Ruthless In A Suit(61)

“What else do you have planned for tonight?” I ask. We haven’t stopped touching her under the table. I keep nudging her skirt a little higher on her thigh, and she lets me.

“It’s not as big of a surprise as a private pool,” she says. “But I when I was an undergrad I used to go to this place a lot for drinks and music. It’s really cool and I can’t wait to see how you look in there with your slim pants and highly polished dress shoes.”

“What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?” I asked, not that I care.

“Absolutely nothing,” she says, and kisses me. She puts her hand on mine, and I swear she nudges me even higher up on her thigh. Her tongue slips past my lips, and for a moment I forget we’re in public.

“Pizza margherita,” the waitress announces, and we quickly pull apart.

The pie is set precariously on the table along with our wine. Emily picks up her glass and makes a toast. “To Jackson Croft, slumming it in the South End.”

I roll my eyes but clink her glass. “So what do I need to prepare for tomorrow?” I ask her as I put a slice on her plate, then mine. “Is your father going to ask me what are my intentions with you?”

“No,” she says. “My parents are super casual, easy going. They’re going to love you. Although Sabrina might ask that question.”

“Younger sister, right,” I say, remembering. She told me about her family one night when we were curled up in my bed. She spoke about them with a love and enthusiasm that was hard for me to fathom. She clearly not only loves her family but likes being with them. “How old is she again?”

“Twenty-one,” Emily says.

“Oh my God,” I say, having just taken the first bite of the pizza. “This is extraordinary.”

“What’d I tell you?” she says, clearly pleased.

“I was keeping my expectations low but this is pretty much as good as what I’ve had in Naples.”

“Slumming tastes pretty good, huh?”

“Stop,” I say. “I’m not slumming and I don’t think I’m slumming. Now tell me about Sabrina. And Dax. And your parents.”

“Sabrina is opinionated, so I’m really excited to see what happens between the two of you.”

“Great,” I mutter. “Nothing like being set up.”

“Dax is more thoughtful,” she says.

“So he’ll judge me silently. Got it.”

“He works in development for a non-profit in Framingham. One of those big national one,” she says. “And then my parents…”

“Yes, please do tell,” I say. I take another sip of the Chianti and realize that everything balances out perfectly—this meal is damn good, including the wine. I had come in with a snob attitude but look at me now, ready to come back any time.

“I’ll let you figure them out on your own,” she says.

“Great,” I tell her.

“You know,” she says, wiping her hands on her napkin, “you never talk about your family.”

She’s right. We’ve only skimmed over the topic, and I’ve done a good job at dodging and weaving even then.

“All I know is that your father passed away, you have brothers in New York and Los Angeles, and your mom is—where is she again?”

“Monaco. Now you know everything you need to know.” That’s me, weaving away.

“Your brothers are in the family business, right? Are you guys close?”

I try to stifle the laugh but it only makes me cough. Once I’ve recovered I say, “No, we do not get along. We speak as little as necessary.”

“Why? Did something happen? I’d think that with your dad gone and your mother living overseas that you’d want to be close to them.”

“Well I don’t.” It comes out more harshly than I meant so I feel the need to explain. Since I’m meeting her family tomorrow, she deserves to know more about mine. “My father was an asshole. Simple as that. It’s why my mother moved so far away—she couldn’t take him and his harsh rules. And there was one rule in our house: fall in line with whatever Edward Croft said. If you didn’t, you were punished.”

She lowers her voice when she asks, “Did he beat you?”

“No, nothing like that,” I say. “In fact, I can’t remember any time at all that my father laid a finger on me. Not in punishment and not in love. The most important thing to my father was success. Success at any cost. My brothers and I had to be winners, even when we were competing against each other.”

“How could you all be winners if you were all competing against each other?” Emily asks.