by Anthology
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TOASTED
By Shantel Tessier
Chapter One
Pristine
At seven o’clock in the morning on a Saturday, I sit with my shoulders slouched and my eyes heavy. Normally, I would just now be crawling into bed from a long night partying, but instead, I am sitting at my parents’ house with my parents, sister, her fiancé, and his parents. It sounds as boring as it is.
I cover my mouth to try to hide my yawn as I look around my mother’s table, wondering where in the hell our coffee is. I sure could use a venti white chocolate mocha from Starbucks right now, but all I see is an expensive glass vase that holds twelve freshly cut red roses, a red table runner that my mother only puts out around Christmas, and the red placemats that match.
“Long night?” my mother asks me.
I look at her, and her bright green eyes scrutinize me as she looks at my lack of makeup and messy bun. If it were just her and me, she would say, It’s a lazy look, and no woman should ever be seen not looking her best. I would tell her to embrace my laziness. I’m too old to change my ways now. “No. I actually stayed in last night,” I tell her.
My sister snorts from beside me. “Then why do you look like…crap?” she asks, also looking at me as if she doesn’t approve. Her nose is up in the air, green eyes narrowed, and lips pulled back in disgust. She dons a white linen baby doll dress and baby blue Valentino heels even though it’s below freezing outside and supposed to snow later today. It is Denver in the middle of December, after all.
“Because it’s seven o’clock in the morning,” I respond with a tight smile. “I should be in bed.”
“It’s better to get your day going early,” she says, flipping her blond hair over her shoulder. “I don’t know how you can sleep the day away.”
I let out a huff but refuse to argue with her, so instead, I give her a big smile. “You know me so well.” Not.
“Where is Chaseyn?” my sister’s fiancé, David, asks no one in particular as he looks down at his fancy watch. He is dressed like the rest of the men—white button-up shirt, black slacks, and a baby blue tie.
Aww, his tie matches her heels. Barf!
“Oh, you know your brother,” his mother replies. She looks at me, her blue eyes as soft as her smile. “Chase isn’t a morning person, either.”
If this dick is asleep in a bed somewhere while I’m sitting here, I’m gonna punch him in the face when I finally meet him.
“It’s very rude to show up late,” my sister says with a huff.
I roll my eyes. “I shouldn’t have shown up at all,” I say, and my mother narrows her green eyes on me, and I look away from her just in time to see her waitstaff, dressed in three-piece suits, walk into my parents’ formal dining room with cups of coffee on their silver trays along with creamer and sugar. It’s not Starbucks, but it’ll do.
“So,” my mother says, taking her cup of coffee from one of the waiters, “have you guys decided on a venue yet?”
“A venue?” his mother asks with a look of surprise in her blue eyes. “You haven’t even picked a date yet, have you?” she asks, before taking a sip from her cup. Obviously, my mother knows more than his mother does.
I don’t miss the look my sister throws my mother before she settles her attention and fake smile on her soon-to-be mother-in-law. “We have, Mrs. Holmes. That is why we have called this family meeting.”
I snort. “A family meeting, my ass.” Now, I’m who my sister throws her best fuck-you look at, and I smile into my coffee cup.
This is my second time to meet her soon-to-be in-laws. The first time was last month. The guys played a round of golf while the four of us women had brunch in the clubhouse. Funny, I recall his brother, Chaseyn, missing that time too because he had dropped his phone in the toilet. Yeah, even I’ve used better excuses than that.
Mr. and Mrs. Holmes seem nice—enough. I’m not sure they are as happy about the engagement as my parents are, though. My sister has only been dating the guy for four months now, and last week, he popped the question while on a helicopter ride over Denver looking at Christmas lights. It’s a little cliché, if you ask me, but I’m not much of a romantic. My sister, on the other hand, eats it up.
“I’m sorry, everyone; Chaseyn is always late.” Mr. Holmes speaks for the first time. He checks the clock on his phone for the fifth time as I hear his shoe tap the hardwood floor.
“You don’t need to apologize, Dad.” I cringe as my sister calls her fiancé’s father, dad. I look at my father, and he too has a hard time swallowing his coffee without spitting it out onto the table.
“Every family has one.” She looks at me sitting next to her out of the corner of her eye.
“And just what do you mean by that?” I ask. Turning to fully face her, letting her know I saw that look.
“Pristine…” My mother starts in as she reaches up and grabs the single pearl necklace that belonged to my grandmother. She left it to me, but my mother felt I wasn’t old enough to care for it. That was when I was thirteen—ten years ago. Pretty sure I’m never gonna get that back.
“No, Mother. She needs to answer the question.” I look away from my mother and back to my sister. “I’m never late.”
“One does not solely reside on tardiness,” she says matter-of-factly.
I roll my eyes at her. “Then what does it reside on, Hillary?”
“Pristine,” my mother snaps. “That is enough.” She looks at Hillary’s soon-to-be in-laws to apologize for me and smiles softly. “I apologize—”
“Yes, my sister can be a little harsh.” Hillary interrupts her.
I slam my coffee cup down onto the oak table, and the drinks rattle from the force. I decided it’s time for something a little stronger than coffee and head to my parents’ kitchen. I avoid the waitstaff preparing our breakfast as I go over to the far side and open the glass cabinets.
“She doesn’t mean that.”
I turn around to see my father walking into the kitchen, and everyone else shuffles out quickly to give us our space. “Don’t take up for her.”
“I’m not,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. “She’s just under a lot of stress.” I arch a brow. “The wedding…”
“I guess I would be too if I was spending fifty grand on something that’s only gonna last a year.” I don’t know how in the world she is going to spend fifty thousand dollars. I mean when I was planning a wedding…I stop that train of thought. It’s too early for that shit.
He sighs in disapproval, but he won’t chastise me like my mom does. “At least, I hope it lasts that long.” I smile. “I’ve bet on it.”
He shakes his head. “You bet on your sister’s wedding?”
“Of course. You’ve taught me to take an opportunity when money is presented.”
He nods his head. “I did that, yes, but not to capitalize on one’s…”
“Loss?” I offer when he can’t decide on the word he wants to use.
“Happiness.”
I huff. “She’s marrying him because the sex is great.” His face contorts into pain at the mention of his daughter having sex. “He’s marrying her ’cause she’s the perfect stuck-up bitch that he knows his mother hates.” I decide on the Crown. Pouring the liquid into my glass tumbler, I raise it. “To Hillary and David.”
“I hope you work on your maid of honor speech,” he says dryly.
I smile at him. “Daddy, I would never…” He bursts out laughing and then walks over to me.
“I love you, sweet pea,” he says, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I hug him back, and he pulls away.
“I love you too, Daddy.”
He reaches up and rubs my shoulders. “How are you doing?”
I keep my face blank. I’ve had six months to get this right. “I’m fine,” I say flatly.
His hands drop fro
m my shoulders, and his eyes fall to the glass bottle in my left hand and then to the tumbler in the other. “You’re going to drink at seven in the morning?”
I nod. “If I didn’t have to be at this stupid family meeting, I would still be drunk anyway,” I state.
He sighs heavily as he leans against the countertop. “Sweet pea, I want you to know that you can talk to me. If you’re having any problems…”
“I’m not, Dad. I’m doing okay.” I just have to keep reminding myself of that.
He licks his lips and looks me in the eyes. Both of my sisters got my mother’s green eyes. I got my father’s blue ones. He’s a handsome man, if I must say so. He stands at six-foot even, and due to all the diets my mother makes him follow, he is in great shape. He has a little silver in his dark hair, but he says it adds character and refuses to dye it, no matter how many times my mother tells him to do so. “Did your mother tell you that she invited Malcolm tomorrow night?”
The name alone makes me want to down the entire bottle in my hand. “Yes,” comes my clipped answer. “We all knew she would.”
He shakes his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I told her not to, that is wasn’t necessary, but you know your mother.”
I nod. “Appearance is everything!” My hand tightens on the full bottle. “And of course, the auction.”
“She knew he wouldn’t be able to turn down the invite, and she wants his…”
“Money.” I growl.
“Donation.”
I laugh, but it holds no humor. “Come on, Dad. Even you don’t believe that bullshit.”
He gives a soft laugh at that. After a second, he gets serious and looks me in the eyes. “She’s not trying to hurt you.”
Then why does it feel like she is? “I know.”
He pats my shoulder and starts to walk away. “Hey, Dad?” I call out. He stops and turns around to look at me. “Wanna do me a favor?” I ask, raising the bottle offering him a drink.
He sighs before gesturing to the cabinet. “Hand me a glass.”
Chaseyn
An annoying sound seems to blare in my ears. I yank the pillow out from under my own head and place it over my face, turning onto my side. The noise stops. I sigh and relax into the comfy bed. A soft hand wraps around my waist and starts to travel down my stomach.
“Hmmm.” I groan as I feel my cock start to harden as a hand wraps around the base of it.
That buzzing noise starts again, and I tune it out as she starts to stroke me. “That’s it,” I say into the pillow and then reach up, throwing it off my face.
“Morning,” she speaks softly.
I roll over onto my back and look up at a woman with curly black hair and brown eyes. She leans over me, her hand still wrapped around my cock. Light bathes the bedroom, and a thought hits me. “Morning?” I sit up quickly. That buzzing noise comes again. “My phone.”
I push her away and snatch my phone off her nightstand. Dad lights up my screen. “Shit!” I growl, throwing the covers off me and climbing out of her bed.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“I gotta go.” I pick up my jeans from her messy floor.
“Go where?”
I ignore her as I hop from leg to leg. “Fuck!” I hiss before face planting into a beanbag chair.
“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting up quickly.
“I’m fine, Jane,” I assure her as I roll off it and onto her carpeted floor. My used condom from last night sits on the floor now beside my head. My arms fall to my side, and I blink a few times, trying to will my body the strength it’s gonna need to survive this morning. I’m late for breakfast! With my brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law.
“It’s Crystal,” she corrects me, sounding no longer concerned.
Right. “Crystal,” I say, sitting up on her floor.
She growls, throwing off the covers and storming her naked ass to the bathroom. “Lock the door on your way out,” she demands before slamming the bathroom door.
I manage to stand and get my jeans on without falling again. I snatch my keys off her nightstand and then leave her bedroom. I pick up my black button-down and leather jacket in her hallway. I button up my shirt as I make my way to the living room before grabbing my helmet off her couch and storm out of her house.
Chapter Two
Pristine
All heads swing toward the entrance of the formal dining room as we hear voices nearing. Seconds later, our housekeeper, Rhonda, walks in with a man following her. His long dark hair looks like he’s missed the last few haircuts. He tucks it behind his ear and smiles. I look him over and smile to myself when I see I’m not the only one who didn’t dress up for this stupid breakfast. He either pulled his wrinkled denim jeans out of a dirty clothes hamper or picked them up off a woman’s floor this morning. His black button-down is untucked and just as wrinkled. He even missed the top button on his shirt, causing the left side to hang lower than the right. “Hello, everyone. Sorry I’m late.” His deep voice bounces off the quiet walls of the house as Rhonda takes the silver helmet from his right hand.
My father is the first to stand, and I hear my sister huff. “No worries,” he tells him. “Welcome! I’m Jeffrey Inger.”
He shakes my father’s hand, and I take a sip of my drink. “Chaseyn Holmes,” he says with a nod. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
My mother makes no attempt to move and neither does my sister or his brother. His mother, however, gets up and hugs him with a big smile on her face. “Is everything okay, Chase?” she asks him as if he was late for a reason other than a woman. I’m old enough to know the signs. And all signs lead to a hangover and women.
“Yes, Mother,” he assures her.
His father finally stands and hugs him as well and slaps him on the back. “Nice of you to join us, son,” his father says sarcastically. “I’ve been calling your phone.”
“Yes. My phone isn’t working.”
I refrain from laughing at that lame excuse.
“You’re over an hour late,” his brother reminds him.
The smile drops off his face, and he sighs. “I know. I slept in. No phone. No alarm.” Okay, so that excuse kinda worked out for him.
“It looks like you haven’t been to bed yet,” my sister says, looking him up and down in disgust. I roll my eyes and take another sip of my Crown.
“You must be the bride,” he says with a tight smile. His eyes drop down to her five-karat engagement ring as his brother holds her hand in his.
“That would be me,” she replies tightly. “Nice to finally meet you.” Neither of them look pleased to meet the other.
This family meeting is getting better already. I stand. “I’m the sister,” I say, being polite, and reach out my hand. “Pristine. It’s nice to meet you, Chaseyn.”
His blue eyes land on me, and he reaches out his hand and shakes it. “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” he says, and I hear my sister snort. As if he can’t have any manners since he was an hour late to her get-together.
“The pleasure is all mine,” I say, giving him a bright smile as my eyes trail down over his broad shoulders and narrow hips. His brows rise in surprise, and he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I like the guy already. He’s not bad to look at. He has a slender face with sharp cheekbones. Not only does he lack a haircut, but he also hasn’t shaved. Days of stubble trail from his dark sideburns down along his chin and around his lips. He seems to have my careless attitude, and he’s pissing my sister off. Bonus!
I sit down and take a sip of my drink. My sister looks over at me; her eyes narrowed and lips thinned. She thinks I’m flirting with him, and she doesn’t like it. Well, too bad.
“What can I get you, sir?” the waitstaff asks him. He looks around the table. Everyone has coffee except for my father and me. We both have Crown; the only difference is mine is almost gone, and his is still full. “I’ll have what they are having.”
“I’ll take another please,” I say, lifting
my glass.
“Pristine.” My mother says my name sharply. “She will not,” she says to her staff.
I shake my almost empty raised glass. “I’m pretty sure I’m past the age where you can tell me what to do, Mother,” I say flatly, and the room falls silent.
“You need to be respectful,” she says after a long pause.
“And having a drink isn’t?” I question with an arch of my brows. “Not like I’m gonna have so much that I rip my clothes off, jump on the table, and start shaking my ass,” I say, and her nostrils flare as my sister shrieks. My father coughs, and Chaseyn laughs.
“Now, that is something I wouldn’t be late for,” he states, and all eyes dart to him accusingly. He clears his throat and sits straighter in his seat.
I smile. “See, someone here appreciates me.”
My mother touches her single pearl again. “Today is about your sister. Stop it.”
“Thanks, Mother,” my sister says with a fuck-you smile.
“Not sure why. We all know it won’t last,” I mumble under my breath where only I can hear. I finish off what’s left of my drink and look up to meet a set of blue eyes that are already staring at me. Did he hear me say that? The waitstaff returns with our drinks. I salute him with my now full glass. He does the same, a smirk growing on his face. I give him a wink and toss it back.
Chaseyn
“So we’ve decided on a date,” my soon-to-be sister-in-law says. I just met her, and I already dislike her. But to be honest, she fits my brother perfectly. They look like Barbie and Ken. She has bleach-blond hair and a small face with green eyes. My brother has that clean-cut look with slicked back light hair in his expensive button up and slacks.
“Couldn’t you have told us this in a mass text message?” the sassy brunette asks from across the table. I try to hold in my laugh but fail. I like her. She reminds me of myself. Her hair is messy, and she’s wearing sweatpants with an oversized t-shirt. She has no makeup on and a fuck-you smile on her face. She holds a glass tumbler in her left hand, and she drinks it as if she’s playing a card game rather than sitting at a table with family at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning.
