Betsy gave Franklin a small nod and then turned to her. “No, Faithy.”
“What?”Faith had to have misheard her. Even Franklin looked surprised at her mother’s firm tone.
“I said no to the corporate apartment. Those are for Fox Industries employees, and you are not, as you know.”
The ambient restaurant noises faded to the background as Faith’s vision turned hazy. She’d swallowed her pride and come crawling to her parents after all these years, and now they were refusing a favor that would cost themnothing?
“Unbelievable,” she hissed. “You’re seriously saying no to this one little thing because I didn’t join the family insurance juggernaut?”
“Everyone stay polite!” Betsy singsonged through a tight smile. “People are staring.”
Faith didn’t have to glance around to know that was true. A scene at the country club would be conversation for the rest of the year.
“What wewilldo,” her mother continued in an aggressively calm voice, “is let you move back home.”
“Move home,” she repeated faintly. “With you.”
Her mother lifted a thick cloth napkin to her lips and give her flawless nude lipstick a gentle pat. “It’s the perfect solution.”
Faith collapsed into her seat like a puppet with cut strings while Franklin absorbed the news immediately.
“What an excellent idea! So that’s settled.” He beamed at his wife and then tucked back into the slab of meat on his plate.
Faith’s brain churned as Betsy turned her attention to her own meal.
“But I…” She struggled to come up with an objection to this lifeline. A lifeline that might end up strangling her, sure, but a lifeline nevertheless.
“You can move in anytime and stay as long as you like,” her mother said. “We haven’t changed a thing in your bedroom.”
Her bedroom. That nightmare of princess pink, waiting to swaddle her in its eyelets and ruffles and never let her go.
Ignoring every rule of dining etiquette, Faith leaned her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands. She was genuinely screwed in the housing department unless she wanted to move into that studio with the creepy super who’d been a little too excited about having his own key to her place. At least she had the perfect grant to apply for. Her program was likely the kind of community-development project they were looking for, and it was the only thing keeping her moving forward these days. The grant would save BUILD.
Still, to move in with her parents at twenty-nine, when she’d kept them at a frostily polite distance for the past decade? Her stomach lurched at the humiliation, but what choice did she have?
Her father barked out, “Oh, for God’s sake, Faith, it won’t be forever. And we’ll be traveling quite a bit for the next few months, so that’s even less time that you’ll have to endure us.”
His brusque voice indicated he considered this a done deal, and to Faith’s horror, she realized he was probably right. What other choice did she have? Her bank account was empty, the school year was imminent, and her new landlord was practically putting drop cloths down around her furniture.
Faith gave a strangled scream the likes of which had likely never graced the walls of this stately dining establishment, then pulled herself together just as quickly. “Thank you so much. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as BUILD is secure again.” She stabbed a lettuce leaf, grumbling, “Just don’t expect me to join you for family dinners.”
“Certainly not. I’m not Emily Gilmore,” Betsy agreed. At Faith’s astounded expression, she raised one thin blond eyebrow. “What, you think I haven’t seenGilmore Girls? Oh, Faith, we have so much to catch up on!”
Her mother raised her wineglass in a salute, clearly delighted at the thought of having her daughter back under her thumb, and Faith’s anemic chuckle in reply was interrupted by the tiny pop of the button on her skirt, choosing that moment to exit the conversation by exploding off the waistband.
TWO
Leo Morales spooned ice cream into his mouth and tried to forget all about this shit show of a night.
The fight over the blazer. The awkward dinner with his new bosses. And Faith Fox.
Faith fucking Fox.
He dropped the plastic spoon into the bowl. His sundae was good, but it wasn’tthatgood.
Faith fucking Fox in her country-club suit with her country-club family watching him have a humiliating fight over that country-club blazer. And he’d almost kissed her.
Worse, he was eating his ice cream in the one place that made it impossible to stop thinking about her. The picnic table behind the Dairy Bar had been their spot. They’d spent countless summer afternoons sprawled across the sun-warmed wood, making out and dreaming up lazy, wildly improbable plans about their future.
