I take a sip of my wine—a crisp, sweet Zinfandel Dad pulled out of the cellar while the steaks were resting—and shoot her a sickeningly sweet smile. This time, I hope it looks as fake as it feels.
“How’s work going, sweetie?” Dad asks, his eyebrows pulled together in concentration as he cuts and plates our steak.
“It’s good. All of our projects are actually on schedule.” I shift in my seat, turning my body toward the one person at the table who cares about what I’m saying. “I forgot to tell you, James hired another contractor, so the hotel renovation will be done on time.”
I don’t mention Dominic’s name, since I can’t say it without the knot in my stomach clenching tight, anxious guilt wrapping around my intestines and turning them black. Like the pools of darkness that swallowed me whole when he looked at me.
“James Robinson? I think we know his parents. Isn’t that Rachel and John’s son, Mark?” I bristle at the interruption, but I’m hardly surprised. My mother always finds a way to bring the conversation back around to her.
My dad nods. “Yes, John and I play golf together at the club. James is their oldest son.”
“Interesting. And you’re working with him, Sloane?”
For the first time today, or probably in my whole life, my mother looks interested in what I have to say, and I haven’t the slightest idea why. I clear my throat to hide my annoyance. “James and I have worked on several projects together, Mom.”
“Must have been a relief to have a new contractor come in so quickly.” Dad hands me my plate, which is now almost overflowing with food. He’s even gone to the trouble of dressing my baked potato just the way I like it. I smile over at him and he pinches my cheek, love shining in his eyes.
“Yes, that’s amazing,” Mom drawls, her hazel eyes dancing with excitement that doesn’t make sense to me until she continues. “Sloane, please tell me you’re seeing James outside of work as well. In a morepersonalmanner.”
I nearly choke on my wine. Leave it to her to suggest I sleep with a client based solely on the fact his parents are members of the same country club. It doesn’t help that James was suggesting the same thing just a few hours ago.
“No, Mom. I’m not seeing him in a morepersonalmanner. James is just a client.”
She takes a dainty bite of her steak. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous! The Robinsons are a very powerful family, and as the oldest son, James stands to inherit John’s CEO title when he retires in a few years. You would be a fool not to align yourself with someone like him.”
So that’s why she’s so interested in this conversation.
I set my fork down and level her with a glare. “My relationship with James is, and will continue to be, strictly professional. Why can’t you just be proud of your daughter for being a talented designer who’s known for her ability and professionalism?”
“Professionalism won’t get you a husband, dear. And neither will shouting at the dinner table.”
My mouth drops open.Did she seriously just say that to me?I look over to my dad for backup, but he’s just sitting there looking disappointed that his relaxing evening with his girls is about to turn into a WWE smackdown.
I stand up from my seat, nearly knocking over my chair with the abrupt movement. My hands are balled into fists at my side, but I manageto speak evenly. “I had a husband, Mother, or did you forget attending your son-in-law’s funeral? Maybe it’s all a blur for you, lost in a sea of the pointless dinners and charity events you use to fill up your empty life?”
“Sloane.” My dad places a hand on my arm, silently asking me to back down. As always, he’s focusing on the wrong person. I didn’t start this fight, and I won’t apologize for participating in it.
My mother looks up at me, taking in the anger that’s flowing off of me with sick pleasure. She lifts her wineglass to her mouth and takes a long, victorious sip before addressing me. “I remember Eric’s funeral well. I’ll never forget the spectacle you made of yourself, shouting and crying at the top of your lungs like the world had ended—embarrassing everyone there. I also remember that it wasfour yearsago, which means you’ve had more than enough time to put away your pity party decorations and move on with your life. Hopefully this time, you’ll choose someone in your league.”
Several emotions run through me at once. Shock. Anger. Frustration. Hurt. They all swirl around inside of me, taking ahold of the knot already there, as I stare at her. Waiting for something, anything, to happen. I know she won’t take it back. She never apologizes, because she never says anything she doesn’t mean. And somehow, knowing shereallybelieves all of the things she just said to her own daughter makes it so much worse. The world seems to stop as we stare at each other—even the cicadas have stopped singing—and I don’t know how much time goes by before my dad breaks the silence.
“Lauren.” He rubs at his forehead roughly, his shoulders drooping in defeat. “You need to apologize.Right now.”
Her head snaps back as if he struck her, but her lips remain pressed together in a tight line. She’s not going to take it back. Angry tears spring in my eyes, and I swear hers gleam with a renewed sense of triumph. Destroying someone in a verbal sparring match is one of her favoritethings to do; it doesn’t matter if the person she’s cutting with her words is her flesh and blood. Before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m moving. My legs carry me around the table, past my dad’s shocked face, into the house to grab my keys and purse, and then out of the front door to my car.
The whole time, tears are flowing freely down my face, and they don’t stop until I pull into my driveway and find Dominic Alexander sitting on my front steps.
Chapter 10
Dominic
Now
Insanity. Pure insanity. That’s the only thing that can explain why I dropped every single one of my plans for tonight to show up at Sloane’s house without an invitation or the slightest clue how to keep her from thinking someone died, because the last time I came to her house alone was four years ago when it was Eric, and both of our worlds were split open.
Most of that day is still a blur for me, but the shit I do remember still fucks with my head.Driving to a job site and coming across a crash that had traffic backed up to hell. Texting Eric to tell him he should take a different route, so one of us could get there on time. Finally moving around the wreckage, seeing the Archway Construction logo on a crumpled door and knowing…The rest is just blank until I saw her face.
“Dominic, what are you doing here?”
