My jaw drops.
“Trust me. Better for everyone that way.”
I shake my head and drop the slice of pizza back on my plate. “If you’re that ashamed of introducing me to your parents, why did you even marry me?”
“No, no. It’s not you. It’s them. I’m…” He gets a second scotch. “I can’t begin to explain the situation with my parents. It’s like…” he searches for words, “such a cliché that even the worst soap opera would be ashamed to use it.”
“But…”
“Okay, listen. My father’s on his sixth wife”—Elliot’s mouth twists into a sneer—“who will be gone in a pointlessly anticlimactic divorce within a year. Mom married some Russian guy after her previous husband died. Rich, of course, from what I heard. Other than that I have no idea. I haven’t even met the man. Only learned about her latest marriage on the news. The guy she married is apparently a big deal in Moscow.”
My lips part, but I can’t think of a single thing to say.
“Don’t look at me like that. Things are the way they are, and hey, the whole fucked-up situation gave me and Lucas plenty of free time to work on our algorithm. Which gave us all this.” He sweeps the penthouse with one hand. “Independence.”
“That sounds awful,” I say quietly, empathy welling inside.
He shrugs. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me. I don’t want you to think you have anything to be ashamed of in front of my family. The only person whose opinion matters is you. Just do what you’re comfortable with. In fact, if you want, we can skip the whole thing. It doesn’t matter.”
But it does matter. I’ve seen how close he is to Elizabeth. He’d want to have her over at least. And if he’s half as attached to his other siblings, I want to meet them as well.
“No, we’re going to do it,” I say. “Why don’t you give me your assistant’s name or somebody who can guide me? I’ve never done an event before, so I’d appreciate some help.”
He watches me with a hooded gaze, then shrugs. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Annabelle
The rest of the week flies by. Nonny settles in at her new school and has no complaints. But I’d be surprised if she did. She seems to have a bit of hero worship for Elliot.
The nightmare doesn’t return, thank god. But Elliot takes me like a man on a mission every night, as though he’s determined to make me come as many times as possible. I’m sore all over, especially between my legs. But I can’t really complain when I feel so languid and content.
My biggest worries—the tasks that consume most of my energy—are the reception and finding a job. Since I can’t start college again yet, I want to go ahead and work. Being idle is driving me nuts. And after tonight, I won’t even have the reception planning to keep me busy.
“So who’s coming?” Elliot asks, adjusting his shirt in front of the mirror in the master bedroom. He’s left the top two buttons undone, revealing the muscular pillar that is his throat. The dark slacks are perfectly tailored to fit him. I’m certain he doesn’t buy anything off the rack. His clothes are cut too precisely to highlight all his key assets—his broad chest, thick arms and that oh-my-god ass.
I don’t bother to glance at my notebook. Everything’s been memorized. “I invited all your siblings, and I think they’re all coming except maybe for Lucas. He didn’t respond, so I’m not sure.” I look at the dresses in the walk-in closet. Just yesterday I knew exactly what I was going to wear, but now I’m not sure if the red dress is the right choice. The color’s too bold for a wedding reception.
A shadow crosses his face. “He isn’t coming then.” He sighs. “I was hoping he would.”
“I’m sorry.” I stop what I’m doing and look at him. “I should’ve followed up more. When I couldn’t reach him the first time—”
“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “It is what it is. I knew he probably wouldn’t. But… Did you invite Ryder too?”
“Yes.”
“And he’s coming?”
“He said he was.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Ah, nothing. I just thought he was going to spend the entire year in Thailand.”
“Maybe he’s making a special trip just for you.”
Elliot smiles. “Maybe. You watch, he’ll call it doing me a favor.” He snorts, but there’s warmth in his eyes.