Good wife? Good Lord. Translation; slave to my whim. “I work three jobs because I chose to, Richard. Lance doesn’t tell me what to do.”
“A Pity,” her mother murmured. “Why just look at your hands, your nails are in need of a decent manicure. I do hope you do something about them before the wedding.”
Tammy glared at her. The criticism was easy to hear in her tone. She didn’t agree with her daughter working, but more importantly, she hated the fact that she left this life to be a public servant, so she resorted to the tactic of shaming her instead. Her mother wanted a trophy daughter, obedient and someone she could show off, brag about. Well, that just didn’t work out to well for her, did it? As for her hands, she kept her nails trimmed short to reduce the spread of disease. Long nails harbor microorganisms and she didn’t want to be responsible for making anyone sick. She’d rather become accustomed to the short nails. It was nice not to worry about chipping and keeping them so perfect.
“Your brother and his fiancé are arriving tonight,” Elizabeth said changing the subject. “Then we head for the Hamptons tomorrow morning to do the fine detailing for the wedding. Unfortunately I turned your room into a tea room the day you left us. We have nowhere to put you.”
Of course they did. There were a few guest rooms, but God forbid her mother would offer one of them.
“Well, it seems as if you have a full house here,” Lance said squeezing Tammy’s hand again. “I thought maybe Tammy would like to spend some time with her family, but we can see you are quite busy. She can stay with me.” He gave Vern a speaking glance while continuing to address Tammy’s family. Vern quickly went behind the car and loaded Tammy’s luggage back into the trunk of the limousine.
“We’re having a family dinner tonight and would appreciate your company,” her mother said out of courtesy with her curious eyes on Lance. Then they grazed over her daughter’s attire. “Please wear something more appropriate.”
Tammy knew she didn’t want her there, the poor public servant, bringing the family’s prestige down, but she had to offer. Also, she was certain she was dying to know more about her sudden fiancé. She could have kissed Lance for that save a moment ago, no matter how shocking it was.
“Dear, where is your ring?” her mother stated noticing that her ring finger was empty. Her fine manicured brows arched. “Or is it on a payment plan?”
“Getting cleaned and sized,” Lance responded without hesitation. A small smile of amusement pulled at the corner of his mouth at the insult.
“I see. We’ll see you at supper tonight around seven?” she pretended he didn’t even speak.
“We look forward to it,” Lance answered politely.
There was a brief uncomfortable silence. It was her mother who broke it.
“Well, we have a lot to prepare for tonight. We’ll see you then Tamara, Mr. Hartley. Come on Richard.” With that quick dismissal, her mother went in through the doors of the building with Richard on her heels like a loyal pup. It was interesting that she didn’t demand her father to go to, but he was never one for taking orders from his wife.
Tammy didn’t expect her to have anything to do with them after Lance’s admission of his profession, so it was a surprise that her mother still invited her. Chances were, if Royce found out she wasn’t invited, he’d have been angry with their mother. She was avoiding conflict with the favorite child. She smiled at her father who was still standing there looking at the two of them thoughtfully. He would have also insisted. She was sure of it.
Tammy knew her father was a lot more intuitive than he let on. You could just look at Lance and see that he was not some servant or backwoods hillbilly, but her mother and Richard were cut from the same cloth. They only saw prominence if there were dollar signs waving in front of them. Yes, they got out of a limo, but you could rent one for a decent price. However, Lance’s expensive suit should have tipped them off. Sure, she was only wearing comfortable jeans and a conservative blouse which is what prompted the look of disdain from her mother, but it probably also pulled the focus off of Lance. Furthermore, who says you can’t rent a suit like the one Lance wore too especially if her mother thought he was out to try and impress them to get accepted into the family. Yet, there was the man’s confidence. It radiated off of him like a neon sign, a product of an expensive education and sculptured upbringing. No one could fake that. Finally her father said something that enforced her thoughts about him being intuitive.
“There was a prominent attorney in New York about five or six years ago that made quite a name for himself—Hartley, I believe. Any relation?” George asked.
“The one in the same,” Lance admitted humbly.
“I’ll be damned. Nice to meet you son. Some of your cases are unprecedented.”
George shook Lance’s hand again. Tammy could see there was definite approval in her father’s eyes. Oh, only if he knew the truth. She felt guilty at deceiving him, and him only.
“I’ll look forward to talking to you tonight,” George said genuinely. “Nice to have you home Tammy.”
“Until then,” Lance said.
Once back in the car she released a rush of air.
“Well, a lot of shit makes sense now.” Lance said out of the blue as the car pulled away from the building and turned a corner.
She flushed. She didn’t know what he was specifically referring to, but didn’t want to ask. He’d just thrown himself under the bus for her. “I’m sorry. My mother is a snob.”
“We’ll talk about this when we get to my place.” It was said softly but authoritatively.
There wasn’t any blame in his voice. He was just being the lawyer she knew, planning things out. She nodded and glanced at Vern in the review mirror. He never even looked at either of them. She was embarrassed by her mother’s and Richard’s behavior. She was grateful he was being professional. The whole situation sucked the life out of her. She was still trembling. Meeting with her family and Richard brought back very unpleasant memories. She would have been better off in jail during those years. It would have given her more freedom. She bit her lip and turned her head to look out the side window. She didn’t know what she would have done without Lance there. She felt like a little girl all over again with her mother berating her, telling her she wasn’t good enough and she was going be married to Richard because that’s the way things were.
There was a long pause before he spoke again. “You have a sister too.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement and his eyes sought out hers when he said it.
He obviously reserved his disapproval for when they were alone because he certainly didn’t look too pleased now. Well, he was completely blindsided so she couldn’t blame him.
She blushed and nodded once even though he didn’t ask anything. Melanie was older than her by about eleven months. Royce was five years her senior. She felt terrible knowing that he was thrust into something so unexpected with no background information. He handled it so well, though, that it amazed her. He was calm, collected, and brilliant. “I’msosorry. I feel like an idiot.”
