"Oh, where do you work?"
My face burned. "Actually, I'm unemployed, but Will offered me a contract to design logos for Luke's campaign."
I was clearly going from bad to worse. Her lips whitened.
"And I suppose you thought my son would be a great career booster?"
"No!" A sickening feeling spread through my stomach when she smiled. "No, I swear to God, he contacted my agency and set up a meeting without me knowing. I never asked him for anything. He can tell you that himself."
"Hmm," was all she said. "Perhaps my son needs someone like you to keep him grounded. Someone unassuming. Humble."
It sounded like an insult as much as a compliment. "Thanks. I didn't even want to date him, at first."
Why the hell did you say that?
I cringed as his mother gave me an extremely offended look. "What's wrong with my son?"
"Well," I began, almost laughing out of nerves. "You know, his issues." My voice drifted into a squeak.
"No, I'm sorry. I don't know."
My blood churned. "His panic attacks."
"What are you talking about?"
She had no idea what I was talking about. My mouth trembled. He never told his parents. No one knew anything. Jesus Christ. I was treading on very dangerous ground. Will probably wouldn't appreciate me telling his mother about his emotional issues.
"Never mind. I shouldn't talk about it." But my insides rebelled. Shouldn't I tell his mother? Didn't he need help? Stay out of it.
"If my son is in trouble, I deserve to know about it."
"It's really none of my business, but I think if Will wanted you to know, he would tell you. He's just having a hard time coping with the accident."
I swallowed hard at the venomous look on her face.
"Natalie, you seem like a nice girl, so I'll return the favor and tell you this nicely. We don't ever discuss or mention that incident in this house. Ever."
A chill froze my lungs. It was clear that I wasn't going to get her on my side if I ever wanted Will to get help. The whole family ignored it. No wonder he felt so alone. I looked squarely into her eyes, angry with her for ignoring his pain.
"He had a panic attack while he was driving. We could have died. He needs help and ignoring the problem won't make it go away."
Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and I stood up from the table, walking away and never feeling so uncomfortable. Jessica had been here with Luke, and she told me that being there was one of the most uncomfortable experiences in her life. Now, I knew why.
I nearly ran into Will as I turned into the foyer. The dark look on his face told me that he heard everything.
Oh, shit.
"Come," he said, gripping my wrist.
I followed him upstairs wordlessly as he led me into one of the guest rooms with our luggage already inside.
"Will," I said, already falling apart at the grim look on his face. "I'm sorry. I was just angry-"
"I don't know whether I should be impressed that you stood up to my mother or pissed that you told her something that was none of her business."
I stared at his crossed arms and laughed. "Oh, come on. She's your mother; of course it's her business. You're a family."
"Natalie, not all of us feel that our parents are entitled to every detail of our personal lives."
That stung. "Meaning what? That I'm a slave to my parents?"
He shrugged and smiled at me, too polite to agree with what I said. "Look, I understand why you did it. Just let me handle this my way, okay? I will tell them."
"Fine." I told him. "Um-I need to call my mom."
Will chuckled and laid on the bed. "I'll be quiet."
I inhaled a deep breath to try and quiet the storm building in my head. It was always nerve wracking to call my parents. I dialed the number and turned my back firmly on Will.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Mom. How are you?"
"Natalie! Finally! We've been waiting for your call. How's Europe?"
"It was great, actually. I'm in Chicago right now with Will."
"Chicago? What for?"
I continued on without thinking. "He needed to see his parents."
"Oh, so they get to meet you before we get to meet your new boyfriend?"
Shit. "No, Mom. It's not like that."
"What's their house like? Are they filthy rich? What kind of cars do they have?"
My dad's voice suddenly entered the conversation. I pressed the phone against my face, hoping that William couldn't hear a word.
"Tom!"
"It's a big brick mansion," I said, ignoring their gasps. "Listen, I'll be home soon, I think."
"Thanksgiving is in a few weeks. We want you to bring Will over!"
"No, Mom. We've only been dating for a few weeks."
"If you don't bring him, we'll ask Ben to come over. He's visited us twice, Natalie. Asking where you are-what your boyfriend is like-"
"What?" I shrieked. "Do not invite my ex for Thanksgiving! I don't want to see him!"
What the fuck is wrong with them both?
"Then bring Will over. Okay, we'll see you soon!"
Click. I stared at the phone in stunned disbelief. All they talked about during the whole conversation was Will. His family and their wealth fascinated them. They didn't even ask me how I was doing. They didn't care about the designs I made on the trip.
"Are you okay?"
I faced Will, who was sitting up on the bed and looking at me with concern. I clenched my phone and was seized with a desire to hurl it across the room. "I can't believe this. They're going to invite Ben for Thanksgiving if you don't come with me."
"So don't go."
My heart hammered. "I can't just not go-I'd never hear the end of it. She would call me ten times a day to bitch at me. Please, please, Will."
A small sob shook my throat and he slid off the bed, looking frustrated with me but gathering me in his arms.
"I've never asked you for anything. Please come over on Thanksgiving, and they'll shut up about you. They just want to fawn over you."
"I don't mind meeting them, Natalie. The only thing that bothers me is the reason why you want me there."
"What do you mean?"
"You only want me there to appease your parents."
I pulled away from him. "That's not true!"
"Then why the reluctance?"
"Because you'll hate it. They'll suck up to you because you're rich. I don't want you to think badly of them."
He rolled his eyes at me. "Is that all? I'm used to that. Don't worry, I'll be there."
I stammered thanks as he grabbed my waist and I hotly remembered the time alone with him in Cinque Terre. He kissed me and warmth spread to my toes; his tongue flicked inside my mouth and I felt my muscles unknotting.
His hands wandered down my jeans and I kissed him more urgently as desire shot upwards the more he touched me. He slipped under my jeans and played with my panties, squeezing my bare flesh. I heard myself moan and I knew he was remembering that night, too.
"William!"
We sprang apart as his mother called for him outside the door. He grimaced and tried to shift his pants so that his erection wasn't so obvious.
"Yes?"
"Your father is here."
"Okay, I'll be down there soon."
We heard her walk away.
"He has the worst timing." Will slid his arm around my waist and planted a kiss on my neck. "I've got to talk to him and you have got to come with me."
"What?" I yelped. "No way." For some reason I found the idea of meeting his father, much, much worse.
"He knows you're here. C'mon."
He slapped my ass and grinned as I scowled at him. The door flew open and he tugged me forward, even though I wanted to dig in my heels.
A lightning bolt seared up my spine as I heard him downstairs, talking in a low voice. William laughed at me as I stopped on the staircase.
"Keep going, doll. Or I'll keep squeezing your ass."
Doll?
A ruthless pinch made me start forward. I ignored William's deep laughs as I descended the staircase. We passed the marble foyer and entered a living room, which contained a white grand piano and a gold painting ceiling; we crossed over and entered the next room, which was a richly dark-brown study. I stopped at the threshold, but William continued inside.
Domenico Pardini, CEO of Pardini Worldwide, sat behind a mahogany desk with a phone to his ear. William stopped in front of the desk and crossed his arms, waiting patiently for his father to get off the phone.
He was a thin reed of a man, with a wiry mustache and angry, dark eyes. He still wore a business suit and looked utterly terrifying, because his face was devoid of any joy. He stood up from the desk, revealing a lean, skinny waist.
"Goodbye."
Will's father hung up the phone and glared at his son.
"You are not supposed to be here, William."
I knew what he meant. We came back early from the campaign because William felt that he had to return to Chicago immediately. I was hoping to slink out of the room, unnoticed.