by Kasie West
“I think we’re being beckoned.” He winks at me with his word choice. I want to be playful back but I’m too nervous.
“Caymen,” Mrs. Dalton says. “I didn’t know you were coming. It’s so good to see you. I’m glad to see that Alex has worked his charm on you.”
“It was hard, Grammy. This girl wasn’t easy to sway.” He kisses my hand.
“Most things worth having aren’t.”
It might just be me, but that doesn’t sound like the response of someone who is mad her grandson is dating the help.
“You treat her nice or else.” She points at Xander with the warning.
“Aren’t you supposed to be saying that to her about me? I am your grandson, after all.” He bends over and kisses her cheek and whispers something that makes Mrs. Dalton laugh.
“What did you say to her?” I ask after we walk away.
“I told her that you are fully capable of giving and carrying out your own threats and you didn’t need additional bodyguards.”
“This is true.”
“I’m supposed to mingle for a little while before we sit down, but instead I will dance with you then we’ll find our table.”
“No.”
“You don’t want to dance with me?”
“No, I mean, sure, I’ll dance with you, but don’t pick tonight, your mom’s special night, to be the bad son. She’ll blame it on me.”
He laughs. “No, she won’t. My mom has actually commented recently about how much more responsible I’ve been. She attributes that to you.”
“I didn’t realize I was such a good influence on you, considering I’ve been the queen of irresponsibility lately.” According to my own mother.
“Come on, they’re playing our song.”
I listen for a minute. A live band in the corner is playing some classical piece, and as Lucas had mentioned there is no lead singer. “This is our song?”
“Well, it’s your band, remember? So really any song they play is ours.”
“So true.” Wearing heels makes me the perfect height to nuzzle against his neck. I unbutton the three buttons of his suit jacket and slide my hands inside to his back as we sway to the beat along with some other couples.
He starts making up ridiculous words to the song and singing them badly in my ear.
“You should grab a microphone. The band needs you.”
“What? You prefer the smooth voice of Tic?”
“Yes.”
He laughs. “Me, too.”
A woman’s voice cuts through our banter. “Hello again, Caymen.”
Xander stops and turns. “Mother.” He hugs her.
Then she surprises me with a hug of my own. Her hair is blond and styled. Her eyebrows are shaped to perfection, and she must get something injected into her skin to make it so smooth. “It’s good to see my son smiling so much. A smile looks good on him, don’t you think?”
“I call it his secret weapon.”
Xander furrows his brow. “You do?”
“Mostly in my head but sometimes behind your back.” I give Mrs. Spence a sideways glance. I’m being myself; hopefully she isn’t put off by sarcasm. She has a smile on her face so I think I’m safe.
Xander pulls me against his side. “Oh well, that explains a lot.”
“I just came by to say hello. I can’t stay, though. Someone has to run this event.” Then she trails a hand down my shoulder. “But let’s talk later, you and me. I’d love to get to know you better.”
I nod and smile even though I want to say, “That sounds like torture.”
As she leaves Xander takes my hand and pulls me close again, swaying with the music. “Now, not that I expect you to remember their names, but let me point out all of my family members.”
Not only does he start naming off a lot of people in the room, but he assigns a ridiculous short story to each. “And that,” he says, pointing across the room, “is my cousin Scarlett.”
“Ah, the doll.” I tilt my head. “Yes, she does look a lot like that doll.”
“Right?” He laughs, and it’s almost as if she knows we’re talking about her because not only does she see Xander, but she starts walking our way.
“Scarlett.”
She gives him a limp-looking handshake and then kisses the air by his cheek.
“This is Caymen.”
“Hello. I’ve heard so much about you.”
I give Xander a sideways look. Does he talk about me all the time? And what is the appropriate response to that statement? “Sounds like Xander needs to get out more if I’m the topic of interest.”
Scarlett offers a smile about as wide as her doll counterpart and then squeezes Xander’s bicep. “Did you see who your brother brought tonight?”
“No, we haven’t been over there yet.” Xander cranes his neck, obviously trying to scope out his brother’s date.
“Don’t if you can avoid it. Major Cinderella complex.”
Xander laughs. “Seriously? Lucas?”
“It doesn’t surprise me with where he goes to school.” She curls her lip.
Has Xander not told anyone in his family that I’m poorer than dirt? But if he had wouldn’t he try to cover up what Scarlett just said instead of sounding like he agrees with it?
“Anyway, good to meet you, Caymen, but Bradley just walked in and I have to go.”
We watch her walk away, and I wait for him to smooth things over now that she’s gone. Maybe say his cousin is a total stuck-up snob (which she obviously is). But he doesn’t. He offers me his elbow and says, “Let’s go sit.”
He leads me straight toward Lucas and I say, “I thought Scarlett said we should avoid them.”
“We can’t avoid them all night. It’s assigned seating and I’m hungry.”
“Caymen,” Lucas says, standing and giving me a one-armed hug. “I didn’t think you were coming tonight. You thought you’d give boredom a try after all?”
“Yeah, well . . .” I don’t even know what to say. I’m still in shock from what Xander and Scarlett just said.
He gestures to a girl on his right. “This is Leah.” Leah doesn’t stand but smiles up at me.
“Good to meet you.”
Xander pulls out a chair for me and I sit numbly.
“Where’s Samuel?” Xander asks, looking around. There are two name cards left at the now two empty seats.
“He’s on his way.”
Samuel arrives less than five minutes later, and like when Lucas and Xander saw each other at the airport, Xander and Samuel hug like they haven’t seen each other in ages. Lucas joins in. Next Samuel introduces his date and we exchange pleasantries.
“Samuel,” Xander says, putting a hand on my lower back. “This is Caymen Meyers.”
“The Caymen Meyers?” He smiles big and I’m struck by how different each of the brothers looks. Xander definitely got his dad’s darker looks and the others look fairer, like their mom.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Samuel says.
“I’m sorry.”
We all sit down, and Samuel holds up his empty glass and gestures for a passing server who comes and fills it. “So, Caymen, you’re related to the Meyers of SCM Pharmacy?”
I start to say no, but Xander beats me. “Yes, they’re her grandparents. They’re on the guest list tonight.” He looks around. “They haven’t arrived yet, but as soon as they do I will force Caymen to introduce me.”
Samuel continues, “My dad has a lot of respect for your grandfather. He says any man who can turn a profit like that on mid-level stores must be a genius. I’d like to pick the brain of a shrewd businessman like him myself.”
I’m too stunned to think. Is this why Xander’s family has been perfectly fine with me? He’s been pretending I’m rich?
Chapter 36
“I don’t have grandparents.”
Lucas and Xander laugh then Lucas says, “She says things with such a straight face, how do you know when she’s joking or not, Xander?”
Samuel smiles and then says, “I hadn’t realized the Meyers had any relatives living around here until Xander told me.”
Xander nods. “I didn’t realize either, but Grammy told me.”
None of this made any sense. Mrs. Dalton must be confused. Why did she think I was related to these super rich Meyers people? Just because we had the same last name?
I swallow hard and scan the tables around us. Then I eye the door, watching the people coming in. In a way I had been joking about not having grandparents. I do have them, two sets. I just don’t know them. My mom’s parents disowned her when she got pregnant with me, and my dad’s parents paid her to keep her mouth shut. I have the shrewdest grandparents in existence. Meyers is my mother’s last name, but it is a common one. My mom can’t possibly be related to the SCM Pharmacy Meyers. It’s just a coincidence. I stare at Mrs. Dalton from across the room. The sweet Mrs. Dalton smiles at me.
Everyone at the table is looking at me, and I realize someone must’ve asked a question. A hand squeezes my knee and I jump. I look down and follow the path of the hand up to Xander’s shoulder and then to his concerned eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“No . . . yes . . . I just need to use the restroom.”
“It’s through those doors and to the right.” He stands and points then kisses my cheek. “Don’t escape out the window or anything. We’re just about to get to the super boring part. You won’t want to miss it.”
I try to laugh but nothing comes out. The bathroom is a welcome relief, and I shut myself into one of the stalls and try to wrap my brain around what just happened. Xander thinks I’m rich. He thinks I come from a rich family. This is why his dad had no problem with me once he found out my name and his brothers act like I am their equal. A sob escapes and I muffle it with my hand.
“Rich boys are stupid,” I say, forcing myself to get angry because I can’t afford to be hurt right now. I still have to get home with my dignity.
I start to leave the bathroom and almost get a door to the nose when it flies open so fast I’m barely able to step out of the way.
“Sorry,” the girl says, rushing past me. She turns on the sink and starts scrubbing at a spot on her white button-up shirt. When I notice her black skirt I realize she must be on the waitstaff. She looks close to tears.
“Are you okay?”
“I just got red wine splashed on my shirt and I don’t think it’s going to come out.” She scrubs harder then reaches for the soap dispenser. “My boss will make me go home.”
“Wait. Don’t use soap. Here, I have something.” I reach into my purse and pull out a little bottle of peroxide solution. We don’t get a lot of stains on the dolls in our store, but every once in a while a little kid with sticky hands or a coffee drinker will do some damage. This solution is a miracle worker. I dab some on her shirt and then blot it with a cloth towel from the counter. “See, look at that. Magic.”
She inspects it and then pulls me into a hug. Probably realizing she shouldn’t maul guests, she pushes away from me with a red face. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . Thank you so much.”
“It’s just a bottle of stain remover.”
“Well, I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
She looks down at her clean shirt one last time. “I better get back.”
“You better.”
She leaves and I lean against the tiled wall. Her “crisis” distracted me for a moment, but it didn’t erase what is waiting outside the door.
I have to get out of here. I can’t face Xander when I tell him the truth. I head back to the ballroom and nearly trip over a lady with a headset in the hall holding a clipboard.
I start to walk around her but then stop. “Are you the event planner?”
She smiles like she is obviously trained to do to guests, but I see the obvious signs of stress behind her eyes. She probably thinks I have a complaint. “Yes, can I help you?”
“Xander Spence said my grandparents are here and I can’t find them. Could you tell me which table they’re sitting at? Meyers.” I point to her clipboard as if she doesn’t know where the seating arrangements are located.
“Of course.” She flips through the pages, runs her fingers over a sheet, and then says, “Ah. Here they are. Table thirty. I’ll point it out to you.”
“Thank you.”
It feels like I’m walking underwater. My legs move in slow motion; my head pounds with pressure. Once inside I back up against the nearest wall and she follows suit.
“They’re right there. She’s in the turquoise top. Do you see her?”
I follow the line of her finger to the lady in turquoise. “Yes. There she is. Thanks.”
“No problem.” The event planner walks off quickly, probably responding to the tiny voice I heard yelling in her ear.
Their backs are to me, but the woman in turquoise has shoulder-length dark hair and the man next to her, a distinguished silver. I stay on the edge of the room and walk slowly around, waiting for the moment when I will see their faces. I finally do. I wait to get hit with instant recognition, with a feeling, but nothing happens. A small amount of weight lifts from my shoulders.
The woman looks up and we lock eyes. She gets the look on her face that adds the weight plus another two tons of it back on: recognition. Her mouth forms the word “Susan.” I can see that all the way across the room where I stand. My face burns to see my mom’s name on her lips.
Mrs. Dalton wasn’t confused. These Meyers are my grandparents.
The woman grabs on to her husband’s forearm and he looks at her in confusion. I don’t wait to see how that plays out. I spin on my heel to make a beeline for the door—but run straight into Xander’s chest.
“There you are. The appetizers just arrived at the table. It’s caviar and crackers with some sort of Greek salad. Do you like caviar?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had it before.” What he had said earlier today about my mom being extreme and the “living-above-the-doll-store thing” hits me. He thinks my mom has done this on purpose. To show me how the other half lives. And I’m just now realizing that in a way she has. My mom grew up rich. This is why she knows way more than she should about the ins and outs of wealthy living. My mom . . .
She lied to me. My life is a lie. No. Her life is a lie. Mine is the truth. We are broke. We are living breath to breath. One extra bit of oxygen consumed could be the ruin of our store.
“What’s wrong? What have I done?” Xander asks.
I must be shooting death rays because I’m so angry. “You only liked me because you thought . . .” I can’t even finish the sentence. I’m too angry. Not just at him. At everything. At my mom, the situation, the grandparents I don’t even know. “I have to go.”
I whirl around in time to see another familiar face standing there. One I don’t care to see. Robert. Seeing his face makes me wish I had poured soda on it last time.
Xander has grabbed my elbow. “Wait. Talk to me.”
“I don’t think I ever caught your name,” Robert says.
“I never gave it,” I growl.
“Where is your boyfriend tonight? Mason, right? He’s a really good singer.”
Xander’s hand on my elbow tightens. “Robert, now is not a good time.”
“I just saw her at the concert last week. I hadn’t realized she and Mason were together.”
“We’re not,” I say.
“What do you mean?” Xander drops his hand from my arm.
“They were all over each other.”
“No. We weren’t.” Out of the corner of my eye I see my grandmother about to reach us. “I have to go.”
“Caymen.” Xander’s eyes look hurt, but I’m hurt as well. Too hurt to think. Too hurt to defend myself against his jerk of a friend. I just need to leave.
And I do.
Chapter 37
I have competing feelings battling for my attention as I walk i
nto the store. One is the extreme amount of anger I feel toward my mom for lying to me my whole life about everything. The other feeling is an intense broken heart that makes me want to rush into my mother’s arms and tell her she was right about rich guys and I need her to make my hurt go away.
She’s sitting like a statue behind the cash register, like she’s been waiting for me. The lights are off with only a few glowing shelves. The look on her face is almost as lifeless as the dolls that surround her.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’ve been unfair.”
“They were there tonight,” I croak. My throat still hurts.
“Who?”
“Your parents.”
Shock, followed by devastation, makes her face crumple, and she leans her head onto the counter in front of her. I’m too busy feeling sorry for myself to feel bad for her. I walk by her, up the stairs, and into my room, making sure to shut the door firmly.
I’ve seen lots of broken dolls in my life. Some with damage as small as a missing finger but others with dislocated limbs or cracked skulls. None of that compares to how broken I feel right now. It’s my own fault. I always knew he was part of an entirely different species. Why did I let myself think I could be a part of that?
I change out of my clothes and into some sweats then curl up on my bed and finally let the tears that have been building up inside my head come out in heaving sobs.
There’s a small knock on my door and I ignore it. It doesn’t stop her from coming in. Why would it? She obviously has no respect at all for my feelings. I push back the tears again and try to control my breathing. She sits on the bed behind me.
“There’s really no good explanation as to why I kept my parents’ identity from you. I guess maybe a small part of me thought you would want their lifestyle. That I couldn’t give you enough and you’d go look for them for what you thought you were missing.”
If she had just left me alone I could’ve kept it in, but the fire in my throat is ready to spew out. “Why did you leave them?” I push myself to sitting. “What did they do?”
“Caymen, no. They did kick me out. Disown me. I was always honest about that. But I’m sorry. I truly am. I could’ve been more open. I was angry and hurt and prideful toward my parents. I didn’t give them a chance to make amends even had they wanted to. I just disappeared.”
