Well, she tried.
"Everyone, this is Bennett Reilly. Ben, this is my family—my parents, David and Jenny Bateman, my sister Celia, and her fiancé, Trevor.”
Yeah, they don’t want me here at all. In fact, I think they don’t want Kelly here either. What a clusterfuck.
Luckily, he wasn’t easily intimidated. His father and uncles had taught Ben to be confident, stand toe-to-toe with someone, and never let them see you sweat.
Ben stepped forward with smooth confidence, extending his hand first to the father.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Kelly has told me so much about you."
And you don’t know if it’s good or bad.
David Bateman took Ben's hand, his grip visibly firm as he assessed the younger man. Ben recognized the tactic. Fathers weren’t always the biggest fans of men who they thought might be having sex with their little girls. He’d been here before with far more menacing men.
It was the handshake test, where Dad judged a man's character by how he responded to an overly aggressive grip. Ben didn't flinch or wince; instead, he maintained steady eye contact, his own handshake equally firm but not competitive. The two men sized each other up in that brief moment, an entire conversation happening without words.
Something shifted in David’s gaze, but it happened so quickly Ben couldn’t tell if it was positive or negative.
"Ben," her father acknowledged finally, releasing his hand. "What is it that you do?"
Ben heard a soft sigh from Kelly. She’d warned him, and he was ready with his answers.
"Dad, can we at least get in the door first?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light.
"Of course, of course," her mother interjected with a tinkling laugh that didn’t sound genuine. "Where are our manners? Come inside, both of you. I have refreshments ready."
The Bateman family home was exactly as Kelly had described it. Every surface gleamed, every pillow was perfectly plumped, every picture frame aligned with mathematical precision. The living room could have been photographed for Better Homes and Gardens at a moment's notice, with not a speck of dust or a single item out of place.
His mother had liked the house to be clean, too, but she’d been a bit more relaxed about it. Two working parents, three kids, two dogs, two cats, and a guinea pig named Nibbles did not add up to perfection in any way, shape, or form.
"Please, sit," Jenny directed, gesturing to the pristine cream-colored sofa. "I'll get the refreshments."
Ben was almost afraid to sit down. Why did he get the feeling that this sofa normally had a plastic slipcover on it?
Stop it. I’m being a sarcastic asshole.
Ben sat beside Kelly, close enough to provide moral support but not so close as to appear inappropriate. Celia and Trevor took the loveseat across from them, while David settled into his leather armchair, positioned perfectly to observe everyone in the room.
"So, Celia," Kelly began, attempting to direct the conversation, "how are the final wedding preparations going?"
Her sister launched into an enthusiastic description of flower arrangements and last-minute details, but he could easily feel the weight of David’s stare. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Ben since they'd entered the house.
Hopefully, it meant that they’d focus their attention on him instead of Kelly.
Her mother returned with a tray bearing a crystal pitcher of iced tea, pristine glasses, and a plate of cookies arranged in a neat circle.
"Here we are," she announced, setting the tray on the coffee table with practiced grace. "Lemon cookies, Kelly. They're your favorite."
Next to him, Kelly stiffened momentarily, but her expression betrayed nothing.
Note to self. Ask Kelly about this later.
"Thanks, Mom. That’s lovely. Everything you bake is always delicious."
"So, Ben," her father began, leaning forward slightly, "Kelly hasn't told us much about you or anything at all, really. What line of work are you in?"
Here we go.
