We separate and I turn to Quinn, who looks like she’s doing her best not to fidget.
“Quinn, this is my father, Steven DeLaurentis.” A muscle in his jaw twitches at the informal introduction, which just goes to show what a narcissistic bastard he is, expecting me to use his title when introducing him to my friends. “And this is my mom, Lauren.”
My mother positively beams at Quinn, clearly getting the wrong idea.
She’s going to be sorely disappointed when she realizes we’re just friends.
“Mom. Dad. This is myfriendQuinn.”
They shake hands and exchange greetings, but when my father turns back to me, his cool demeanor is back in place.
“I didn’t know you were bringing a guest.”
I make a point of glancing around the crowded ballroom. “What’s one more?”
“That seems to be your philosophy in life.”
I let the dig roll off my back. It’s just the first of many I’ll receive today.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” my mother gushes, falling into the role of peacemaker. For as long as I can remember, it’s been her way to smooth things over between my father and I. “It’s been ages since Cooper brought anyone home to meet us.”
With good reason.
Quinn smiles, her posture relaxing almost imperceptibly. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“How exactly do you two know each other?” my father asks, just the tiniest bit of disapproval tainting his words.
He’s good at that. Keeping the slights so mild, you wonder if you imagined them.
“Her brother is a Sig.”No need to get into the messy details.
At that, he nods approvingly. Like her family affiliation somehow makes her more worthy in his eyes.
Hell, it probably does. He was a Sig himself, which was the only reason I bothered to rush when he suggested it. It wasn’t worth the fight to refuse.
We make small talk for a few minutes, and when Elliot, my father’s assistant, appears, it’s clear our time is up.
Fine by me.
The less I have to deal with the old man, the better.
I promise my mom we’ll find her later, and when they leave, I turn to Quinn.
“Good news. It’s an open bar.”
She grins and shakes her head. “Only you would suggest using my fake at a political rally, or whatever you call this thing.”
“It’s fine. They won’t even card you.” I hook my arm through hers and steer her toward the bar. “It’s literally the only upside to these events.”
At the bar, I order a beer. Quinn, taking my advice, opts for a glass of white wine.
Drinks in hand, we make a tour of the ballroom. After all, that’s the whole reason I’m here. To be seen and play my role as the perfect son in the perfect all-American family.
It’s mind-numbingly boring and after only an hour of making small talk with my father’s guests, I’m ready to scratch my eyes out.
We complete our circuit and commandeer a small, high-topped table in the back of the room.
“I’m sorry I dragged you along today.” I lean down, resting my forearms on the table. “I’m actually interested in politics and I’m bored out of my mind. I can only imagine how you feel.”
