My last year before uni, life just started moving so fast. Things were unraveling quicker than I could take hold of them, and it felt like trying to stop a boulder from rolling down a hill. My life was falling into these predetermined paths, and it didn’t even really feel like I was living as much as reacting. I hated it, but I didn’t know how to stop it, other than to leave. Clean slate.
My father called my name again, and I sighed. “Fine. But I’m not spending all night talking to clients or business prospects or whoever he’s playing tonight.
“I’ll be quick,” I promised Bliss. Her expression was blank, and I couldn’t tell now how she was feeling, but her frequently flushed skin looked a wee bit pale. I kissed her forehead, and then did the same to my mother.
“Be nice,” I murmured.
Mum gave a single, solitary chuckle. That was either a very good or a very bad sign.
Two minutes. I’ll be back in two minutes.
I gave Bliss one more parting kiss, and then feeling like the worst fiancé ever, I left her to fend off her shark while I faced mine.
Already eager for the conversation to be over, I stepped up to my father’s group and said, “Yes, Dad?”
“Oh, good. Garrick, you remember Mr. Woods. You did that summer internship at his firm.”
Advertising, I think? Honestly, I couldn’t remember. Dad pushed me into so many internships, they all ran together.
“Of course, Mr. Woods. It’s nice to see you again.”
Mr. Woods was old, in his sixties or seventies maybe. He wore large glasses and his hair was a pale white. His smile made all the wrinkles around his mouth more pronounced, and his skin was worn and wrinkled like old leather as I shook his hand.
“And you as well. That’s a lovely fiancée you have there.”
I smiled. “Thank you. I love her very much, and she keeps my life interesting.”
He barked a laugh, his wrinkles almost disappearing for a second as he did.
“You’re just as spirited as I remember you. Your father has been filling me in on your life in the States. Quite impressive.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. My father had no doubt embellished to the point that I’d probably become the youngest tenured professor at Harvard or some other nonsense.
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t say it was all that impressive.”
“Not easily satisfied. I like that. You’ll be outdoing your father in no time, I’m sure.”
Dad laughed and hooked an arm around my neck like we were wrestling, “Not without a fight he won’t.”
It was all so staged, so forced. And I couldn’t tell if everyone else felt it, or if they were so accustomed to it that they didn’t even notice it anymore.
The men and women gathered around us laughed, and I followed out of habit.
Eight years.
It had been over eight years since I’d moved away, and in less than an hour, I was already getting pulled back into the lifestyle I hated. Fancy parties, nice things, expensive clothes, all covered by a layer of fake so thick that it choked out every real emotion.
It had to have been two minutes by now. And even that felt like two minutes too many.
“It was so nice seeing you again, Mr. Woods, but I should get back to my fiancée.” I nodded at the rest of the people in the group and said, “Ladies. Gentlemen.”
“Just one second before you run off, Garrick.”
I stopped short, and tried not to look aggravated.
“Yes, Mr. Woods?”
Gradually, the others around us began to break off until it was just my old boss and my father.
“I wanted to talk to you about a job opening—”
Jesus. Not even a decent night’s sleep before it started.
“Oh, sir, I—”
“Now hear me out. I have a PR position open, the same division where you did your internship actually. And I’ve been through half a dozen men in the last three years for this position. They’re all smart enough, but they’re just missing that special quality that attracts people, that makes clients feel at ease. They’re not like you or your father.” I tried not to bristle at being compared to my father and the quality I despised most in him. “I remember you doing fantastic work in your internship. And by the sound of what your father has told me, you’re quick to adapt and learn.” He pulled out a business card from his pocket and held it out to me. “Just think about it. Give me a call, and we’ll talk it all through. It doesn’t hurt to just consider it.”
I looked at the card, but didn’t take it.
“That’s very kind, Mr. Woods. But Bliss and I have no plans to move to London.” I directed my last few words to my father, as firmly as I could without seeming angry.
For the first time, my dad cut in and said, “Maybe it’s something you should think about, Garrick. It’s a good job.”
I’m sure it was a fine job. But it wasn’t a coincidence that this interest was coming now with my father watching on. He was a puppeteer pulling strings, but I’d cut mine a long time ago.
Mr. Woods added, “If it makes a difference, I’m sure it would be a significant step-up in pay from teaching, and we’d cover your relocation.”
If it were a significant step-up from teaching, it would be about three or four steps up from what I was doing now. It had been difficult segueing back into part-time work and small contracts from my comfortable job at the university. But we were making it.
I took the card just to end the ambush and said, “I’ll think about it. But I really am happy where I’m at.”
I could feel my father’s stare, but I didn’t meet his gaze.
I nodded at Mr. Woods. “It was nice seeing you again. Thank you for coming. Enjoy the party.”
Then I turned, and stuffed the card into my pocket. I made it just a few feet before my father stopped me for our first private conversation of the night. In years, really.
“I know what you’re thinking, Garrick, but you should give this job a fair shot.”
“I have a job, Dad.” Several, actually.
“But this is a job that could really lead somewhere. If you keep doing what you’re doing, you’ll be forty and working at a restaurant to make ends meet. These kinds of opportunities won’t be around then.”
“Thanks for the confidence, Dad.”
“Don’t give me that. You’re an adult. You don’t need me in the stands cheering you on and lying to you. You’re about to have a wife, a new life. What you need is to grow up and get a real job. Something with real benefits.”
Oh, the irony of him lecturing me on what was real.
“Thanks for the talk, Dad. But I need to go find Bliss and Mum.”
I maneuvered around him and left before he could drag me back into the argument. I was halfway across the room before I really looked around.
Bliss wasn’t where I’d left her. And neither was my mother.
8
Bliss
GOD, HIS MOM should have been a lawyer instead of working in finance. Just her stare was like a fishing hook, luring all my secrets out of me. And I was the poor fish, dangling on the line, a rusty piece of metal tearing me open. An hour alone with her on the stand, and I would be in the fetal position, reciting the traumas of my childhood, like that time Jimmy pantsed me at the top of the slide during recess in third grade.
“And have you two set a date yet?”
I almost asked her if she would prefer to choose for us.
“Well . . . we’re not set on anything yet. But we were thinking maybe June. Or August.”
“Of next year? Oh, that could definitely work.”
“This year, actually . . . ma’am.”
“This year? But that’s only a couple months from now.”
“I know, but we weren’t thinking of anything big. Just a small ceremony for close friends and family.”
“But you won’t have even been engaged for a year at that point.”
This was one thing I wouldn’t submit to her on. There was no way in hell that I was waiting over a year to get married. Garrick and I had had enough waiting for a lifetime.
“Yes, but we’ve been together over a year.”
“No, you—” His mother stopped, her brows furrowed and one finger in the air. “Wait, you’ve been together over a year?”
I nodded, and then immediately wished I hadn’t. Her eyes narrowed, and she fixed me with a look that was more sledgehammer than fishhook.
“I was under the impression that the two of you met in Philadelphia. But Garrick would have been teaching in Texas a year ago.”
I swallowed. God, please don’t tell me that Garrick hadn’t told them about how we’d met. After he told Graham and his big speech about not lying or being ashamed, I had just assumed that he’d told them, the basics anyway.
Based on the calculating look on his mother’s face, I was going to say that was a big, fat no. “So the two of you met in Texas?”
I tried to say yes, but really I just made noises and nodded.
“How old are you, Bliss?”
I could have narcolepsy! That would get me out of this question, right? I could just pretend to pass out. Or maybe I could really pass out?
My non-answer must have been enough to confirm things for her because she spun on her heel and started in Garrick’s direction.
I darted around her and held my hands up.
“Mrs. Taylor, wait. We didn’t do anything wrong. I promise.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Her smile gave me chills. “I don’t think you did anything wrong.”
“You don’t?” I was shocked into silence.
“No, dear. My son is the one who has done something wrong.”
I flinched back like she’d slapped me. I had enough doubts about Garrick being with me in my head, all of which seemed to have compounded in the hours since we’d arrived. I didn’t need her adding any more to that. I stood up taller, and in my plain clearance dress, I faced off against her immaculate, no doubt heinously expensive cocktail dress.
“With all due respect, Mrs. Taylor. You’re wrong. Your son loves me. And I love him. We’re both adults, as we were when we met. If you make a big deal out of this now, you’ll only ruin this party and possibly the already unstable relationship you have with your son. He’s twenty-six, almost twenty-seven years old. He has a career and a fiancée, and you’re not going to win any battles by treating him like he’s a kid again. He’s an adult,” I reiterated, though that was another word that had been said and thought so many times it was beginning to lose its meaning. “We both are. How we met doesn’t matter.”
Her red lips flattened into a line, and her gaze felt sharp enough to slice bread. She made this sound in her throat, not quite a laugh, more like a noise of surprise. “You have a head on your shoulders after all.”
Hey there, backhanded compliment. We’ve been seeing a lot of each other.
She was the one missing vital organs . . . like a heart. She stared at me for a few moments longer, and then smoothly turned her back to where Garrick was standing.