I open the door hesitantly—I don’t trust Elias not to be naked.
He’s dressed, and sitting on the bed in a nice pair of grey pants, a blue shirt and black socks.Wow, his feet really are big!
“Everything okay?”
He looks at my feet and a smile ghosts his lips.
“You’re wearing tennis shoes?”
I shrug. “Thought we could rock them together.”
Mom’s friends leave just before Dad comes home with a business associate. They’re both dressed in dark suits and carrying briefcases they hand to Anna. She offers them a drink and goes off to fetch their Scotch before Dad even notices me standing there.
His gaze travels over my body before stopping at my feet. I catch the slightest flare of his nostrils before he fixes his face into a calmer expression for his associate.
Mom kisses him on the cheek and introduces Elias as my friend from school.
“Hello, sir,” Elias says, stepping forward and shaking his hand. Dad notices his shoes, too.
I want to explain myself. But that’s the wrong thing to do. Best to not mention it and hope no one brings it up. That’s the way we usually do things in this house.
“Will Madison and Sloane be joining us for dinner?” Dad asks, turning away from me completely.
“No, they were held up.” Mom says. “They won’t be getting in until the day after tomorrow.”
“Shame. I would have liked you to meet my eldest two,” Dad tells the associate.
“Maybe next time.” The associate turns to me. “Ben, I met your business partner, Nathan, sometime last year, I think. He passed my number along I hope?”
I rack my brain for the memory. A name.
“Yes …”
Come on brain, give me a name. M-something. Mathers, Matheson …
“Mr. Mathews, right?”
He smiles. “Please, call me Mason.”
I automatically search Dad’s face for approval, but he isn’t looking at me and he doesn’t appear to be paying attention.
Mom starts grillingElias the second the appetizers are served. He takes it well, his charming, confident demeanor winning Mom over instantly. I keep glancing at Dad to see what he thinks of Elias, but he still isn’t paying attention. Elias is irrelevant to him because he doesn’t have anything of worth to my dad or his business.
As soon as there’s a lull in the conversation, Dad starts talking about Madison and Sloane. I automatically fade into the background, trying to swallow bites of veal with a dry throat.
Elias listens politely, eying the food on his plate with suspicion. I wonder if he thinks rich people eat the placentas of newborn unicorns. That’s how my mom looks ten years younger than she is.
“You’d do well to take a leaf from your brother’s book,” Dad says now.
My head snaps up a second too late. He frowns. “Are you listening, Ben?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sloane’s well on his way to becoming the youngest ever member of the House of Representatives….”
I grit my teeth and nod in all the right places while Dad waxes poetic about Sloane’s many talents.
When Mom cuts in, I think she’s going to remind him of my achievements, but it’s only to remind him that he has a very successful daughter, too.
