“No, it’s fine. I made muffins,” I add unnecessarily, and wave my hand at the table in the vain hope that’ll take some of the heat off me.
“Wonderful.” Mom sits in my vacated seat and turns her attention to Zach. “This is Russell.” She indicates my ex, who gives a stiff nod and goes to lean against the balcony wall. “An old friend of the family.”
At least she didn’t call him my former fiancé. Not that Zach looks appeased.
Charity brings out extra cups and plates and pours coffee, while Mom chats about absolutely nothing, the way she does at her social functions. Since she’s never done that here before, it’s all for show in front of Zach.
I guess it’s better than an awkward silence, but it still grates on my nerves. I glance at Zach. His expression’s carved in granite, and it looks like one false move and he’ll be out of here. No one would guess just five minutes ago he was laughing and joking. It’s like he’s turned into a different person.
And I know why. It’s not because my mom is doing her lady-that-lunches thing. It’s because Russell’s here. I shoot him a dark glare, but his gaze is fixed on Zach, as though he can’t believe his eyes.
I want to put my arm around Zach’s shoulders so there’s no mistaking exactly what our relationship is, but I have the terrible fear that a gust of wind’s going to blow my dress up and show everyone I’m not wearing any lingerie. So I keep my hands on my thighs and hope Zach isn’t really as pissed off as he looks.
…
Zach
Grace’s mom hasn’t shut up since the moment she walked onto the balcony. She keeps tossing her head so her long blonde hair, which is pulled up into a ponytail, bounces over her shoulders. She could easily pass for thirty years old.
I see where Grace gets her class from, though. Her mom’s not given me a sideways glance out of place, and she keeps smiling at me, as though to include me in her superficial conversation.
I might even have played along with her game if she’d turned up alone. But she brought Russell. And he’s everything I thought he’d be.
Looks like he’s about to play a game of fucking tennis. He has a white sweater tied over his shoulders, and floppy blond hair that for some reason really irritates me.
“Coffee, Russell.” Charity hands him a cup and he takes it without bothering to look at her.
“How long have you known your new friend, Grace?” He gives her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“A while.” She sounds cool, but I can tell she’s wound up tight inside. I’m tempted to grab her hand and pull her onto my lap, just for the reaction, but if she wanted to touch me she wouldn’t be standing just out of reach.
“Are you from around here, Zach?” He favors me with that shark-like smile, and I have a satisfying vision of filling his mouth with my fist.
I want to give him a smart retort, but there’s only one answer to his question. “No.”
His smile now borders on a smirk. “Not really your scene, is it.”
“Russell.” Grace sounds agonized, but she doesn’t need to be offended on my account.
I give the jerk a slow smile that’s filled with deadly intent. “What scene’s that, Russell?” I use his name deliberately, and it works, if the way he tries to hide his shudder is anything to go by.
I’m in the mood for a fight, and all he needs to do is throw down the challenge. But instead of responding, he turns his attention to Grace. “Are you free tonight? There’re some things I’d like to discuss with you.”
No, she’s not fucking free tonight. I only just manage to keep that thought locked inside my head and forcibly relax my fist. There’s nothing I’d like better than to flatten him, but this is Grace’s world, not mine. And doesn’t that prick know it.
“There’s nothing to discuss. Or are you talking about work related issues?”
The look on Russell’s face is almost as satisfying as a bloodied nose. He obviously didn’t expect her to knock him back like that in front of her mother.
“No, of course I’m not.” There’s a hint of irritation in his voice. “But Grace, we do need to talk.”
“There’ll be plenty of time to talk next week.” Grace’s mom smiles round at everyone as though that’s going to relieve the tension. “You’re still coming to Thanksgiving dinner, aren’t you, Russell?”
It’s a punch to the gut. If there’s one holiday I actively hate, it’s Thanksgiving, and I try and forget about it as much as I can. Except, not only is it next week, but Grace’s ex is going to be there with all of her family, and I don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure out they’re going to try and get the two of them back together.
In my world I’d call him out on it. But things are different here, and while I don’t give a shit about playing by anyone else’s rules, I don’t want to push Grace away.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
