Page 15 of Learning Little Lizzie
“I’m not stubborn.” Okay, that was a lie. And judging by the way his eyebrow raised and the corner of his mouth tilted up in clear amusement, he was well aware she was being less than truthful.
“All right.” Leaning back, he picked up his menu and dropped his gaze again. “We can pick up this discussion again later, when you’re feeling a bit more comfortable talking to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There are plenty of things for us to talk about, especially around your limits. But for now, I’m more curious about the lasagna. Have you had it?”
Well, if he was fine changing the subject, she certainly wasn’t going to insist they continue their conversation. She was perfectly content letting it drop and never revisiting this topic again. “I have and it’s delicious. Honestly, there’s nothing here that isn’t fucking amazing.”
“Language, Eliza. That’s another ten.”
“Seriously? I can’t even cuss now?”
“No. My Little girl does not use such naughty language.”
“That’s not fair!”
“It’s entirely fair. I’m your guardian, so I make the rules.”
Once again she was tempted to march herself out to Master Derek’s office to tell him she was out. Done. Bye bye, birdie.
But she really wanted to finish school, and Rawhide University was the only place she could find the kind of structure she needed. She’d failed out of college twice already, and even though she was still struggling with her classes here at the Ranch, she’d already completed two whole years of courses here. Which was two years more than she’d managed anywhere else.
And there were all those little reminders of her friends, waiting to be unpacked in her new “home”. If she left, would she ever see Kylie again? Would she get another chance to make her laugh or to tease her about her just-a-friendship with Dan?
The thought of never seeing them again far outweighed being treated like a child.
“Fine. I’ll try to curb the swearing, but I don’t make any promises.”
“That’s perfectly all right. I know how to clean out a naughty girl’s mouth if necessary.”
Which probably meant soap. Great.
Their waitress came and took their orders, leaving Eliza with nothing to do but try and avoid her guardian’s all-too-seeing gaze as he studied her from across the table.
“So, Eliza. Tell me about your parents.”
“More therapy?” she muttered, crossing her arms and deliberately looking off to the side so she wouldn’t have to look at him.
“I prefer to think of it as getting to know each other. And I happened to know a Professor Michael Bennett years ago. I was wondering if there might be any relation.”
Of course he knew her father. Probably her mother, as well. A knot formed in her stomach, and she had to swallow hard several times before she could get the words out. “He’s my father.”
“Ah. A rather brilliant man if I remember correctly. And his wife… Lydia, I think her name was? When I met them, she was working on her PhD, I believe.”
“Yup. Literature, specifically focusing on Jane Austen. Hence my name, Eliza Bennett. Legally I’m Elizabeth, but I refused to answer to anything other than Eliza in the second grade, much to my mother’s dismay.” Eliza rolled her eyes. “I’m not actually convinced she didn’t marry my father just to take his last name.”
“I imagine it was difficult, growing up in their shadows.”
There was no judgment in his tone, and it helped to loosen the knot in her stomach a bit. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“How would you put it?”
Fuck it. If she was stuck with him, she might as well let him know what he had to work with. Maybe he’d realize what her parents had years ago: That she was a lost fucking cause.
She shifted her gaze back to his stupidly handsome face, locking her eyes with his. “I would say it was a nightmare. My parents are two of the greatest minds of the century in their respective fields. They assumed, incorrectly, that their DNA combined would create a genius that surpassed even their own. Instead they got me, a loud, obnoxious troublemaker who barely graduated high school by the skin of her teeth and can’t keep a job to save her life.”
“That does sound a bit like a nightmare, for you. Parental expectations can be… suffocating.”
