“We women are required to waste hours waxing, plastering on makeup, and dressing to the nines for people who will only take two minutes to change their underwear.”
She motioned for me to shut up as she rang the doorbell.
“No, seriously. Do you think he spent all day thinking about what tie to wear to impress you?”
“What are you talking about? There’s no need to . . .Shh!” she scolded me as Jordan opened the door.
I heard my mom’s heart drop to her feet.
“Jordan.” Her voice was so shrill that I almost laughed, but I held back.
I gave him the once-over. Okay, he was good looking. Since when could forty-somethings be that attractive? I studied his expensive suit and snow-white shirt that hung perfectly on his broad chest.
“Hi, April, looking lovely as always,” the man said in a strong London accent.
We were done for.
He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, then turned to me. “Hi, June. I’m happy you came.”
“You know how it goes. She put a gun to my head. I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“June!” exclaimed my mom, her face beet red.
“I’m kidding, obviously.” I giggled.
“Your daughter’s nice,” he murmured, smiling at her before bringing us to the dining room.
“This is my son Jasper.”
A blond eleven- or twelve-year-old boy sat at a set table. He looked at us without saying a word and didn’t even answer us when we said hi.
For a brief moment, Jordan seemed uncomfortable, but he diffused the situation by sitting us at the table.
“Ready for dinner?”
The evening started off with the usual stilted banter.Did you cook? Oh no, I got it catered. You shouldn’t’ve told me! You know how much I love a man who can cook.I rolled my eyes.
By all means, act like I’m not even here, I thought, irked.
I bit into my steak and watched the kid at the other side of the table. Blond curls fell into a pair of vacant eyes. There was something familiar about them. I looked from his nose to Jordan’s. They both had a perfect profile, and that disturbed me.
Something about Jasper bothered me even though he hadn’t even opened his mouth. I looked around, bored. I hadn’t realized how magnificent the house was when we’d arrived.
Christ almighty, they were filthy rich.
A cough interrupted my thoughts. Mom narrowed her eyes and pointed at the kid, inviting me to strike up a conversation with him. I said the first thing that came to my head.
“How’s school?”
He looked at me without answering. He kept staring at me even when he took a sip of his water.
“Jasper, what classes are you taking?” interjected my mom, as if I hadn’t already tried to get him to talk.
He didn’t budge.
Jordan, who didn’t seem particularly capable of handling the situation, served us a second helping of mashed potatoes.
“Jordan, you told me you also have a son who’s a year older than June.”
