by Tia Wylder
Mom nodded. “Yes, please,” she said. “Take the chicken out of the oven and set the table.”
Grabbing two hot mitts, I took the roasting pan out of the oven. As usual, Ceri had outdone herself. The chicken was perfectly golden-brown and the skin looked succulent and crispy. The bottom of the pan was filled with fingerling potatoes, slices radishes, and carrots. A heavenly aroma filled my nostrils as I carefully set the chicken down on the table.
“Is Dad coming?”
Mom nodded. “He’s just finishing up a few things in his office. He’ll be downstairs soon.”
I sat down at the table and started toying with the edge of my cloth napkin, wondering how painful dinner was going to be. Ever since I’d graduated high school, Mom and Dad had been nagging me to settle down with a guy and get married and start having children. But that had been almost seven years ago, and I still felt like a kid. They were starting to pressure Diane now, too, but she didn’t seem nearly as opposed to the idea as I. In a few minutes, my father came into the room and sat down at the head of the table. He grunted a greeting to me, then pulled out his phone and started looking down at the screen.
Mom cleared her throat. “Carter,” she said. “Please, this is family time.”
Dad sighed and reluctantly put his phone away. “Right,” he said, clearing his throat. He looked at me. “Gianna, how was your day?”
I shrugged. “I bought some new clothes for the winter,” I said. “My friend Jessica is getting married in December, I thought I could have a few new dresses.” As soon as I said the word ‘married,’ I regretted it.
Dad nodded. “Right,” he said. “Well, that sounds good.” He lifted his head up and looked at me for the first time since he’d come into the dining room. “Speaking of marriage—”
“I really don’t want to talk about this right now,” I said, shaking my head. “Sorry.”
“Barnaby is a perfectly respectable man, and he’s a dear friend,” Mom cut in. “And you haven’t even met him, Gianna! He’s perfect for you.”
“If I haven’t met him yet, how can you possibly know that?” I asked sarcastically.
Diane came into the room and sat down. “This looks good,” she said, looking at the roasted chicken.
Mom and Dad ignored her.
“Gianna, you’re getting older,” Dad said. “It’s not as if you’ll have these same options in five years, you know.”
I could feel myself starting to get angry, but I forced myself to hold the anger deep inside. “I’m twenty-five, Dad, not forty,” I countered. “And you know I don’t want to marry him! You’ve been trying to push that guy on me for years! If he’s so great, how come he’s still single?”
Dad narrowed his eyes. “Gianna, I’m disappointed in you,” he said. “Barnaby is a very busy, high-profile lawyer. He doesn’t have time to date.”
“Then he won’t have time for a wife and family,” I replied, reaching my fork into the roasting pan and spearing a carrot.
Mom glared at me. “You are being so disrespectful, young lady,” she said angrily. “And if you don’t change your attitude right now, you can spend the rest of your night in your room.”
For a moment, I thought about standing up from the table and stalking out of the room. After all, at twenty-five, I was more than sick of being treated like some helpless pre-teen.
“Gianna, did you hear your mother?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I heard her.”
“Good,” Dad said. “Because we’ve arranged for Barnaby to dine with us next week. You know we’re hosting the gala for my company, right?”
“Right,” I said miserably. “But Dad, every time you’ve invited him over, he’s always canceled. Don’t you think that means something?”
“It means he’s busy,” Dad replied. “And that’s exactly the kind of quality I want in the man who marries my eldest daughter.”
I sighed. “I really, really don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I said, shaking my head. “At least not tonight.”
“You’re meeting Barnaby next week, and that’s final,” Dad said.
Diane looked at me from across the table and mouthed “It won’t be that bad.”
I ignored her.
As Mom started talking nonsense about her new favorite charity, I tuned out and picked at the chicken thigh on my plate. It was delicious – everything Ceri made was – but I wasn’t hungry anymore. All I could think about was the rest of my life. What if Dad was right? What if somehow, this time, I wouldn’t be able to get out of meeting Barnaby…and saying goodbye to my freedom forever?
“Gianna? Are you okay?” Mom looked at me and squinted. “You’ve barely touched your chicken. Is it overdone? Should I tell Ceri?”
“No,” I said quickly. “It’s really good. I’m just not very hungry.”
Dad chuckled. “Barnaby does prefer women with a little meat on their bones,” he said. “You should eat up.”
I shuddered. “You make me feel like I’m a cow heading to the slaughterhouse,” I said, biting my lip.
Dad sighed. “I won’t have this kind of ridiculous talk at my table.” He got to his feet, grabbed a folded newspaper from the table, and tucked it under his arm before leaving the room. As irritated as he was with me, I had a feeling that he’d been looking for a chance to escape dinner more than a chance to reprimand his unruly daughter.
“Now you’ve ruined dinner,” Mom said. She shook her head and pressed her lips together in a firm line. “Gianna, you should just go upstairs. If you’re hungry later, I can ring for Ceri.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I muttered, pushing my chair from the floor and enjoying how my mother winced as the legs scraped against the polished, hardwood floor. “I’ll just go to sleep. I think I might be coming down with something.”
“Yes, well, you’d better get some rest,” Mom called after me. “You wouldn’t want to be sick for the gala next week!”
I rolled my eyes and stormed up the stairs. Life with my parents had always been difficult, but now it was verging on the edge of impossible. When I’d been in high school, all of my friends had been so jealous. My friend, Jessica, had always said: “But Gianna! Your family is so rich, you can do whatever you want!” God, if only that had been the truth. I’d been a bird in a gilded cage ever since I could remember, and I was starting to feel like it was going to kill me. As much as I hated to admit it, the prospect of getting married was almost enticing now…if only because I knew it would get me out of the house! But then again, I had no idea what Barnaby was like. He was a rich, successful divorce lawyer who handled celebrity cases. When the mayor of Boston had been caught cheating on his wife, Barnaby had taken the wife’s case and won over four billion dollars for her. And if Barnaby was that ruthless in court, what kind of man was he outside? Kind and caring, like my father had said? Or cold and emotionless, like I suspected?
I hadn’t been in my room for more than ten minutes when Diane barged in, glaring at me.
“What did I say about knocking?” I asked her rudely.
“You ruined dinner,” Diane said, flopping down on my king-sized bed and throwing one of the satin pillows at me. I dodged it and the pillow fell to the floor, landing noiselessly on the plush ivory carpet.
“I don’t care,” I said. “If Dad and Mom make me marry that jerk, they’ll have ruined my life. And somehow, Diane, I think that’s a little more important than dinner.”
Diane bit her lip. “Look, Gianna – I get it. But what if he’s a nice guy? And I mean, he’s not that old – he’s only thirty-seven.”
“When I was thirteen, he was my age!” I exclaimed. “That’s practically ancient.”
“Well, maybe he’s really hot or something,” Diane said. “And maybe he’ll be really good to you.”
“Oh, please,” I said. “Stop taking their side. We’re sisters. We’re supposed to be on the same page!”
Diane didn’t reply. She sniffed and tilted her chin high in the air, but h
er arrogant look faded after a moment or two. “Look,” she said softly. “Gianna, what else are you going to do with your life?”
“Move out of this place and get a job, and take care of myself,” I said. “And then when I have enough money saved, I want to go to Los Angeles and be an actress. You know that – that’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“Yeah, when you were a little kid,” Diane said. “Gianna, you’re not a kid anymore. You’re an adult, and you can’t just indulge these fantasies.”
“Fine,” I snapped. “Then I’ll move out and get a job and see what happens. Maybe I’ll meet someone I actually love – and marry them!”
“You could fall in love with Barnaby, you know,” Diane said. “It would be so romantic, like one of those old mail order bride stories where they fall in love after they’re married.”
“That’s disgusting,” I said flatly. “And speaking of fantasies, now who sounds crazy?”
Diane flushed. “I was just saying,” she said, shaking her head and shrugging. “I mean, Gianna, you didn’t go to college. You barely graduated high school!”
I sighed. “I wanted to go to college,” I said. “Dad wouldn’t let me, remember?”
“Well, you probably wouldn’t have gotten in,” Diane said in a gentle voice. “I mean, your grades weren’t very good.”
“Neither were yours,” I said hotly.
“Yeah, I know,” Diane replied. She bit her lip. “But I wish Mom and Dad had a guy in mind for me.”
“Take Barnaby,” I said. “You can have him, for all I care.”
Diane frowned. “But he doesn’t want me. He wants you.”
I snorted. “I highly doubt that,” I said. “To be honest, I don’t think he wants either of us, Diane. He doesn’t seem terribly enthused about the prospect of getting married.”
Diane pouted.
“You’ll find someone,” I said, sitting next to her on the bed and patting her arm.
“You should listen to Mom and Dad,” Diane said suddenly. “Gianna, they only want what’s best for you, and I think you know that.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What, did Mom send you up here to talk some sense into me or some bullshit?”
Diane flushed.
“I don’t like the look of that,” I said sharply. “Are you serious?”
Diane sighed. “Gianna, I’m sorry, but—“
I abruptly got off the bed and crossed my arms over my chest. “Get out of my room,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t feel like talking to you right now.”
Diane looked like she wanted to cry, and for a moment, I felt guilty. But it wasn’t long before my guilt was replaced by vicious anger, and I glared at her until she got off my bed and slumped out of my room.
As soon as she was gone, I groaned and buried my face in my hands. It had always been like this – I’d been the outspoken, strong sister…and Diane had been the spineless sister, always bending over backward to please Mom and Dad. In fact, come to think of it, I couldn’t remember Diane ever getting into a fight with Mom, or Dad.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Jessica. Thankfully, she answered on the first ring.
“Hey,” Jessica said. “What’s up?” She sounded distracted.
“Um, nothing,” I lied. “I just feel like getting out of the house for a while. Are you doing anything?”
“I was going to try that new club, Punky, but I’m not sure now,” Jessica said. She yawned loudly into the phone, and I winced. “I’m really tired. I was at a dress fitting today, and ugh, god, I feel so fat.”
“Well, come out and dance with me,” I said. “That burns calories, right?”
Jessica laughed. “I thought you weren’t allowed to go out?”
“I am now,” I lied. “So, are you in?”
“I guess,” Jessica said. “After all, I’m not going to be a single woman for much longer. What time? You want to go now?”
I glanced outside. The sun was just beginning to set, but it was still too light. “In a while,” I said. “Like, eight-thirty?” I knew I wouldn’t be able to sneak out until it was fully dark, and even then, I’d have to be careful. Mom and Dad had motion-sensing lights installed around the perimeter of their property, and I would have to creep across the lawn, jump the fence, and then somehow manage to hail a cab. The prospect was daunting, but suddenly I felt like I would lose my mind if I had to spend one more second trapped inside their perfect McMansion.
“Okay,” Jessica said. “You want me to stop by and pick you up?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I mean, no, thanks, though. I’ll get a cab and meet you there.”
“Okay,” Jessica repeated. She sounded a little suspicious, but thankfully she didn’t ask any further questions. “Sounds good.”
We hung up, and I immediately went into my attached bathroom and shut the door before filling the tub with hot, soapy water. As soon as the tub was filled to the brim, I carefully climbed inside and let the bubbles flow over my body. It was relaxing, but I was in no mood to relax. I wanted to go out and paint the town red. I wanted to dance with strangers, I wanted to meet handsome men.
In short, I wanted to forget all about my disastrous evening…and Barnaby, before my parents or Diane had the chance to remind me again.
At eight-ten, I slipped out of my bedroom window and carefully crawled down the rose trellis. The night sky was fully dark, and it was chilly outside, but I hadn’t brought a jacket – all of my coats were in the downstairs hall closets, and I knew my parents would ask questions if they saw me sneaking into the foyer wearing a cocktail dress and heels. I didn’t have much in the way of risqué clothing, but in my dark blue satin dress, I felt pretty good. I knew the color set off my pale skin and made my eyes look more golden than brown. Clutched in my fingers, I carried a pair of heels that I’d worn the previous spring as a bridesmaid at a cousin’s wedding. I just hoped they weren’t dreadfully out of date.
The air was still and silent. We lived just outside of Boston, and although I could see the skyline in the distance, the quiet air was almost unnerving as I crept across the cold, wet grass. By the time I got to the large iron fence, I was shivering but feeling triumphant – not a single light had gone off, and I hadn’t heard the telltale barking from my father’s arsenal of security dogs.
Gripping the iron fence with both hands, I hauled myself up and over. For a moment, I thought I wasn’t going to make it. But then I summoned my strength and pulled myself free and clear. Tumbling onto the grass, a smile spread across my face. I did it, I thought as I got to my feet and brushed my hands off. I finally escaped!
Twenty minutes later, Jessica and I were pushing our way into a crowded club. It was much more packed than I’d assumed – every inch was filled with bodies. It was strange, but I didn’t mind. After all, the only times I’d danced before had been at family weddings…and this was certainly a different atmosphere. Music was blaring from seemingly every angle, and the lighting was so dim that I could hardly see Jess, even though she was standing in front of me.
“I’m going to get a drink!” Jessica yelled.
“Get me one, too,” I yelled back.
Jessica nodded, then turned and pushed through a massive bunch of people clustered around a long, metallic bar covered in sparkles. I swallowed nervously as I watched my best friend disappear. This is exciting.I thought as I looked around. I couldn’t believe it – I was embarrassed to admit that I’d never been in a real club before – but it was growing less strange by the second. Soon, I found that I was even bobbing my head in time to the rhythm of the loud music.
“Hey!” A loud voice made me jump, and I whirled around, expecting to see Jessica with two glasses of wine in her hand. But instead, there was a guy standing there – a gorgeous guy, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
“Hi,” I said, pushing my chest out and smiling, just like I’d read in a girl’s magazine. “I’m Gianna.”
The guy grinned. “Andy,” he said. “A
ndy Cole.”
“Gianna DiFaba,” I said.
Andy reached for my hand, and we shook. It felt strangely formal, and I laughed again. Andy gave me a bemused look. “So, do you come here often?”
“No,” I said loudly, struggling to be heard over the bass and thump of the music. “This is my first time. I’m with my friend, but I think she went to get drinks!”
Andy nodded. “Let me buy you another one,” he said.
There was a glint in his eyes that made me a little nervous, but it was a thrilling sensation and not a scary one. Aside from school, I hadn’t had much interaction with men outside of my own family. Dad hadn’t ever let me go on a real date, and most of my other attempts to sneak out had been foiled by his bodyguard, Jake.
