They smile and nod, dismissing themselves as they sashay away toward the dance floor.
Maria leads me to the next name on the list of important guests, and then the next … and next … and next, until my face hurts from smiling and my soul cries from fake excitement and joy, the kind only people in any service industry can truly understand.
After being paraded through the grand foyer, the overlook, the gardens, and the bar, we end in a small side room, where the guests are entering from.
Only a couple of people are inside, getting their coats or belongings checked in by the staff. And collecting a mask if they forgot one of their own.
“You’re dismissed for now,” Maria says. “Dinner at nine o’clock. Group photos at ten o’clock.” Her eyes flick up to mine. “You and Asher arebothneeded for that. And at eleven fifty-five, everyone will be gathering for fireworks. The party will fade from the gardens after midnight. You guys will be thanking guests until everyone’s left, and then the night will officially be over. Then we’ll meet tomorrow to debrief.”
“Got it,” I respond, emotionless—because that’s exactly how I feel after all of that parading, like an empty shell no longer in control. They might as well tie strings to my arms and legs.
She types rapidly in her phone. “I texted it to you too. Don’t be late.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I salute her, standing tall.
She holds my stare for a moment, trying to decipher if I was being sarcastic. Honestly, I’m not sure either.
But she gives up, spins on her heel, and strides away, onto her next mission.
The mood instantly worsens when I see my father breach the entryway of the room, heading straight toward me with a stone face.
“I guess I have to find a new hiding spot.” I sigh, leaning backward against the wall right behind me.
A ghost of a smile skirts across his lips. “If you weren’t hiding, you wouldn’t need to be found.” He pauses. “Well done. Everyone loves you.”
“It’s hard not to,” I retort. “What do you need?”
“I can’t just come see my son?” he asks, and I stay silent, waiting for him to own up to what he really needs or give a better excuse. “All right, fine. Can you keep an eye on Asher tonight? He already seems like he’s up to no good with your friends. And take the champagne away from him.”
“He’ll behave. He doesn’t need a babysitter,” I argue, knowing Ash will do what’s needed, like we always do. “Cut him some slack.”
He glares at me. “You and I both know he has a hard time handling his emotions, especially at important events.”
I know exactly which time he’s referring to—my mom’s funeral, when Asher stormed out—and it makes my blood boil that he would dare mention my mother in any capacity atthisevent.
“He’s volatile. Keep him in line,” he orders unwaveringly, and I scoff. “You have an attitude tonight. Fix it.Now.”
I’m the one who keeps everything locked in and everyone else under control. I’m the calculated one who doesn’t say a word that isn’t thought out through to the very end.
But hearing him speak of Ash and mention my mom during a night like tonight breaks something deep inside of me.
How can he not see how far he’s fallen from the man we’ve always known?
“I’m sorry, Father, that we can’t all be sograciouswhen it comes to losing her. Some of usactuallymiss her … so much that it has to physically come out or we’ll explode.” My voice is rising, teeth bared, pulling the attention of a few guests, but for once, I don’t care.
“Dean,” he warns me, his eyes darting to the guests in the room.
But I continue, my anger growing and bubbling out of me., “I mean, it’s only been a fewmonthssince we buried her. God forbid a son struggle after losing his mom. Or ahusbandeven care enough to grieve hisdead wife.”
His hand collides with my face, and my cheek stings, burning a thousand degrees.
A few gasps sound around us, and when I turn my head back to face my father, I find his eyes wide with shock, his mouth agape.
He’s never laid a hand on me or Ash, notonce.
A chuckle that turns to a cold, sick laugh jostles out of me, deep from within. It’s suddenly apparent that Asher wasn’t who he had to worry about tonight at all.
It was me.
