clear the table and we all sit in awkward silence. Peering up at my father, the guy looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Which makes sense. Family means shit to him and I’m sure he’s got some chick waiting in the wings to do his bidding tonight. Hence the reason he keeps checking his watch,andinsisted that we eat and run by no later than eight.
“Gina, wasn’t your niece supposed to join us tonight? Was she unable to make it?”
Gina—or Mrs. Harrison to the rest of us—perks up when Mom asks. The two go way back, hailing from neighboring parishes down in Louisiana.
“You’re right! She was, but it’s the strangest thing. Our lines got crossed somewhere and I missed that I was supposed to submit some sort of form to request that she come spend the holiday with us,” Mrs. Harrison explains. “Long story short, with her school running such a tight ship, they wouldn’t allow us to take her on such short notice. They keep those girls under lock and key.”
Mom sighs a little. “That’s a bit… extreme, isn’t it?”
Mrs. Harrison shrugs, not looking the least bit disappointed that this niece of hers wasn’t able to make it for dinner.
“Possibly, but Brighton Pierce isthebest boarding school in the country. So, I suppose you take the good with the bad, so to speak,” she says dismissively. “At any rate, now that I know the proper procedure, I’ll be submitting the necessary paperwork first thing Monday morning to see to it that Kendall’s able to visit this spring or summer.”
“Spring or summer? Don’t you mean Christmas?” Mom asks.
“Oh, heaven’s no! Martin and I have plans to spend Christmas in Europe. I’m sure she’ll be fine hanging out with friends for one more holiday.”
Mrs. Harrison flashes a lighthearted smile that Mom doesn’t return. Having spent a short time at boarding school herself, she’s not a fan of them. Lucky for her, my grandfather has a soft spot for his girls and brought them home as soon as that year ended.
The moment’s broken up when a round of dessert is brought out and set before us. My first thought is that they intended to feed a small army with all this shit, and not just the five of us. Mom’s eyes get big at the new spread, giving an awkward chuckle.
“Wow, Gina! You didn’t have to go through all this trouble just for us. After that dinner, I’m not even sure I have room for anything else.”
“Not if you want to keep that waistline,” Dad grumbles.
Mrs. Harrison smiles big, standing from her seat to cut into one of two pumpkin pies now resting on the table.
“Honey, please,” she says with a southern twang before laughing. “I didn’t cook a thing today, so it was honestly no trouble at all. Besides, you’ve got growing boys on your hands,” she adds, flashing a look toward Sterling next. “You want a piece. Don’t you, sweetheart?”
No way she’s still talking about pie.
“Um… I’ll take some,” Dane answers, breaking up the awkward tension when Sterling doesn’t respond.
The two of us lift our plates, accepting a slice. Then, Sterling does the same. My phone’s buzzing in my pocket before I even get the chance to grab my fork, though.
First thought when the text comes through is that Sterling’s venting again. However, I’m suddenly queasy when I see who it’s actually from.
Parker:‘I need to see you. Be at my house in an hour. Come alone.’
I tip the screen toward Sterling to show him the message. His response is the confused look on his face I interpret to mean‘What the fuck does she want now?’
I shrug and try to pretend I’m not worried, but it’s never far from my mind that I didn’t exactly stick to the plan. Didn’t exactly keep my word. The deal between me and Parker was for me to keep my mouth shut and she’d keep what she knows to herself. Only, I got desperate, gave in, telling Southside more than I should have. Which, ironically enough, came nowhere near telling her enough.
“You going?” Sterling asks, being discreet about it.
Anger has my face blazing hot now, and I give the only answer I can.
“Don’t have much of a fucking choice.”
* * *
@QweenPandora:Happy Turkey Day, lovelies ;)
It’s freezing outside, and while most of you are knee-deep in your third helping of green bean casserole, I received a rather interesting series of photos.