They’re both as bad as one another and deserve to be miserable together.
“Keep your eyes on Stevie’s face,” Garrick barks, leaning across me to glower at Winston. “Or I’ll fucking make you.”
“Garrick!” Ivy feigns shock, placing her hand over her mouth. “Apologize right now.”
Garrick throws his napkin down. “I’ll apologize when he apologizes for leering at my girlfriend all through dinner.” He stands just as the servers come into the room with dessert. “And after you apologize for your rude treatment of Stevie.”
“This is supposed to a be a celebration,” the governor says, projecting his voice around the room as he intervenes for the first time. “Everyone, just sit down and let bygones be bygones.”
Fucking typical politician. I wonder would he be so dismissive if it was his daughter subjected to Ivy’s verbal abuse?
Tugging on Garrick’s leg, I implore him to sit with my eyes. “It’s nearly over,” I mouth as the servers set dessert down in the middle of the table. “We’ll eat dessert, then make excuses and leave.”
Reluctantly, Garrick reclaims his seat. “I’m so sorry, Stevie,” he whispers in my ear. “We should never have come.”
“We’ll discuss it later,” I whisper back, noticing the fresh frown crawling over his face.
“Where is Stevie’s cake?” Garrick asks.
The servers are busy distributing crème brûlée and baked Alaska, but there is no sign of the cake I baked.
“In the trash,” Ivy says, fighting a smug smile. “You can blame Winston for infecting it with his germs.”
The cake was still edible. Just scrape off the top layer, cut it into slices, and it would have been fine. There was no need to toss the entire thing. It was pure maliciousness, and I’ve reached my breaking point. Swallowing painfully over the lump in the back of my throat, I force tears to retreat from the backs of my eyes. I will not let this bitch get to me, any more than she has, and I’m not staying here a second longer.
“I’m done,” I say, standing and throwing my napkin on the table.
“Be a dear and fill me up before you leave.” Ivy holds out her wineglass. “At least that should make you feel at home.” An evil grin spreads over her mouth. “Maybe we should have had you serving us through dinner and show my son, once and for all, that you don’t fit in his world.”
Snatching the red wine bottle up, I walk quickly along the table, heading toward the bitch. She’s so arrogant she actually believes I’m going to top off her glass.
What a dumb cunt.
Her strangled shriek as I empty the bottle of wine all over her hair, face, and expensive in-season ballgown is music to my ears. Winston’s loud laughter bounces off the walls of the otherwise eerily quiet dining room.
I think I’ve managed to shock everyone else into silence.
ChapterThirty
Stevie
The silence is shattered when Ivy emits a rage-fueled roar and lunges for me.
“Shit!” Garrick yanks me back before his mother reaches me, prying the wine bottle from my tight fingers.
“You stupid classless whore!” Ivy screams, wiping wine from her eyes before she lunges at me again. She wobbles on her heels and reaches out to clutch the edge of the table before she falls. I watched her push food around her plate while drinking glass after glass of wine and champagne, and it’s quite possible she’s very drunk.
“Enough!” Garrick bellows, stepping in front of me and partially shielding me with his body. “You deserve that and more.” He jabs his finger in his mother’s direction. “Just remember I gave you a chance to prove you could be a normal human. A normal mother. But you couldn’t even attempt to try for my sake. You orchestrated this to humiliate Stevie, and I’ll never forgive you for it. Never.”
The governor and his wife stand on either side of Ivy, trying to keep a straight face, while Winston is slouched in his chair, eyeing proceedings with drunken amusement. I briefly wonder if their relationship will survive this dinner. Randall and Pepper are standing in the corner by the wall, attempting to smother their laughter.
At least I provided the entertainment.
Let’s call it my legacy.
“She’s not right for you!” Ivy screeches, sounding like a banshee as she plucks strands of wet hair off her face. “She’s beneath you, and she’s only after you for your money! Everyone can see it but you. She’s a gold-digging harlot, and I’m not going to sit back and let her trick or trap you into marriage! This dinner was for you! It was about opening your eyes to the truth.”
“The truth?!” Garrick yells, and I cling to his arm, offering silent support. “The truth is, you’re a snob who cares more about appearances and social progression than her own son. If you took the time to get to know Stevie, you would realize how wrong you are, but you made your mind up from day one. You want the truth, Mother?” He leans toward her, shielding nothing from his face as he says, “I love Stevie!” He moves me under his arm, tucking me into his side. “I. Love. Her,” he shouts. “She’s the only one for me. Someday, soon if I have my way, Stevie will be my wife.”
