Page 71 of Bad Reputation

Jameson looks down at the ground. “Yeah. I mean, it sucks that my best friend acted like that, but… I’m doing okay.”

“I’m sorry that Asher was an ass. You don’t deserve that, at all.” I lace my fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze.

Jameson shrugs. “Honestly, it went better than I expected. I thought he was going to take a swing at me and say horrible stuff. Instead, he just said horrible stuff.”

I give him a faint smile. “I know. Still… I’m sorry, anyway.”

He leans down for a kiss, slow and hot, making my toes curl up. “I still get you. Asher will come around eventually, or maybe not. But either way, I still get the girl. I’m the winner here, I think.”

I beam at him, my heart swelling. “I really love you.”

“And I love you. I keep telling you, I’m in this for the long run.”

And for the first time, standing in Cure, I let myself really, actually believe him.

27

Jameson

Istraighten my tie again as we walk into Lyre, the fancy restaurant that Emma’s parents chose to meet her at. As Emma gives her name at the hostess stand and the hostess ushers us onward through the restaurant, I can’t help my racing heart.

I put my hand onto Emma’s lower back as we walk, unnerved. She’s wearing a lemon yellow dress, and I’m wearing a full suit. I’m fucking sweating, and not just because it’s hot outside. I won’t show it outside, but in my head, I’m all but shaking with my fear.

I know how this will probably go. In all likelihood, her parents will see us together, see us touching, and get angry. They’ll know who I am; after all, they kicked me and my brothers out of squatting on their property no less then four separate times.

They’ll know that I come from nothing. They’ll know that I’m not good enough for Emma, and that my childhood poverty is only one of the reasons that makes me unworthy.

And if Asher had anything to say about it, I’m sure that his parents already know that their family money financed Cure. So even the bar, which is definitelymybaby, wont really help me out here.

I am second guessing myself, second guessing everything I am, on this walk through the tables. Everything sort of blurs as we walk: the white linen tablecloths, the patrons talking, the faint chime of glassware and tableware being moved around. It only occurs to me when we see Emma’s parents that I’ve not only agreed to live out my worst nightmare, but I encouraged it.

What the fuck was I thinking?

But then there they are, the Alderisis. Albert is in his late fifties, tall and heavy and silver at the temples. Nancy is a few years younger, and thin as a dagger in her pink dress. My mouth goes dry, my expression hardens.

I see them spot me. I see her father take in the way I’m touching her back. It takes them both a second to place me, but when they do her father turns red and her mother’s nostrils flare.

I know that I’m a grown ass man, but in that moment, I’m also a scared little boy. I’m praying that they don’t kick my family out of our temporary home.

Emma stands up a little straighter as we approach. Albert throws his linen napkin on the table and starts to stand up. Emma forestalls him with a gesture.

“You both remember Jameson, don’t you?” she says.

I slide my glance to her, impressed by how ice cold her tone has become. She primly presses her lips together for a second, waiting for them to speak. Her parents just glower at the two of us.

“Emmaline…” her mother says, her voice high pitched. “This is inappropriate. We should talk about this privately, just the three of us.”

“You are fooling no one, young man,” her father says to me. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here with my little girl--”

“Talk to me!” Emma says, loudly enough to make the couple seated at the next table stare. “If you have something to say to Jameson, you can address it to me. There’s no reason to drag him into the dirt.”

“Emma—” her father says, standing up. “I swear to god, you need to quit playing games, here.”

Emma’s jaw juts out, and she cocks her hip. “My relationship with Jameson is serious. Dead serious. As in, I’m wearing his ring, kind of serious.”

Nancy gasps, her hand flying over her mouth. Albert begins to sweat, his veins in his forehead popping out.

“You listen to me, little girl,” he sneers.