“Well, that makes it easy for us,” Claire says, holding up two sweaters. “We need to get downstairs and beat them to the punch—ask them if we can walk the dogs and see the garden first.”
“You should wear the green one,” I say, pointing to the one with the lower neckline. “And you’re brilliant. We should play our cards just as you suggest.”
“Aww, the blackjack player using card analogies. Very cute.” Claire stands and swats my legs with her top. “Now, get dressed. And we need to be matchy-matchy. I want them to think we’re the perfect couple.”
I nod, but inside I silently say words that shock me. We are the perfect couple.
When we get downstairs for breakfast everyone is sitting at the massive oak table. Fiona and Geoffrey have crossed arms and pursed lips. Mum and Dad look confused and upset. All I want is some tea and toast.
“What is it?” I ask, pulling out a chair for Claire, remembering to be the perfect gentleman. I look at my mum for approval, but her head is now buried in her hands.
“So, Claire … tell us, what kind of life do you live in Las Vegas?” Fiona asks, picking up her teacup, emphasizing Las Vegas with disdain.
We’ve just been seated and haven’t even taken a bite of food.
“Um, well. What would you like to know?” Claire maneuvers her answer expertly as she takes a seat.
“What do you do for a living?”
“I told you last night. I work in the hospitality sector.”
Fiona snorts. “See,” she says flippantly to my mum. “Told you.”
“Told what?” I ask.
“Hospitality sector is a quaint way of saying cocktail waitress,” Geoffrey scoffs. “Admit it, Landon, this girl is no different than the other birds you’ve brought here on holiday. The only difference is this girl has a rock on her finger. On loan, I might add.”
“How do you know that?” I ask, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. I don’t know why him mentioning that I didn’t buy the ring outright embarrasses me, but for some reason I don’t want Claire to know that.
“I called around,” Geoffrey says, picking up a piece of toast as if this conversation is—as if Claire and I are—beneath him. “It’s not that difficult to look up an address, search a few databases. Ask a few tech friends to run a few things on your fiancée, a few things on you.”
“Oh, don’t ruin a perfectly nice family holiday,” Mum says, setting down her napkin. “All I want is my family all together, under one roof.”
“Well, first of all, it’s not a holiday, Mum. We’ve gathered for a family business meeting. One we must have sooner or later. Besides, our family is all together,” Geoffrey digs. “But not Claire’s. Tell them, Claire, what family did you leave at home?”
Claire’s face goes white, as if she’s seen a ghost.
Geoffrey and Fiona seem to have crossed a line ... I just don’t know what line that this.
“What?” I ask her, confused. Claire’s eyes are already brimming with tears.
“I ... can’t....” Then she’s up, running from the room.
And then she’s gone.
Chapter Fifteen
Claire
I don’t want to be a drama queen. I swear to God I don’t. I came downstairs today wanting an English family breakfast where everyone eats clotted cream and scones and drinks Earl Grey tea.
Running out makes me look like a basket case ... but I can’t help it.
Fiona’s look of hatred and Geoffrey’s apparent disdain for me solidified everything I fear. Being judged for being the person I am.
I love my daughter; I love the fact that I live with my mom and that the family I have is close to me.
What I hate is holier-than-thou people. Especially ones who are only that way because they happen to be living a life of estates and diamond tycoons and passports filled with stamps from the entire world.
What I hate is that I feel less-than because I live in the desert in my mother’s house. Because my baby-daddy left before our daughter was born. Because I don’t have a college degree or a retirement plan—or anything, really, besides my girl.
And shouldn’t that be enough?
Landon follows me from the house, calling my name, but I want to keep running. I’ve run down a stone pathway, and I don’t know where it leads, but what’s new? I don’t know much of anything.
Right now, all I know is that I hate Landon finding out about Sophia this way. I shouldn’t have held my cards so close. And I know this is just a job ... but when Landon looks at me, kisses me, says he loves me? I swear it is something more.