THEN | JAX
Yeah, I could’ve asked my mom point-blank. But this? This is way better. Two birds. One Sisk.
I made sure to tell Ronny to stay inside, which was a damn good call, because the second she steps out of her building, every thought in my head just screeches to a halt.
It’s not some crazy fancy dress. I can tell. But on her? Wow. It’s black, tight in all the right places, and definitely a little too short for what my mother would call “respectable.” Her legs… fuck. Her legs. I’ve never seen her in anything like this. I realize I’m staring like a damn fool.
She gives me a look. “Really?”
I raise both hands in surrender. “Hey, if I’m guilty of anything, it’s having eyes.” I open the car door for her.
She rolls her eyes as she slides in. I shut the door behind her and circle around slowly, trying to get my damn heartbeat under control. Dinner’s going to be absolute hell. But right now? Worth every second.
I’m still thinking about the way the dress dipped low on her back when she turned when she suddenly says, “I can’t believe I agreed to this.”
“They don’t bite.”
She scoffs. “You think I’m afraid of your parents?”
“I mean…”
“Please.” She snaps her seatbelt harshly. “I’m not scared of them. I’m scared of myself—sitting across some fancy candlelit table trying not to embarrass the shit out of myself while your mom serves dinner with tweezers.”
I laugh. “It’s not that serious. It’s just dinner.”
“With your family, Jax. That’s not dinner. That’s an event. There are probably courses.”
“There might be one or two?—”
“Pitfire!”
I glance over at her, trying not to grin. “What, you think they’re gonna quiz you on which fork to use?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time a rich person made me feel like I don’t belong just by existing.”
“My parents are lucky to have you as their guest.”
She stares out the window, arms crossed, lips pressed tight in a line.
“I asked you because I wanted you there,” I explain. “Not because I want to show you off. Not because of the thing I need you to ask. I mean—yes, that too. But mostly…”
She doesn’t look at me, just keeps staring out the window. “This isn’t an intro-to-the-parents dinner, Jax. This is… I don’t know. A business transaction.”
I can’t help it. I grin. “Oh really? Business?” I glance over at her. “So what’s the price of your time? And what am I getting out of this deal?”
She finally turns to me. “You’re getting information. I’m just hoping I don’t get indigestion.”
“Indigestion is a small price to pay for access to the St. Clair vault of secrets,” I shoot back. “And you’re getting to see me in my natural habitat. That’s worth something, right?”
“Your natural habitat is a graffiti-covered brick wall and a can of spray paint,” she says, but the cocky grin is still there. “This is a performance. You’re performing ‘good son’ and I’m performing ‘girlfriend who can use a fork.’”
“Hey, you can use a fork, I’ve seen you.”
She shifts in her seat, pulling the hem of her dress down a little, pointlessly. “Not eat french fries with a fork expert, though,” she says as she side-eyes me. “Some of us weren’t raised in a fancy restaurant, Jax. I actually use my fingers for food.”
I chuckle. “Fair enough.”
“Just… don’t leave me alone with your mom.”
