Filthy Beast(85)

I shut my door quietly before retreating into my closet.

My fucking father. I finally let the anger that I’ve been suppressing flow through me as soon as I’m in my nook. I want to kill him, scream at him, hurt him as badly as he hurts me. But I can’t do anything. I’m powerless here, and I can’t even contact Gavin to explain. He’s going to wonder where I’ve gone and maybe think that I don’t want to see him anymore.

I can handle a dinner with Milo. That’s not a big deal. I can get through it and pretend like I give a shit about any of it. But what I can’t handle is Gavin thinking I don’t want him anymore.

Because I do. All of this is making me want him even more. Gavin is the first person to let me live the life that I want. He seems to care more about making me happy and making me feel good than getting whatever he wants out of me. He makes everything feel better.

It’s just one dinner, I tell myself. Then I’ll get my phone back and I’ll tell Gavin the truth about what’s happening. He’ll understand.

It’s just one dinner.



Milo smiles at me as he spreads his napkin in his lap. I smile back, trying to make the best of this situation, but inwardly dreading every single moment.

“What do you think of the wine?” he asks me.

I shrug a little and sip it again. “Pretty good.”

He grins. “Pretty good? Please, this is some of the finest wine I’ve ever tasted. A lovely French vintage, I think, from the Somme region.”

I frown a little bit. “Doesn’t it say that on the bottle?”

He pauses. “Well, of course, but I can taste it in the grapes.”

“Right.”

He starts in on a little speech about how each different vintage comes out slightly different due to water levels and blah, blah, blah. I tune him out pretty quickly, idly playing with my fork, smiling and nodding only when required, which isn’t often.

The differences between this date and my date with Gavin couldn’t be more obvious. Gavin took me to a personal spot, a place he clearly loved and cared for, while Milo brought me to the most expensive restaurant he could. It’s a lovely place, and I’m sure the food is great, just like the wine is wonderful, but it feels cold. I can’t really explain it. Luberto’s was warm and inviting and maybe it wasn’t fine dining, but it was family style and it was delicious.

I sigh to myself and glance down at the table. Milo doesn’t seem to notice that I’m not really listening, or maybe he just doesn’t care. Maybe he thinks that having money and knowledge about things like wine, plus a strong family connection, makes him important and special.

Well, it doesn’t. It makes him just like all of the other boys I know: dull and entitled.

The waiter comes after a few minutes. He asks if we’re ready, and Milo doesn’t hesitate.

“Yes, we’ll start with the anchovy spread and the rustic bread, please. The lady will have the halibut and I will have the risotto.”

I blink, a little surprised. I wasn’t in the mood for fish. I was going to order the biggest, juiciest steak on this damn menu and at least try to enjoy that. But by the time I come to my senses, the waiter is already gone.

Milo smiles at me. “Have I ever told you about my father’s yacht?”

I shake my head. “No, I didn’t know he had one.” Of course I knew he has one. Every rich person has one. It’s so cliché.

“Well, we used to go fishing off the coast of Australia. We’d catch these enormous…”

I tune him out again, looking down at my napkin. Milo is nice enough, I guess, but he doesn’t seem to care about anything but talking about himself. In fact, another big difference I noticed between Milo and Gavin is that Milo doesn’t ask me questions about myself.

Gavin seemed genuinely interested in me. He asked questions about my life and followed up on the answers. But he didn’t ask much about my family at all, now that I think about it. He was more interested in me, what I like to do, what my hobbies are.

Milo only seems to care about himself and his family. He’s the kind of man I’ve met a hundred times before, obsessed with image and influence, the sort of stuff my own family is interested in. Even Peter buys into that. Peter is the only person in my family who seems to give a shit about me, but even he is obsessed with image and status above everything else.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live a normal life. I wonder if I would be happy without the money and the status. All this privilege gives me great stuff, and gives me so many opportunities. I don’t have to worry about money. But it also forces me into other roles, like having to be basically auctioned off to the highest bidder. I’m more of a tool than a person in my family structure, but with Gavin, I feel like I’m actually valued as a woman.