And so it began.
By the time we’d settled at the dining table with coffee and the delivered pastries (which my mother declared “acceptable but nothing special”), I was already exhausted.
“So,” my father said, stirring his coffee, “tell us about the Kussikov-Martin wedding. How did you secure such high-profile clients?”
I made a mental note to find a dentist in the city as I ground my teeth together.
“They approached me, actually.”
“Don’t tell me it was because of that dreadful video.” My mother wrinkled her nose.
“It was, actually. They did their research when they hired my partner and me.”
“Partner?” My mother’s head snapped up. “You’ve taken on a business partner? Why didn’t you inform us?”
“Not a business partner. A project partner. We’re planning the wedding together.”
“That seems inefficient,” my father observed. “Too many cooks, as they say.”
“It’s working well, actually.” I took a sip of coffee, buying time. “We complement each other’s strengths.”
“Hmm. And this partner is the woman you were with last night? Your dinner... date?”
The way she said “date” made it sound like a questionable life choice, right up there with recreational drug use or joining a cult.
“Yes. She’s an excellent wedding planner. She worked with Anica Burkhardt at Knot Your Average Wedding in New York before moving to Chicago to expand their business,” I said, knowing it wouldn’t impress them. Knot Your Average Wedding was successful but too trendy, too modern for my parents’ tastes.
“Ah.” My father exchanged a glance with my mother. “One of those social media planners.”
I bristled at the dismissal. “Mari is a professional with a unique creative vision. The clients love her.”
“Wait, Mari? As in Mari Landry? Isn’t that the name of that awful woman from the video?” My mother frowned at me.
Yup. I definitely needed to find a dentist. There were likely going to be casualties as I clenched my jaw hard enough to hurt. “She’s not awful.”
“Really? She nearly ruined your reputation.”
“It was a misunderstanding,” I ground out.
“A misunderstanding that went viral,” my mother continued, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “Really, Hudson, we taught you better than this. Associating with someone so...unprofessional.”
I stared into my coffee cup, remembering how Mari had looked last night after the second time, when she’d told me about her dreams for her business and her app. The passion in her eyes, the way her hands moved as she spoke.
“And now you’re planning a high-profile wedding with her?” My father shook his head. “It’s concerning. Especially with the Modern Wedding feature coming up.”
My stomach clenched. “The clients are happy. That’s what matters.” My tone came off flat, and I glared at the opposite wall.
“What matters is maintaining the Gable reputation,” my mother corrected.
I gave up trying to defend Mari or myself. What was the point? They’d already made up their minds. Instead, I tried to block them out, nodding at appropriate intervals while my thoughts drifted to last night.
Mari’s laughter as we shared dinner. The way she’d looked at me over her wineglass. How perfectly she fit against me when we’d kissed. The flushed look on her face as she came over and over again.
“Hudson? Are you even listening?” My mother’s sharp tone cut through my thoughts.
“Sorry. Didn’t sleep much last night.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
My mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Clearly. Your apartment’s a mess, you look disheveled, and you’re distracted. This isn’t like you, Hudson.”
