I’ve never met either of his parents, but Maggie pulled up some of Wes’s social media posts when she found out about hislast name, and I recognize the strangers flanking me from his family vacation pictures.
Mr. Holbrooke offers me a much warmer greeting than his wife as everyone makes their introductions, but both parents choose to ignore their son’s question until he’s forced to ask again.
“We heard through the grapevine about a lovely lady you’ve been courting, and we just wanted to meet her, is all,” his mom says, dropping her gaze to me. It’s the kind of look that could pin a butterfly, and I suspect she sees me as one.
Wes rolls his eyes and tilts his head up to the ceiling, as if asking a higher power for patience, and with good reason. This isn’t just a quick how-do-you-do. Nobody asked, at least not when his parents approached us, yet a waiter pulls up two chairs on either side of our table.
They’rejoiningus.
“Is this really necessary?” Wes asks, turning to his father for help.
“If you wish to be kept in the will, it is,” Mrs. Holbrooke answers instead.
A blush begins spreading over Wes’s face, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because he’s embarrassed of me.
“I am so sorry,” he mouths from across the table, looking like he wants to sink into the floor. The way he grimaces as soon as the interrogation starts at least assures me his mortification has everything to do with his parents.
I answer your standard getting-to-know-you questions, thinking I’m doing okay, but Mrs. Holbrooke brings that to a screeching halt when she says, “Given recent events regarding Wesley’s cousin, it’s clear we need to do our due diligence when it comes to someone getting close to anyone in our family.”
Oh god.
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
She knows. She found out about what happened senior year. She’s going to tell Wes. What if he tells someone else? Someone from college? Will they dig up everything? Am I going to become “Birdie” all over again? Will I need to transfer to a different university?
Mrs. Holbrooke, or Audrey, as she insists, assures me before my horrified reaction even has time to make it to my face, “Wesley’s father and I began dating back when paparazzi and the tabloids were all the rage, so I never bother with gossip that can be twisted into whatever narrative the rumor mill wishes. If I did, then I’d have to believe I’ve been pregnant fifty times and gotten secretly married at least five.”
Mr. Holbrooke and Wes chuckle at this, and the panic building in my chest eases ever so slightly.
“That being said, in this day and age, everybody shares everything about their lives online, so it’s not hard finding evidence when it comes to a bad actor,” she says. “Wesley tells me you already come from an affluent family of your own, and we see that you have several major academic achievements, which is very encouraging, but I must say it’s a little suspicious that someone your age only has her social media accounts set to private. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate the idea that you won’t be using my son for clout, but to have a very limited social media footprint also seems like a potential red flag.”
“I’m just a private person,” I say, trying to shrug nonchalantly. “And with school, I figured social media would probably be a distraction, so I don’t use it often.”
Technically, that is true. If you have an Untouchable (let aloneallof them) out to get you, having an online profile where they can cyber-stalk and troll you day in and day out would definitely be distracting.
The answer appeases Audrey, at least to some degree, and theinterrogationconversation continues without letting up. I’masked about school, what major I’m working towards, and what have you, which is fine…but then things shift to a more personal note.
Very personal.
“Why are you single?”
“Do you see children in your future?”
“How would you feel about becoming a stay-at-home wife?”
“What is your political affiliation?”
What, what, what, what?
The questions don’t get any better, and Wes’s head sinks so low that his forehead hits the table. He lets out a low groan, begging her to stop.
She doesn’t. “These are important things to know, Wesley, and it’s better to learn them early on than be surprised by something you don’t like later into the relationship.”
And since Mr. Holbrooke isn’t objecting, he evidently agrees with his wife’s tactics, which leaves me blushing from head to heels.
“Will you excuse me?” I point towards where I saw the restrooms on my way in, not waiting for a response. I’m up and out of there so fast you’d think a bomb was about to go off.
Unsurprisingly, I wind up bumping into a mirror, believing it to be the hallway for the restroom. Somebody near the bar laughs, but I don’t feel too bad when I notice an older gentleman making the same mistake thirty seconds later as I duck into the actual hallway.
