“Oh. My ah…my brother is married to Sin.” The name doesn’t seem to spark a thread of recognition. “The lead singer of Daniel’s band,” I offer helpfully.
A statement that’s met with a scoff from the aunts and a chuckle from Daniel.
“Did you know that Daniel had a full-ride scholarship to MIT? A full ride that he just threw away like yesterday’s trash, to trapeze around the world like a traveling minstrel?”
I was expecting my association with Sin to kind of grease the wheels, which does not appear to be the case. “No, I didn’t know that.”
I’m so out of my depth here. My knowledge of Daniel is limited to late nights and stolen moments, and it’s becoming clear that maybe a family function isn’t the best place to excavate the recesses of his life.
“Different life, poppet.” He shrugs.
“Not so different,” Ming-Na counters. “It’s time you grow up, Daniel. Get a real job. Settle down with a nice woman.”
Her tone makes it clear that I’m not in the category of nice, and dammit if that doesn’t sting.
“Mom.” He bends so his face is level with hers, a boyish grin lighting his features. “I got this. Let it go. Tonight is about Nai Nai.”
“Happy you remember that much,” she snaps angrily, eyeing me.
Like a pin to a balloon, conversation erupts. The smile slips from Daniel’s face, and his answer comes in rapid-fire Mandarin. The four women around me seem to take his response as a challenge or, maybe worse, a declaration.
There’s a seismic shift within the group. The facade of niceties falls by the wayside and the proverbial claws come out. Foreign words that I have no hope of understanding have been sharpened to lethal points and now are being hurled with deadly intent.
“Ming-Na…” comes from a man that I have yet to meet but on sight recognize as Daniel’s father. It’s in the tone of voice and the color of those brown eyes that just kind of melt all over you. “Stop it.”
“How long are we supposed to ignore the foolishness that is our son? Mmm? We missed our chance to stop all this, Andrew.” She waves a hand absently. “Fifteen years ago, when you said he was going through a phase. Or ten years ago when his naked behind was plastered across tabloids literally caught in the act. And now he’s bringing these women—” She stops to rake me with a scathing look. “Into our home, to share a meal with our family. He’s gone too far this time.”
Ming-Na charges forward, roughly grabbing Daniel’s chin. “How about three years ago when my son was damn near killed at the whims of a crazy man. I listened to you then. I ‘stopped’ then. And look what it’s got us.”
Her words continue in unintelligible Mandarin, and I watch speechless as dark emotion moves like a rapidly approaching storm, dark and thunderous, over Daniel’s features.
“I’m sorry to ah… That I’m a disappointment,” he whispers, snatching his chin from her fingertips. I’d bet good money that come morning he’s going to have bruises on his jaw.
“Daniel. That’s not what I meant. All I’m saying is…”
“You have said more than enough, Ming-Na. Tonight is to celebrate a wonderful woman that we all love and know, not suspect, is in her last days. Shame on you.” Andrew’s voice is matter-of-fact, but an underlying tremor threads the words with emotion. “Both of you have embarrassed not only yourselves but our entire family with this scene. Let’s recover what little dignity we have left, grab plates, and get out there. Maybe try to remember the reason for this dinner in the first place.”
A weighted silence falls over the kitchen. It’s pierced periodically by a serving spoon tapping against a plate, or the hollowed sound of shoes moving across wood. The four of us dance around each other, the space inelegant and uncomfortable. As the peacekeeper in my family, I want to step in, soothe the ruffled feathers and bridge the gap between mother and son, but I have no place or purchase here. Ming-Na all but called me a groupie whore and his father has yet to acknowledge me at all.
I scoop a small portion of the rice and vegetables onto my plate, bypassing the barbequed beef for the sake of brevity. Less food equals quicker departure.
The dining room is brimming with people and conversation, and from the look on a couple of faces, it’s clear that they heard the entire exchange. I meet every gaze head on and take the closest seat, cloaking myself in a confidence that I barely feel.
Discomfort is a lump in my throat making it hard to taste and swallow the food, and I just want out of this house. Placing both hands on the table, I push back, sliding the chair against the tile.
“Stay, sweetheart.” I’d been so upset I hadn’t realized I’d taken one of the seats next to Daniel’s grandmother. Surely yet another strike against me. “My Daniel hasn’t brought anyone home in such a long time.”
I find his eyes across the table one seat down. Hearing the comment, he shrugs with an encouraging half smile. “Stay. Please,” he mouths.
With a slight nod I pull my chair back up to my plate. The atmosphere seems to have shifted yet again with his grandmother’s quietly spoken statement. Everyone dives into the food and conversation. Each seeming to recall a story about Nai Nai that gives me a vibrant picture of the woman she was and the role she played in shaping each person sitting around the table.
The plates are mostly empty when a large cake is carried out of the kitchen. Two glitter candles sit on top, informing all in attendance, in case they forgot, that Nai Nai is ninety years old. Eyes dimmed with age light up happily as Ming-Na carefully sets the cake down.
Everyone stands crowding around the head of the table, and I move to the edge of the group, taking some much-needed space and giving them room.
I start when a familiar arm curls around my waist, pulling me back into a solid chest. The smell of apples assaults my nose and I relax into Daniel. We join in singing happy birthday and laugh when his grandmother directs an uncle, I think, to blow out the candles.
“You ready to get out of here?” he says into my ear when the family starts to once again disperse to different corners of the house.
“Please.”
Daniel laces our fingers and with swift steps heads out the front door. There are no goodbyes and when the door closes behind us, he exhales, leaning against the surface.
He’s still, eyes searching the dark desert sky. I understand exactly where he is without words, having been in the same position with my own mother multiple times. There’s only so many excuses you can use to convince yourself that the behavior is warranted.
It’s clear, just like it’s with my mother, that love is the driving force. The delivery? Sucks.
“You mad?” He drops his eyes to mine, an apology shining in their depths. “My mom… She means well.” His eyebrows bunch in a frown. “It’s just that…”
“I get it. You know all about my mom.” A one-sided shrug raises my shoulders. “Plus, it was her first time meeting me.”
“Already signing up for more torture?” A self-deprecating laugh fills the air between us as he pushes off the door and reclaims my hand.
“The food was good. What can I say?” I offer flippantly.
Laughter erupts from his chest, loud on the quiet street. “Indeed, lady.”
Daniel starts walking, pulling me toward our cars. It’s a quick jaunt, but the farther I move from the house, the easier it is to breathe. The more I feel like us. My doors unlock with the closeness of my fob, illuminating the interior, and we stop just short of the driver’s side.
He pulls me forward with a hand at the back of my neck. “You coming by my place?” he whispers, his forehead dropping to mine.
I steal a quick kiss and sigh at the contact. “Have I been anywhere else for the last month?”
“You have. You’ve gone to work.” He drops a lingering kiss on my lips. “To the grocery store.” He curls my ponytail around his fist, l
ooking deeply into my eyes. “Don’t forget the gym.”
Daniel melds our mouths in an illicit kiss, igniting the passion that’s never too far from the surface. I saturate myself in him, nibbling at his lips, rubbing my tongue against his, drawing him in deeper.
He pulls back and we’re both breathing hard, heartbeats synced, breaths mingled. “Shit.” Daniel scans my face with a look brimming with emotion that hasn’t been expressed but that I recognize as a mirror of my own. Quietly, reverently he brushes my mouth with a much shorter kiss and whispers, “Let’s go.”
His arms fall away, and it takes a couple of seconds to get my feet moving toward my car. Playfully he swats my behind.
“Ow.” I toss him a look over my shoulder.
“You liked it,” he says, blowing me a kiss. I really did.
“Beat me home and there’s a lot more where that came from.”
“What if I don’t beat you home?” I don’t hear his answer because I’m already speeding down the street.
Chapter 27
Daniel
“Babe?" Jessie leans out the bathroom door, toothbrush hanging between her lips. “Sin wanted to confirm that I’d be at dinner tonight.”
Dammit . I’d received the same text and didn’t mention it because not telling her brother and Sin, and the rest of the band, about us is starting to become a bone of contention. Dinner with my family had been a disaster, so forgive me if I’m not keen to jump into the next catastrophe.
We’ve been good.
One might argue that we’ve been great.
Beautiful woman. Great conversation. Stellar sex. All the things that a growing boy or a disillusioned rock drummer needs. I keep telling her that nothing good can come of involving other people, and contrary to her experience, Jake is a real asshole.
“Cool. You going?” Unnecessarily agitated, I get off the bed and pull on a navy blue pair of sweats I’d discarded last night somewhere between sexy blow job and reverse cowgirl.
“Yeah…” she says softly. “I thought we could go together.” It’s hard to miss the hopeful tone in her words and I feel like an even bigger ass.
“I think I’ll pass on this one. It should be fun, though.” I walk to the kitchen and turn on the electric kettle. In the five minutes it takes for the water to boil, Jessie enters the room in a red designer suit that displays every lush curve to perfection and, ooh wee, high heels that make me reminisce about her naked, standing on tiptoes, bent over, taking me deep.
“You want a cup?” I pull two cups off the mug tree and busy myself pouring the water, adding the bags, retrieving the milk from the fridge and sugar from the pantry. I pour intense focus into the routine preparation, not making eye contact until I set the steaming cup of tea down in front of her.
There are a million questions in those hazel eyes. None of which I have an answer to.
Jessie takes a tentative sip, idly running a finger along the handle. I can feel the gathering storm and know it’s too late to take cover.
“Why aren’t you going this time?” Her tone is light, but those hazel eyes burn through me.
“You know why,” I answer in a defensive monotone, taking a large gulp of perfectly made green tea. I barely taste it. All the joy sucked out of the morning ritual by the argument simmering under the surface of this polite conversation.
“Refresh my memory. Is it because of my age or is it my brother this time?” She sets the cup down with a hard clink on the marble countertop, all pretenses gone.
We’ve been having some version of this conversation with increasing frequency for the last couple of weeks and I get it, I do. But I didn’t promise her forever, or tomorrow, or a ring on her finger, or a melding of our futures.
This is the longest relationship I’ve had in my adult life, if we can even call it that. For all I know, this is a two-month itch and things will soon go back to the status quo. Me with my rotation of women and her back to the tight buns and good ol’ Terry’s corny ass.
“Jessie, we need to figure out what we are before we go announcing it to the masses.”
“Says the man who had me all up and through his family’s house. I’m just trying to understand how it’s okay for me to meet your people but not okay to claim me in front of your friends.”
“Who said I’m claiming you?” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. “Jessie, I didn’t mean it. It’s just…”
“It’s fine, Daniel.” But the ramrod-straight spine and tight lips tell a decidedly different story. “I have to get to work anyway and I’m going to Jake and Sin’s place later.” The ‘without you’ is unspoken yet so loudly implied, I wince. “I’ll probably get in late. So, I’m going to stay at my place tonight.”
This whole conversation has gone all the way left and I have no idea how to recover the balance we had mere hours ago. How did we get here? I must have missed something significant because Jessie hasn’t stayed at her place in what feels like many moons. I know damn well she hasn’t been there since the night we hooked up after the El Dorado Cantina. It hasn’t mattered how late she gets off or what pressing plans she has the next day, which makes this whole situation even more ludicrous.
“Jessie…?” She won’t meet my eyes and that’s when I notice the duffel bag on the floor at her feet. “Are you kidding me right now?” She finally meets my gaze, her look giving pure fire and her demeanor giving ice.
“I just…” She bends, bracing a hand against the wall while she picks up the bag. “Need a breather.”
What in t-h-e fuck? “Meaning what exactly?” I want her to say the words, to articulate it so it takes shape and gains weight in my mind. From where I’m standing I’ve been ambushed American Sniper style. I walk around the counter to stand in front of her and she skirts around me, speed walking toward the door.
“Jessie…” I call to her retreating back, but she continues moving forward as if I hadn’t said a word. “Jessica…” I say again much louder, with way more aggression because her hand is poised, about to open the door, and somehow I know that if she walks out now, nothing will ever be the same.
Her head jerks up at the use of her full name and she half turns, giving me nothing but her side profile. “Yes, Daniel?”
“If you leave, don’t bother…” The threat falls on deaf ears because the door opens and quietly closes behind her.
I stand there for a minute stunned, which eventually turns to pissed. I said I wasn’t ready to comingle our friends…yet. The family didn’t really make hope spring eternal. If she can’t get behind that, she can get under it.
We’re not married. She doesn’t want to stay here, she doesn’t have to stay here. The disappearing act was a little toddler-esque. It drives home that she’s a little too young and maybe too naive to understand that sleeping together doesn’t make us anything more than bedfellows.
The club is loud, lights are flashing with the periodic laser beam streaking across the darkened interior. Everywhere, bodies move to fast EDM beats and the hangers-on are in full effect.
It’s been more than a month since I’ve gone out and tasted the Vegas nightlife, and to be honest, now that I’m here it’s lost some of its luster. It’s the same people. Doing the exact same thing.
Kristal, who I vaguely remember, was one of the first to saddle up to me in the VIP area. It didn’t take long before a couple of her girlfriends and a couple of their friends also joined us. Complimentary bottles and mixers line our table and the buzz that I’ve been so diligently working toward finally kicks in.
I still can’t believe she walked out the door. Maybe I was a dick, but I’m the guy who has dickish qualities. The fact that I acted as expected should not come as a surprise.
I sent a couple of funny text messages today, and nada. I tried to call her around the time she’d be getting off work and I went to voicemail. I was almost te
mpted—almost—to show up at Sin’s house for the stupid dinner just to prove a point. What point is that, might you ask? That I can’t be owned.
Not by my family. Not by my friends, and most certainly not by the intelligent beauty who occupies my dreams and dominates my thoughts. So what if she’s all I’ve been able to think about for over a month. Or that being inside her has scrubbed the memory of every other woman from my frontal lobe.
“Hey…” Kristal yells above the music to get my attention. “Why don’t we get out of here?”
“And go where?” I yell back.
She flips long red hair over her shoulder, giving me a clear shot at the ample cleavage on full display, and runs nails that look like red talons down my arm, clasping my hand and pulling me to a stand.
“Your place.”
Chapter 28
Jessica
“Hey, Jess, why don't you call it a night?” Terrence says, looking at me over the divider wall of my cubicle.
Daddy hadn’t been joking when he said I wasn’t going to get preferential treatment. There’s no executive office, no perks. My desk is in the bullpen like any other newly hired employee trying to prove their worth. I’m one of three financial analysts who work directly under the CFO, who just so happens to be a close family friend.
“I am.” I hit the button to turn off the computer. “I just wanted to finish up this file.”
He stands, waiting in the narrow walkway, and I barely contain the roll of my eyes. Terrence is everything a sensible levelheaded woman should want. His skin is the deep mahogany of tree bark after a spring rain. His teeth are straight and white and surrounded by full lips. The man is from a good family, well educated, and has a good job.
Unfortunately for both of us, I’ve never been interested in him as anything other than a friend. Now that we’re working for the same place in the same office, I have even less interest.
“Are you headed straight home, or do you have time to get a drink?” he asks, stepping back to give me room.
Exquisitely Yours: A Sin City Tale Page 20
