by Mary Smith
“Do you want desert now?” She stands quickly and rushes to the kitchen.
Okay, that isn’t going to work.
What am I trying to do here? I’m well aware we won’t be having sex, especially with Aimee in the other room. I do want to kiss her, if for no other reason than to make up for our first one. Sure, I shouldn’t have taken almost four years to do it, but I’ve been gone a lot since then.
I rise from the couch and go to her. She’s placing the cupcake on a small platter.
“Do you want something to drink?”
“Sure.” I sit down and wait for Dacey to make us each a cup of tea.
I take the first bite and can’t believe the moist cake I’m tasting. “Dacey, this is the best.” I take another bite. “You have a real talent.”
“Thanks.” She sips her tea. We finish our dessert and, as we’re cleaning up the dishes, she asks, “Do you remember out first date?”
“I do. We were fourteen and your parents let us go see a movie. Alone.” I bump her shoulder.
“We went to dinner afterward.”
“That’s right.” I dry my hands and rest against the counter.
“We didn’t say one word the whole time we were together that night.” She puts one hand on her hip and looks up at me.
“True.”
“Today, we’ve talked more than the eleven years we’ve been arranged.”
I shrug. “So, we both agreed to put in the effort. Communicating is a big one. We need to get to know each other. What’s wrong?”
She hangs her head. “I just find it strange we’re moving so fast now.”
“We have until the draft. Dacey, that means it will move quicker.” I state the obvious.
“And you’re sure you want to do this? You want to make a serious commitment.” Dacey’s blue eyes bore into mine.
“Yes. I’ve said this already. Twice.” How many times does she need to hear it? “I’m putting in all my effort for this.”
“Why? You could easily end this, go off to America, and find a great girl out there.”
“Look, I could. You’re right, but our lives aren’t designed that way. Is it? On top of that, I can’t go against my parents.” I really could care less about my parents, but she doesn’t need to all of it right now.
“Well, I don’t want to go against mine.” She raises her voice.
“It’s much different for me.” I keep my same even tone. “Your parents love you.”
Dacey takes a step back. “What? Your parents love you.”
I stifle a laugh. “You have no idea, do you? My dad has barely said two words to me since I chose hockey over going to university.”
She looks confused. “What are you talking about?”
I shake my head, pushing my hands through my hair. “He wanted me to follow his footsteps like Gerald and Apollo did and become an attorney. When I struggled in school, he shipped me to boarding school. When it didn’t work, we fought constantly about me going to Canada and now, with the draft, it’s getting worse.”
Dacey seems to be in shock. “I had no idea. Your Mum acts like all is well with your family.”
I don’t say anything. It’s all part of Mum’s show of our perfect family. “She wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow. You can see firsthand what I’m talking about.” Dacey should know what she’s getting into.
She nods and doesn’t say much else. “It’s getting a bit late, and we’ve both had a long day.”
I knew when I’m being politely kicked out. “Yes, we did.”
“I had a good time,” she adds.
“Me too.” She leads the way to her door, but before she opens it, I ask, “Dacey, could you oblige me in a small favor?”
She turns. “Sure.”
Not sure why I’ve suddenly become so formal. Maybe because I want this to be perfect. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Please, just close them.” I push a bit.
She’s nervous, but does it.
I move right up to her, and I study her face. I can see the tension in her brow, but her pink lips are calling to me. Very gently, I cup her face and she gasps softly. I lean down and hover over her mouth. I feel her warm breath; I close the millimeter, and I kiss her.
She tenses up, and I’m afraid I pushed too far, but then she relaxes and opens her mouth. I pull her flush with me, and she rests her hand on my biceps. I leave my hands holding her face because I don’t trust myself if I move them.
Too soon, I pull away and Dacey remains in place with her eyes still closed. “That should have been our first kiss,” I whisper in her ear. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” I brush my lips against her cheek before leaving.
Chapter Seven
Dacey
Aimee is grinning ear-to-ear as I tell her what happened last night with Vance. I aimlessly stroll through the market in a love-sick daze. I’m aware it’s one kiss, but it’s exactly how I pictured a kiss with Vance.
“I’m deciding to shuck out the first one,” I say picking out several apples. I had told her about our first kiss.
“I would too. The first one was for shit.” She hands me a pineapple to put in our basket I’m carrying.
“Are you ready for Saturday?” I change the topic to her wedding.
“Yes. Everything seems to be moving smoothly. However, I’m about the hen and stag.”
“Why? Ned’s brother and I have coordinated everything. Though I’m still surprised you wanted to do it together. I thought you have yours on your own, alone with us girls.” Aimee came to me months ago and told me about her plans. Ned’s brother, Michael, and I have been emailing each other to make sure we have the VIP rooms reserved.
“Friday will be epic,” Aimee giggles, making me do the same. I can’t believe her wedding is upon us already.
“I promise nothing will go wrong, and it’ll be the best hen party ever in Belfast.”
Aimee’s still smiling; I almost want to jump up and down at the glow on her face. “Now all we need is to get you down the aisle.”
I groan. “We’re most definitely not at that point.”
“Soon you will be.” She hugs my shoulders. “Vance is a good guy. He’ll marry you.”
I nod, hoping yesterday was just the beginning of my new life.
I check myself for the eighth time in the mirror. I left my hair down and curled the ends. I put on makeup, but never use it a lot so I keep it simple. I pick a purple wrap dress and matching heels. I know Vance’s family is very formal, and I hope this is good enough for dinner.
After another fluff of my hair, the knocks come, and I know he is here. I try my best not to rush down the hall in my heels because I can easily see myself face planting into the floor.
Aimee is already letting Vance in when I reach the door. “You two have fun.”
She leaves as my gaze roams over his body. He’s in a dark gray suit with a white dress shirt and bright yellow tie. “You look amazing.”
“Aw, thanks.” I smooth out my dress. “You look dashing.”
He shrugs unimpressively. “Thanks. Do you have everything?”
I nod, picking up my purse and phone. Vance reaches out his hand, and I lace my fingers with his. We’ve held hands in the past mainly around our parents and to keep up appearances. But this felt different, more natural.
Vance talks about hockey and his new work out plan on the way to his parents. Even though I don’t have much to add to the conversation, I like that he’s being so open with me.
When we pull up to the gates of his parent’s home, I’m still in awe of the vast mansion in front of me. As a child, I thought it a home where giants lived. As an adult, I know it’s not a giant but an extremely talented attorney and real estate mogul.
James Pemberton, Vance’s father, is one of Ireland’s wealthiest men. Not to mention the top attorney in the land and he owns a lot of land. That’s not a lie either. He has had his hand in every pot, and it’s been very lucrative.
Laura Pemberton, Vance’s mum, isn’t just a house wife. Like her husband, she has her dealings as well, having ownership in several restaurants in Belfast. She’s also a big charity hostess.
Vance shuts off his car but doesn’t make a move to get out. “You okay?”
“I guess. The sooner this starts, the faster it’s over,” he mumbles and steps out, coming over to my side to open the door.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I reassure him.
He shakes his head. “You’ve only been exposed to them when people are around, never a family dinner. There’s a vast difference.” He leads the way to the front door and ushers me in.
Whenever I walk into an art museum, I’m generally scared I’ll break something; I have the same feeling when I step a foot into the Pemberton’s.
“Home sweet home,” he grits just as I hear Mrs. Pemberton calling our names down the hall.
“Dacey, I’m so glad you came.” She kisses my cheeks, hugging me to her.
“Thank you for the invitation,” I politely say.
“Oh, you’re soon to be my daughter. You don’t need an invitation to come here. You are welcome here at any time.”
I smile and watch her turn to Vance. “Darling.” She kisses and hugs him as well. “Let’s head into the bar and have a cocktail before dinner.” She loops her arm with mine and guides me toward the bar.
Mr. Pemberton, the first to greet me, holds me a bit longer in a hug than I’m comfortable with, but I let it slide since he reeks of bourbon. He must be a handsy-drunk.
“What do you drink, little Dacey?” He waves his hand over the overstocked bar.
“White wine is fine,” I manage to say.
“Great.” When he leaves my side, I go and stand close to Vance. “And what would my ass of a son want?”
“Dad.” Gerald spoke first. “We’re going to have a nice evening.”
“James, he’s right, and you promised me.” Mrs. Pemberton’s firm tone shakes me to the core. I’ve never heard her this way.
“Fine,” Mr. Pemberton barks and hands me my wine. “Enjoy little Dacey.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pemberton.” I take it from him.
Thankfully, Apollo speaks up and begins talking about something in the news. Mrs. Pemberton fixes a double bourbon for Vance as the other guys continue with their talk.
Leeza and Robyn walk in a moment later and seem extremely pleased as Vance and I are still close to each other. His brothers show the same exciting expression over that fact.
As the girls comment on my dress and shoes, one of the Pemberton’s many staff members, comes in and announces dinner is ready.
We make our way to the formal dining room, Vance places his hand low on the small of my back. It’s a small gesture, but my heart speeds up. I can’t help but flash back to our kiss and the way our bodies felt close to each other.
“Hey,” he softly whispers in my ear. “Just ignore everything he says at dinner. His booze makes him talk a lot.”
I nod and suddenly wonder what else I don’t know about the Pembertons. I know Mrs. Pemberton has a well-kept, picture perfect family in her mind. I’m seeing the truth now and it’s making me uncomfortable.
Vance holds my chair, and I smile at his chivalry. I sit between Robyn and Leeza and the guys are across from us. I glance at the place settings in front of me, and I’m sure it’s made of real gold and bone china.
Not something you put in a microwave.
The first course is served, and I do my best to take small, dainty bites. Mum will kill me dead if she finds out I’m shoveling food into my mouth like a barn animal.
Gerald, Apollo, and Mr. Pemberton are still discussing work or maybe some case. “Vance, is this topic too advanced for you?” Mr. Pemberton asks as our second course comes.
“Fuck off, Dad.”
“You promised.” Mrs. Pemberton cuts a glare at her husband. “So did you.” She gives Vance the same look. Vance glances at me and then away.
The tension is thick as Mr. Pemberton’s eyes narrow toward his youngest son. He turns his attention to me and my mouth goes dry as his lip curl. “Dacey how’s life at University?”
“It’s well,” I manage to say. “I’m glad it’s over.”
“Your mum is still sad you’re not going to your graduation.” Mrs. Pemberton smiles sadly.
“I’ll be in America at the draft with Vance. That’ll be more fun than a boring party.” I’m not at all sad about missing my ceremony or whatever party Mum has planned. Going to America and seeing some of the sights, not to mention Vance’s draft, sounds more fun.
“I’m sure Vance bought you something special.” Mrs. Pemberton beams and looks over at him. He’s white as a ghost.
“Um…yes…I did.” He flicks his gaze at me, and I know he’s lying. Apollo rolls his eyes, and Gerald shakes his head. Obviously, Vance is the world’s worst liar.
Mr. Pemberton chuckles. “You shit. You forgot she finished.” He laughs louder. “Dacey, he fucking forgot because he’s been shagging every Canadian whore who bats her eyes at him.”
My fork falls onto the china and the room seems to explode. Everyone is yelling at Mr. Pemberton who’s screaming back at his family.
“Come with me.” Robyn grabs my hand, pulling me from my chair.
She takes me down the long hallway until we reach a room with a movie size screen and massive couches.
“Stay here until Vance comes in and talks to you.” She shuts the door, and my body begins to shake.
Reality hits me hard and Mr. Pemberton’s words spin around me. Vance’s been fucking around all this time, while I’m pretty much guarded every moment. His dick has been hopping all over bloody Canada. Has he been using condoms? How many girls? Are any of them pregnant? Had he already had a child?
“Dacey.”
I jump when Robyn says my name.
“I brought you your purse.” She hands it to me before leaving.
I’m trying to remain calm as I dig through and find my mobile, hitting my Dad’s name.
“Dacey, love, what is my tiny girl doing?”
“Dad, I need you.” The first sob hits me.
“Dacey.” I hear the panic in his voice. “Where are ye love?”
“The Pembertons; please hurry.”
“Your mum and I are down the road at the O’Malley’s. We’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Okay.” I end the call and try to take a deep breath to settle my shaking body.
I’m so hurt and mad. I let myself almost believe he’d been faithful and really cared. The past two days were incredible. I should have known it couldn’t be real.
“Dacey.”
I whip around and see Vance standing in the room with me. “I can’t…” I shake my head backing away from him.
“I’m so sorry. Please let me explain.” He comes toward me, but I put my hand out to stop him.
“Explain what? There’s nothing to explain or say unless you’re about to tell me your dad is lying.”
Vance hangs his head.
“That’s my answer then.” My heart breaks more seeing the truth on his face.
“I’m sorry.”
“You already said that, and I heard it.” The coldness in my voice makes him wince.
“Please, let’s just talk.”
“Talk!” I yell. “Now you want to talk. You have nothing I want to hear, Vance. We should have come to terms about this arrangement a long time ago. The first time you had another woman in your bed, you should have known we were over.”
He looks as if he’s about to cry.
“When was the first time?”
“Let’s not go into details.”
“Tell me,” I growl at him.
“I was eighteen,” he whispers.
“What!” I exclaim with a gasp. “Three years ago. Three fucking years.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying it.” I’m raging mad now, and I just want to slap him.
“How many?”
“Dac—”
“How many?” I study his face as his jaw pops.
“Four.”
My knees give away and I sit on the armrest of one of the couches. “Four,” I repeat, trying to process the number in my brain. “Were you just fucking them?”
“I…I…dated one for a while.”
All the air leaves the room, and I can’t even blink as we stare at each other.
“It was only a couple of months. Just some dates and…stuff.”
I’m well aware of what he means by stuff.
“I broke it off because I knew we would be getting married soon and…well…” he trails off.
“Did you love her? Or any of them?” I’m not sure if I want to know the answer.
He shakes his head. “I’ve never loved anyone.”
I scoff without meaning to. “Thanks for adding me in with your slappers.” I shouldn’t call them a foul name. They probably didn’t even know about me.
“You know I care for you.” He pleads.
“I clearly see how much.” The first tear escapes down my cheek.
“Dacey.” He says my name with such pain.
“Dacey.” Robyn opens the door. “Your parents are here.”
Vance’s face pales. “You called your parents.”
I try my best to hold my head up as I rush past him, but I drop it instead, and the tears roll down my cheeks.
In the foyer stands my parents with Vance’s next to them. Mrs. Pemberton’s eyes are red and Mum looks just as sad.
“Dacey.” Mr. Pemberton steps forward. “I apologize for my rudeness and everything.” He glances at Mrs. Pemberton, but I don’t really much care at this point.
“Okay.” I walk over to my father and stand beside him.
“I’d really like to be told about this evening events.” Dad speaks with a firm, cold tone. There’s one thing everyone knows about my dad; you don’t mess with him.
“Dacey found out something I hoped she wouldn’t.” Mrs. Pemberton speaks evenly and smoothly, keeping her composure.
“Which was?” Mum questions drips lethally. It’s a tone no one wants to hear. My father grabs Mum’s elbow, and I know it’s about to get bad real quick.
