Bossy(93)

“Fine, suit yourself.” He shrugs, opens the cabinet under the sink and finds the garbage can. Beginning to clear the plates into it, he glances up at me. “I’ll rinse, and you can load the dishwasher.”

I blink, caught off guard by his change of gears. He’s already rinsing and looks at me, daring me to make a scene about nothing. When I come closer, it’s cautiously, like a skittish animal approaching a wolf. “Alright.” I open the dishwasher without taking my eyes off him. “But no funny stuff. I mean it.”

“Of course.” He smirks, making me want to wipe it right off him. “Here.” He hands me the first rinsed plate. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it’s not long before we’re done, and I’m almost convinced we’re past it. I close the dishwasher and turn towards the living room.

I’m just about there, when he whips a towel and catches me right on the ass. “Good work, Sis.”

Of course he gets me just as I’m entering the living room, so all I can do is hiss out of the corner of my mouth, “I’m not your sis.” He laughs and pats me on the shoulder like we’re buddies and I just said something funny.

“Oh, there you guys are.” Mom and Herbert turn towards us. “We were wondering if we were going to have to come in and get you.” Mom’s smiling, like she’s happy to see us getting along. I can’t screw this up for her.

I shrug. “Oh, you know, we’re just talking.”

Mom’s gentle smile turns into a mischievous grin. “Better not be any hanky panky. You’re going to be siblings, you know.”

They laugh it up while I just want to crawl into a hole and hide. My face is blushing so hot it must be glowing. This is one of the worst days ever. Second only to The Incident. What do those two things have in common? Oh right, Gavin.

The devil speaks up. “I wouldn’t think of it, ma’am. I’ll be on my best behavior.” His arrogant smirk smooths right into a sweet smile that’s like he specially designed it to melt the hearts of girlfriends’ mothers. Maybe he did. He probably practices it in front of the mirror every morning.

“Oh, Gavin. Call me Marie.” Of course the smile’s working.

“Of course, Marie. Thank you.”

Aaarrgh!

Herbert clears his throat. “I’d like your attention for a moment.” He smoothly pulls two envelopes out of the inner pocket of his blazer. “As you all know, I asked for Marie’s hand in marriage yesterday, and I think it’s a cause for celebration.”

I hold my breath. This sounds big.

“Marie, I’ve gotten us tickets on the Golden Emperor of the Seas, the most exclusive cruise ship in the world. Two weeks in the utmost of luxury. What do you say? A little celebration, and maybe a surprise or two.”

Holy crap, that sounds expensive. I glance at Gavin, finding his face surprisingly hard, his narrowed eyes glaring at Mom. What’s that all about?

“Herbie.” Mom’s eyes are glistening, filling up with tears. “I—I wish you’d asked me first.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Herbert’s eyes narrow, and I see the family resemblance.

“I—Oh, God, this is embarrassing—I get seasick. Violently. I can barely look at a boat without throwing up. The idea of spending a couple of weeks on one terrifies me.” She watches Herbert’s face closely as it stiffens. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

He blinks, and then slowly, his lips curl upwards. He breaks into loud laughter, throwing the tickets onto the table. “Go figure.” He smiles at her, and for a moment I’m jealous of my own mother, because I want someone to look at me like that. “Nothing to be sorry about, darling. We’ll just find something else. You’re right. I should’ve asked first.” He looks a bit embarrassed.

“Well, I didn’t make dessert, but I did buy some cookies. Let me go get them.” Mom gets up, straightening her skirt.

Herbert is up just as quickly. “I’ll join you, and get rid of these.” His eyes sparkle with mischief as he picks up the cruise tickets. They head to the kitchen together, Mom walking with a wiggle I don’t think I’ve seen her use in my whole life. With Herbert walking behind her, I suppose I know why, though. He casually drops the tickets into the recycling bin as he passes by.

He’s going to throw them out? Just like that? Must be nice to be a freaking billionaire. I take a moment to imagine myself on a cruise ship, soaking up sun, drinking sangrias. And not sparkling grape juice. “I think I’ll get some water.”

Gavin grabs my wrist. “I wouldn’t, unless you want to catch your mom making out.”