Page 5 of Before You Go
As he’s closing the door, I walk down the hall a little way and lean back against the wall across from one of the pictures we took as a family for my father’s social media platforms during his campaign. Between the photo editing and our plastic smiles, you’d never know that my mom and I had spent the morning crying after getting the news that her grandmother—my great-grandma—had passed away. Or that my brother Jacob was high as a kite, and he and Dad had just gotten into a blow-out fight that ended with Jacob having his car taken away from him for a month.
Coming out of my thoughts, when my cell phone begins to ring, I pull it out of my clutch and smile when I see it’s my best friend Molly calling.
I answer, putting my cell to my ear. “Hey, are you here?”
“No, and please don’t hate me.”
“You’re not coming.” My shoulders slump forward.
Molly has been my saving grace at these functions since we were kids, and both were forced by our parents to attend these parties. Early on, we figured out ways to make it fun for ourselves.
When we were little, we would sneak the extra desserts our moms always said no to and hide under a table somewhere, eating as many as we wanted until we couldn’t anymore. When we were teens, we’d sneak alcohol and get drunk without our parents ever noticing because they were normally too busy socializing to pay much mind to us. And as adults, we usually end up tucked away in a corner, people-watching and talking about all the drama that’s happening in everyone’s lives. And there is always a lot of drama—from affairs to girlfriends attending when wives are out of town, pregnancy scares, and kids of these people who should probably be locked up but never will be because their families can afford great lawyers.
“I was on the way out the door to meet you when I got a call from a client,” she says, dragging me back to the conversation. “They want to look at a property that just came on the market, so I’m meeting them in an hour. I’m not sure how long this showing will take, but last time I met with them, we spent over two hours inside the house and walking the property.”
“It’s fine. I totally understand.”
“I’m sorry,” she replies quietly, and I can hear the guilt in her voice. “I just can’t pass up the chance of possibly making a sale since this month has been so slow.”
“Stop, I love you. It’s fine. I know you have to work.”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “I’m not sure why I was in such a hurry to grow up. Adulting is lame, and I absolutely do not recommend it.”
“Me neither.” I laugh as the bathroom door opens, and Dayton steps out into the hall, adjusting his suit jacket. An attractive grin curves his lips when he finds me waiting for him.
“Have you seen Matthew yet?” Molly asks, and my smile slides away.
“No.” I force my eyes off the man walking toward me. “I just got here. I haven’t even seen my parents yet.”
“Well, let me know how that goes, and call if you need me.”
“I will, and good luck.”
“You too.” She hangs up after saying goodbye, and I turn for the living room, tucking my phone back into my clutch.
“Everything okay?”
“Yep, my friend just called to let me know she’s not going to be able to make it tonight.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I step into the living room and find Jacob lying with his head on the arm of the couch and an entire bottle of champagne in one hand, the TV remote in the other.
“Hey, sis.”
“Are you hiding in here from Mom and Dad?”
“Yep.” He lifts the bottle up and out toward me. “And you might want to hang with me. I just saw Matthew, and he’s here with someone.” His gaze slides to Dayton. “Or maybe not, since it looks like you brought someone of your own.”
“Dayton, this is my brother Jacob. Jacob, this is Dayton. He works for the district attorney. We just met a few minutes ago.”
“You move fast, sis.” He smiles, jerking up his chin in a silent hello to the man next to me.
“You’re an idiot.” I roll my eyes at him and head toward the door.
“Let me know if you want me to kick Matthew’s ass,” he calls out as the TV turns on.
Ignoring him, I open the door and come face-to-face with my mom, who looks wide-eyed and panicked.
