by Scott, Kylie
“No.”
“Phew.”
Princess’s tail keeps on flicking.
“Hello, Princess,” I say.
The cat hisses at me. Then she makes a run for one of the sofas, diving underneath. Only her twitching tail remains in view, sweeping back and forth. We had a dog when we were growing up, but I’ve never actually owned a cat before. This should be interesting.
“I think that means she likes you,” says Beck.
“Should we try giving her a bowl of cream or milk?”
“I’m sure she’d appreciate either. Mrs. Francis is sorting out her litter and food. How was your day?”
“It was a day.”
“Yeah?”
I head into the kitchen, putting out a small bowl and grabbing the cream out of the fridge. Once done, I place my small offering near the chair she’s hiding beneath. A cute little black nose sniffs at the air, then a black paw reaches out, dragging the bowl of cream back toward her safe space. Praise be. My humble offering has been accepted.
I wrap my arms around Beck’s waist, going in for some necessary cuddling. “I got a start on the latest website and also did a bit of research into some local charities. Then I chose about a billion household items. Thanks for letting me know that was happening.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Forgot Rachel texted me about that.”
“Mom arrived and is currently upstairs having a nap. She’s not happy, but hopefully I’ll be able to talk her around. And I might have exchanged words with Selah.”
“Selah was here?” He frowns.
“Yeah. I think she was hoping to talk to you. Not to be harsh, but she needs to be banned from the house. Wait. Let me rephrase that because I’m done with being nice. Nice is nothing more than a bullshit veneer that hides true meanings. Because every time I think we can get along, she proves me wrong.”
He rests his chin on top of my head. “This is your home, dearest, and I want you to be comfortable. I’ll let Rachel know that’s the rule from now on. She can tell Selah.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course. You don’t mind me bringing home a pet?”
Princess takes the opportunity to dash from underneath one sofa to another. Tail still twitching all the while. Guess she’s finished with the cream.
“No, of course not. It’s your home too.” I smile. “And she’s cute in an I’ll eat your soul kind of way.”
“She is, isn’t she? Scratched the absolute shit out of the vet.”
“Aw. Our sweet little diabolical fur baby.”
He gives me a squeeze. “So the thing is, I had been hoping to take you on a date tonight to the Downtown Grill. Would you prefer I cancel that booking or ask for a larger table? I’ve given Mrs. Francis has the night off, but we can always order in from somewhere.”
“I think ordering in might be safest.”
“Done.” He pulls his cell out of his back jeans pocket. “What are you in the mood for?”
“Mom likes sushi.”
“Sounds good.”
“How was your day?”
He grins. “The sale is going ahead; they accepted my offer.”
“That’s great news. Congratulations!”
He covers my face in kisses, making me laugh. “Thank you.”
Mom clears her throat, standing over by the foot of the stairs. Mood officially killed. “You must be Beck,” she says.
“Hello, Mrs. Lawrence.” He walks toward her, hand outstretched. “How was your flight?”
“Call me Heather.” Mom shakes his hand, giving him a still sort of smile. “Fine, thank you.”
And then they both just look at me. I have a really bad feeling about this.
“Do you have to travel much for your work, Beck?” asks Mom.
We’re drinking beers and making our way through a platter full of sushi at the dining table. Princess is hiding under an ottoman, giving us all the evil eye. Though she did come out to eat some cat treats earlier.
“I’m primarily based in Denver, but travel occasionally,” answers Beck. “My mother is in New York and I fly out to visit her every couple of months, usually. I also have family in Denmark I try to visit at least once a year.”
“Are your businesses only in Denver?”
“No.” He dips a Philly Roll in some soy sauce. “I have interests in other cities as well.”
“Such as?”
I shoot Mom a look that she chooses to ignore. What a surprise. Not. This is not table conversation. It’s a goddamn inquisition.
“New York, Chicago, Phoenix, and LA,” answers Beck.
“Will you expect Alice to travel with you?” Mom picks up another California Roll, placing it on her plate before carefully loading it up with pickled ginger. When Beck offered to open a bottle of wine, she asked for a beer instead. Which is such bullshit. At home she drinks Prosecco. This hyper-paranoid negative version of my mother is doing my head in and then some. She gives me a sad smile. “How are you going to be able to get a job, honey? Or are you planning on being a kept woman?”
“I actually already have a job,” I say, voice getting cranky. “Two, in fact. I produce content for business websites, which puts my degree to use, and I’m also the director of philanthropy for Beck’s company. It’s a new endeavor he’s taking on that I’ll be heading up. When we travel, I can work on my laptop.”
Beck raises a brow. So I hadn’t told him about accepting the job. Oops.
“You’re giving her a job?” asks mom.
“She earned it,” corrects Beck. “Alice represented my family’s company at a charity luncheon recently and navigated what could have possibly been a very difficult situation with great skill. She’s good with people and they in turn enjoy talking to her. You should be proud of your daughter.”
“Of course I am. But is it wise to work together?”
I shrug. “I don’t see why not. Beck usually works at his offices at the Heritage or out on site and I’ll be working from home. If we travel, I can work from wherever we are on my laptop.”
“Surely you want to stand on your own two feet, Alice.”
“In this economy?” I raise my brows. “I tried that already, Mom, it involved serving beer to jerks and being hit on.”
“But you didn’t try very hard. You could have moved back home and taken a serious look at internships—”
“You’re right, I could have. I got discouraged and gave up.” It’s the truth. “That’s on me. But now these wonderful opportunities have come my way and I’d be a fool not to take them.”
“What if it doesn’t work out between you two?”
“Then I return to LA and start over. With a better-looking résumé than when I left.” I reach for a Shrimp Tempura Roll with my chopsticks.
Mom makes a noise. “Have a Tuna Roll, honey.”
“I prefer these.” Instead of just one I take two of the Shrimp Tempura Rolls. I’m mature like that.
Beck stares at his plate, one clenched fist resting on the table. Some bad vibes going on there. I don’t think Mom’s question about it not working out went down very well with him.
When Mom’s frown fails to move me, she moves on to another topic. “Amy found a lot of photographs and nonsense written about you on the internet.”
“Tell her to ignore it. I do.”
“She’s concerned.”
“She has a baby and my brother to worry about. I’m sure my sister-in-law will get over it.” I take a sip of beer. “How are your classes this year?”
“Oh, fine.” Mom waves the question away. “Your typical teenage students. I can’t wait to retire and be done with it all.”
“I thought you loved teaching.”
“I did. I do. I’m just getting old.” She gives me a smile. Tired and resigned. But quite possibly the first genuine one since she arrived.
And I’d tell her about Henry. About how much fun it can be having him around. About what a pain in the ass he can be sometimes. Only she’d pr
obably take it the wrong way somehow. See it as yet another reason for me to abandon ship and run home. A soft and fluffy thing winds around my legs. Leaning back in my chair, I watch Princess rub herself up against me. When she spies me watching, she hisses and dashes back to beneath the nearest couch. As you do.
“Did you see that?” I ask Beck.
He blinks. “What?”
“Princess deigned to acknowledge I exist.”
“Oh, no. What a beautiful moment and I missed it.” He grins. “Next time.”
“Next time.”
Mom just watches us with a faint frown. “Are you sure the animal is safe?”
“Yes,” says Beck, back to his blank expression.
This has to be the most awkward fucking meal ever. Mom was always wary of boys who came sniffing around her daughter. Thinking they could only be after one thing (vaginal access). But by the time the male in question has flown you to Denver, bought a house for you to both live in, introduced you to his family, bought you a wardrobe and a car, and offered you a job…you can probably safely assume that his intentions are earnest. Especially given he has yet to put the moves on said vagina. Not that I’m going to share that particular bit of information with my mother. Our sex life, or lack thereof, can stay our business.
“Why don’t we have Christmas here?” I ask, looking around the room. “We could get a big tree, invite everyone over.”
“You’re not coming home for Christmas?” Mom is aghast. Awesome.
“Would we both be welcome?” I ask.
Her mouth gapes. Answer enough.
“It’s our first Christmas together in our new home,” I say. “We haven’t decided how we want to spend it yet.”
Beck bushes his fingers over my hand. “Whatever you want, beloved.”
“We could get Princess a special Christmas collar and everything.”
“She would love that so much,” he lies with great vigor.
“Right?”
Mom looks at us as if we’re both crazy. Maybe we are.
“‘I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve,’” I quote. And it’s nothing less than the truth.
“Hey, that was my line.” Beck rises, kissing me on top of my head. He starts collecting the plates, pausing briefly to look at my mother. His gaze is cool. “You don’t trust me. I can understand that. I wouldn’t want some rich asshole coming in and sweeping my daughter off her feet either. Moving her to another state. Changing her life in big ways. Maybe you and I will learn to get along or maybe we won’t. I hope for Alice’s sake that we do. But whatever happens, don’t ever again tell her what to eat.”
Huh.
Mom stares after him as he takes the plates over to the sink. When she turns to me, the shock in her eyes is clear. Though I don’t know why she’s so surprised. Guess no one’s ever stood up for me before. I’ve done plenty of it myself. Or did I just learn to ignore such shit? Those times at BBQs when she’d point out what piece of steak had the least amount of fat. Serving me the smallest piece of cake at birthday parties. Things like that. Ugh.
“Why don’t I let you two catch up?” Beck heads up the stairs, not looking back.
I just wait, slumped back in my chair, sipping on my beer. How do you respectfully ask your mother to retract the stick from her ass? I knew there’d be resistance to my moving away and everything. This, however, is excessive.
Mom’s hands sit in front of her, fingers tightly laced. “I had a friend in college who dated a rich boy. Tori, her name was.”
“Wasn’t she one of your bridesmaids?”
“That’s right.” Mom’s smile is there and gone. Like lightning. “They were so in love. Just crazy about each other. They went everywhere together. Every party, every football game…you name it. There they were, joined at the hip. He even took her home to meet his family for Thanksgiving and he’d never taken a girl home before. It was fine at first. Everyone was perfectly nice. But then his family decided he was maybe a little too serious about this blue-collar girl. Her father was only a mechanic, you see? Her mother had passed. Tori didn’t know anything about fitting in with the country club set. Didn’t know the right glass to use. But they were determined to be together. Nothing could stop them.
“So after graduation they got married. She worked as a teacher, supporting them both, while he went to law school. It didn’t matter that he’d been cut off by his family and they had to live in some rat-infested attic. They were in love. As long as they had each other everything was fine. For years this went on; Tori worked and he studied. He studied hard, graduated top of his class. His family finally came to their senses and accepted the young couple back into the fold. They bought a big mansion in Bel Air and lived the high life. Parties and galas and business dinners. Holidays in the south of France and skiing in Aspen. She changed to teaching at a private school and drove to work in a brand-new Mercedes and wore Ralph Lauren. It was fine. Until it wasn’t.
“All of the little pressures just kept mounting up on her. The pressure to maintain that illusion of perfection. The pressure to always be in the right place saying the right things to the right people. The pressure to fit in and help her husband make partner. And all the while she was surrounded by these rich people living idle lives with poison pouring out of their mouths and not an ounce of kindness in them. I imagine it must have been like living under a microscope, constantly being watched, everyone just waiting for you to mess up so they could talk about it behind her back. No matter how much Tori and her man loved each other, it wasn’t enough to combat that kind of constant pressure and stress. The cracks started to show and they divorced in the end.
“You can tell me it’s not like that with you and your man. That he and his family and friends are different. That no one expects you to change to fit in. But I watched one of the smartest and strongest women I ever met get chewed up and spat out by just these sort of people. She moved to Scotland and he married a failed actress. The perfect trophy wife. It took Tori years to pull herself back together again.” Mom sighs. “I don’t want that to happen to you.”
“Mom, be reasonable. I’m sorry things didn’t work out for your friend, but I can’t make choices based on someone else’s life. For every possible situation there’s going to be a sad story. An example of how it all came crashing down and ended in ruins,” I say. “But Beck and I can only be ourselves and do what’s right for us. And I need you to respect that.”
Nothing from Mom.
“And as for your concerns about us working together…I’ve been flailing since I graduated, I know that. You and Dad knew that you wanted to go into teaching and that’s great. But it’s okay if I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do for the rest of my life. I just have to make a start somewhere and that’s what I’m doing here and Beck is a big part of that. He woke me up. He made me want more for myself.”
She reaches across the table and pats my hand. “Okay, honey. My girl…you’re just so young.”
“You and Dad have been together since like two minutes after birth so…”
“Not quite that long.” She gives me a dour smile. “I’m flying home tomorrow; I need to get back to work and your father. In the meantime, I’m going to attempt to be nicer to your Beck.”
“I would appreciate that.”
“But be careful. Please.”
“I will.”
“Your father and I are always going to be there for you,” she says, looking me dead in the eye. “Do you hear me, Alice?”
My eyes are misting up. Fuck it. “Yes, Mom. Thank you.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“That’s a sucky story.” Beck keeps drawing patterns on my back, the other hand tucked beneath his head as he stares at the ceiling. He’s particularly handsome when he broods. “No wonder your mom proved so resistant to my charms and devilish good looks.”
“To watch a friend go through that kind of thing,” I say, mood equally somber. “She made it sound like class warfare. I
guess that’s how your grandmother feels about me. The commoner sullying her marble hallways. Bringing down the brilliance of her lineage and defiling her legacy and so on.”
“I shall be your shield, beloved. Rest assured.”
“That’s sweet of you, but it’s not really how it works. I mean, either I can handle the shit that comes my way or…”
“That sounds dire.”
“No,” I say. “Just matter-of-fact. I don’t think any relationship worth having is always going to be easy. We’re two different people with our own thoughts and feelings. The fact that we also come from two very different worlds just adds to the challenge.”
“I can see your point. You do know you come first with me, though, right?” he asks, sounding concerned. “You’re not doing this on your own.”
“I know you’ve got my back.” I smile. “And I’ve got yours. But this fancy-pants lifestyle of yours has some unique pressures and pitfalls. As Penny once said, there’s a lot of competition for my position.”
“They can all fuck off,” he states matter-of-factly. “I’m not interested in anyone but you.”
“Thank you. But you’re often busy with work and I need to be able to stand on my own two feet here.”
He studies me for a moment. “Alice, am I not home enough? Things have been busy since I got back and I’m hopeful that’s going to calm down soon. But in the meantime, are you getting what you need from me attention wise? Because if not, we need to change that.”
“I know things are especially busy for you right now. And I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Beck.”
“Okay. Tell me if that changes.”
“I will. Oh, by the way,” I say, “I hear you have a place in the Hollywood Hills. And London, New York, Oslo…all sorts of interesting places. Including the street your grandmother lives on.
His gaze is quizzical. “Let me guess, Selah?”
“Yes indeedy.”
“The Green Way mansion is going on the market.” He sighs. “Tomorrow.”
