“Didn’t think about it. Next time.” I place a slice on a plate and hand it to Bryce, then serve myself as he pours the soda into two glasses full of ice.
We take the stools at the counter, the moment surprisingly companionable and homey. Over the pizza I can smell Bryce’s mint and woodsy scent. This hasn’t changed either in all the years since our time in college. Every cell in my body seems to relax. Sex was great back then, but I also missed peaceful time like this, when we could just be easy with each other and enjoy something as mundane as pizza and soda.
I take a small bite, then stop as something not so pleasant pops into my head. I hesitate for a second, but decide honesty is the best policy. “I forgot to tell you earlier, but Harvey approached me after you left.”
“What?” Bryce stiffens, his eyes roaming over me for signs of injury. “Are you okay?”
I nod, my heart warming at his protectiveness. “He didn’t hit me or anything like that. Much more civilized than your mother, actually. He said he’s the one who lent the money to Aaron, and I don’t need to pay it back because it’s a ‘wedding gift.’”
Bryce turns livid, the muscles in his jaw working. “Son of a bitch. Then what happened? What did you tell him?” he asks urgently.
“I told him no. He’s going to try to get something out of me. He even said I could give him something reciprocal. There’s no way I’m owing him anything worth two million, no matter what.”
“Good girl.” Bryce relaxes a little, then frowns. “I’ll take care of this. And the next time you see him—if there’s a next time—call 911 and report him for harassment. That’s the least he deserves.”
Chapter Thirty
Fiona
The single slice of pizza I nibbled on sits like a congealed lump of cheese and dough in my belly. Bryce, on the other hand, seems completely relaxed despite having eaten half the pizza.
“Is your stomach feeling okay?” I step out of the black Maybach he chose to take us to the dinner and lay my hand in his.
“Yeah. Why?” He peers at me. “Is everything okay?”
“I guess.” It’s probably just my anxiety. Bryce told me about the people I’m going to meet during the drive, but instead of soothing my apprehension, it only made my stomach churn worse.
How much do they know about our past, or the situation with Zoe? Everything? Nothing? I should ask, but every time I open my mouth, the words get caught in my throat. They probably won’t like me or approve of our marriage…assuming they don’t hate my guts already.
Bryce’s parents’ home is large and has an opulence that saysmoneywithout appearing vulgar or overly materialistic. Next to the circular driveway in front of the main entrance is a small parking section for staff and visitors. A silver Maserati and a black Cullinan occupy two spaces. Although there are two more empty spots next to the cars, a red Lamborghini is parked sideways, blocking both.
“Yes!” Bryce says with a smallfist pump.
I look at him. “What?”
“Aunt Jeremiah’s already here. Which means we’re free to leave whenever.” He points to the Lamborghini. “That’s her car, and she always parks like an asshole. Although if you tell her I said that, I’ll deny it to my last dying breath.”
I make a zipping motion across my mouth.
He grins, puts a hand at my back and escorts me inside through towering double doors. A massive tapestry hangs from the ceiling in the spacious foyer. Against the dark navy background, silver wolves snarl around a shield. Underneath are block letters.
“Pietas et unitas,” I murmur.
“Loyalty and unity. The family motto,” Bryce explains. “We live by it, we die by it. Family is everything.”
“It was also on the cane in your house.”
He nods. “It’s custom made. Every Huxley gets one when they’re born. A kind of welcome-to-the-family gift.”
I take a moment to look at the coat of arms. If I were truly a Huxley by marriage, seeing PIETAS ET UNITAS would make my heart brim with joy. A painful sense of loss slips below my breastbone until it hurts to breathe. I can never have what the motto promises. I’m not worthy of it.
The wide hall that connects the foyer to the dining room has several windows facing a garden on one side, and displays of earthenware on the other. Each holds an intricate flower arrangement done in a style I’ve never seen before. The complete opposite of Sherry’s preference of placing as many flowers as possible, the ones here have only a few flowers arranged in interesting lines and shapes. But they command a kind of focused attention that Sherry’s don’t.
The more steps I take, the more my gut twists. Foreboding grows until I feel like I’m about to hyperventilate and faint.Oh my God, don’t faint!Talk about making a spectacle of myself.
It’s just one meal. I can take a few bites and smile and praise the delicious food. That should hopefully make Bryce’s stepmom not hate me too much. As for his dad… I’m not sure. He’s a lawyer. So is his aunt. Everyone at Harvard has heard about the Huxleys for having been some of the most outstanding alumni. There’s even a scholarship in their name for promising prelaw and law students.
Cold sweat slickens my back as Bryce and I reach the long table where seven people are already seated. I recognize Ares, and Josh of course, both of whom are in three-piece suits and regard me like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of their priceless, hand-stitched Italian leather shoes.
