Changes and Chocolates: Untouchable Book Two

by Long, Heather

  “Do you know where you’re going?”

  “My mom said Rosewood. The reservation is for seven.”

  “That’s all the way on the edge of Fort Worth.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “And exclusive,” Archie commented with a wry twist of his mouth. “Edward’s going all out.”

  “Well, I told them I’d meet them. So I’m kind of hoping they’re not at the house.”

  “Wanna give me your extra key in case I need to check on the cats for you tonight?” Coop offered, and I twisted to look at him.

  “Will you?”

  “Not a problem. I don’t want you worrying about them.”

  “You guys probably think I’m being stupid. They’re cats, they’ll be fine if I just leave them water and food. Mom made me lock them in my room this morning, so I moved the litter box, but…”

  “It’s not stupid,” Archie told me, one hand on my thigh. “Seriously, Frankie, you love your cats. You’re allowed to worry and right now, there’s a lot about this situation that makes me uncomfortable. The thing with your cats is not it.”

  “Nope, you love the little furballs. So grab the key and give it to me, and I’ll swing by. Then if you skip out and stay at Archie’s tonight, I’ll sneak in and make sure they’re okay.”

  “Thank you.” When we got to the apartments, the very first thing I did once we were out of the car was to hug Coop. He wrapped me up in a firm, if gentle hug. I didn’t care about the heat or the mugginess.

  Coop cupped the back of my head and rubbed a hand between my shoulder blades as I pressed my face to his throat. I sighed, leaning there for a long moment.

  “Take all the time you need,” Archie said. “I mean, I don’t mind standing here, all by myself, not getting hugged for being a superhero like Coop because he promised to take care of your pussy.”

  There was an absolute beat of silence, then Coop snickered and I couldn’t stop the laughter welling up.

  “You are awful,” I told Archie as I turned my head, but didn’t pull away from Coop.

  Archie met my gaze with a grin. “I am, but then I like taking care of your pussy, singular or plural.”

  Giggling, I held onto Coop, and he chortled.

  “Keep it up, I can stand here and hold her all night.”

  “You’d do it, too,” Archie commented, sounding more amused than anything. And as tempting an offer as that might be, I wanted some downtime before we had to deal with our parents, and Archie and I should talk. We really hadn’t had time to discuss the latest without others around, and he seemed to be as guarded about it as I was—at least, I thought he was. Maybe he talked to the guys when I wasn’t there.

  In fairness, he might be avoiding saying unkind things about my mom to my face.

  Not that I could fault him for the unkind things or the not wanting to say them to my face. It wasn’t like I wanted to call his father creepy to his face. Especially not when I could see how much Archie looked like him.

  Shoving that uncomfortable thought away, I gave Coop another squeeze before pulling back and doing a quick search of the parking lot. Archie wrapped his hand around my nape and massaged it gently.

  “He’s not here. I don’t see any of his cars.”

  Relief spilled through me. Mom’s car was absent, too.

  “Don’t worry,” Archie said. “You do not have to deal with them on your own.”

  I was not a coward, but this morning was just another example of how bad this could get for everyone. Mom did not handle it well when things went sideways. Everything about this situation could go sideways.

  After getting the key, Coop gave me a light kiss before glancing past me to Archie. “Take care of her.”

  “I intend to,” he said, just the barest hint of irritation in his voice. Then Coop gave me another kiss ahead of leaving. I closed the door behind him and leaned against it. Archie stood in the middle of my living room, hands in his pockets for a beat before abruptly turning on his heel and heading down the hallway to my room. The door opened, and Tory streaked out into the living room and bounded from the coffee table to the back of the sofa where she stared at me, tail lashing.

  When I reached the bedroom, he stared at the dress on the door and I leaned against his back. Closing my eyes, I just took a deep breath and hugged him from behind. With his hands over mine, he said, “We can cancel going out with them.”

  “It will just make it worse,” I told him.

  “I’m pretty sure your mother slapping you so hard she left a mark is already worse.” The lightness in his tone was deceptive. “You don’t want to talk about it. I know. You don’t want to discuss that she hurt you, and I’m pretty sure she has before. I get it. Your mom is off limits, but hurting you is not okay.”

  “She isn’t abusive abusive,” I said, fumbling for a defense. “Saying she hits me is like accusing her of something.”

  The conversation was easier if I didn’t look in his eyes. Did that make me a coward?

  “There’s all kinds of abuse, Frankie.” The stroke of his thumb against the back of my hand soothed. “Will you let us—let me in so I can help?”

  When I went to pull away, he caught my hand and turned. Archie frowned.

  “I know I’m pushing. Coop is right, you need to be pushed on this.”

  “It’s going to be hard enough going to that dinner tonight. Hard enough because you don’t think it’s real, do you? The engagement?”

  “I think Edward’s playing a game.” He shrugged. “Getting engaged while you’re still married isn’t exactly stellar planning. But that’s their problem. Not ours.”

  “Except it is my problem. I’m all my mom has. I’m… I’m the one who has to pick up the pieces.”

  He sighed. “You know our parents are supposed to take care of us, not the other way around, right?”

  If we had Ian’s parents, we would have that. Or if we had Coop’s mom or Jake’s. Their dads weren’t great, but they weren’t awful, awful, even if Coop really didn’t like his and Jake remained pissed at his.

  “Yeah? So why did we get the short end of the stick?”

  “I have no idea,” Archie admitted, then tugged me in close. “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired. Achy. Kind of dreading tonight, but we have to go.”

  He sighed. I knew he didn’t get it. Maybe none of them would. But it had just been me and Mom forever. They had extended families, but we only had each other. She wasn’t perfect.

  “I wish…” But I couldn’t.

  “What do you wish?”

  “I wish it could be real for her. That she could be happy.” Then when I went to college, I wouldn’t have to worry about her. “But that’s not fair to you.”

  “Not really fair to you either.” He trailed his fingers down to my wrist, then traced the bracelet I’d worn. I didn’t wear it every day, but like his shirt, I’d needed the comfort today.

  Blowing out a breath, he said, “Okay, I brought clothes to change into so I’m going to go grab those. Take a shower, do what you can to relax and get ready. Can I get you anything?”

  He was being so solicitous, and I tilted my head back. “You here is pretty great.”

  A wink, and he pressed a light kiss to my lips. “Does anything else make the cramps better?”

  I made a face. We were not having this conversation.

  “Hey, it’s a thing that happens and if you’re going to be uncomfortable, I’d like some clues on how to fix it.”

  “Well, not talking about it is a good start, and heating pads help, sometimes just making myself relax.”

  “Got it. Want me to feed the cats on my way to the car?”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I want to,” he insisted. “Go take care of you, let me take care of everything else.”

  The guys didn’t usually coddle me. I’d never really needed coddling. Or maybe, more accurately, I’d never wanted coddling. I’d always just wanted to be one of them. But t
hey’d all been coddling me today in different ways, and I kind of liked it—a little.

  “Thank you, Archie.”

  The next hour passed by too quickly. I got my shower in and changed into a simple black dress, ignoring the purchase hanging on my door. It looked like a designer brand name, and it was just weird that his dad bought me a dress.

  Archie dressed in a nice button down and slacks, he’d added a tie but skipped the jacket. “I can put it on when we get there.”

  “That’s pretty dressy.”

  “Rosewood requires a jacket and tie for dinner service,” he advised. Oh, that sounded terribly formal.

  “I’m going to hate this place.”

  “Probably,” he said. “But the food is good.”

  “Should I leave the cats out?”

  “We can call Coop if you need to shut them back in. For now, let them have their apartment back.” He trailed his fingers down my arm. “You know, you could have left them in your room last night. They would have been okay.”

  “It wasn’t just about leaving them, if I’d slipped out—Mom would have been pissed and it would have been a thing.”

  Maybe even worse than it had already been.

  “And this is my home. I’m supposed to be safe here, right?”

  “Yeah. You are.”

  We texted the guys that we were on the way, and Coop said to let him know about the cats. The drive ended up being nice, even though it took us an hour to get there, it was nice just to sit with Archie. We listened to music, he held my hand, and I managed to relax a little. Not that it helped because as soon as we pulled up to the valet, my stomach was in knots all over again.

  Archie pulled on his suit coat before he interlaced our fingers and guided me inside. “We’re joining Edward Standish,” he told the hostess.

  Apparently, they had already arrived because we were shown to the table where the hostess and another waiter hurriedly added another place setting. It had only been set for three.

  “Edward. Ms. Curtis,” Archie said in a cool, brisk tone like this happened to us all the time. When I would have let go of him, he tightened his grip, keeping me firmly next to him until the new place setting was arranged, then he pulled my chair out, putting me on the far side away from my mom and his father.

  “Archie,” his father said with a frown while Mom shot me a reproachful look. “I wasn’t aware you’d been invited.”

  “Well gosh, Edward, I’d have thought a family man like yourself would want to tell your son about your wedding plans—or maybe your divorce plans, or are you doubling up and getting a two for one?”

  Oh boy.

  “Good evening,” our waiter said before his father could respond. He set two wine glasses on the table for Mr. Standish and my mom, then filled them before leaving the bottle in a chilling bucket. “What can I get you two to drink?”

  Archie cut a look at me. “Coke or tea?”

  “Coke.” Hopefully that would settle the fresh knots in my stomach.

  “Make that two,” Archie told the waiter. “And a farmer’s green salad for Frankie and a crab cake, she and I can share.”

  “Of course, would you care to order your appetizers?” The waiter looked at our parents, but his father merely shook his head, and my mother reached for her wine glass. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Then the waiter was gone.

  “Archie, you weren’t invited to this dinner, but since you’re here, you could at least have the grace to show the manners you were raised with.”

  “Manners, those are more Muriel’s purview,” Archie said as he leaned back and put a hand on the back of my chair. The brush of his thumb between my shoulder blades helped. “You’ve always been the guy who wants to cut through the bullshit.”

  Mr. Standish scowled. “Don’t make this a scene. I can just as easily cut you off.”

  “Sure, go ahead. I don’t need your money. You forget, Grandfather still likes me.” Archie smiled as though he could have said more, but he didn’t, and the waiter returned with our drinks and a salad. Archie motioned for him to put it in front of me. “Go ahead and dig in, I know you’re starving, and it could be a while before we get to the main course.”

  If we got that far…

  He didn’t actually say it, but it came across loud and clear.

  “The crab cake will be out directly, would you like me to go over the specials?”

  I took a sip of my Coke as Archie and his father glared daggers at each other. Well, more like Archie’s dad glared at him and Archie wore a smirk. The knots in my gut had knots, and they were all doing a tug-of-war.

  “Maybe that would help,” my mother said a moment before her foot impacted mine.

  I managed to not snort my drink and set it down. “Yes, please.”

  As the waiter went over the specials, my mother tapped a finger against the table. She was ticked. I was spoiling her evening. Guilt vied with a bit of vindictiveness. Maybe I shouldn’t be trying to get even, but I sure as hell hadn’t asked for this.

  Nothing the waiter listed sounded like real food. It all sounded too fancy for words, and you couldn’t pay me to eat duck foie gras. Steak tartare was basically raw meat. The minute he mentioned charred octopus, I was pretty sure my appetite checked out.

  Nope.

  Nope.

  And oh my god, no.

  “The scallops are good,” Archie said. “We could split a plate of those and either the wagyu steak or the venison loin. Trust me, you’ll like them.”

  I did trust him. “That sounds great.”

  One by one, we gave our orders, Archie and I would be splitting the plate between us. Another server brought out the crab cake, and I unfolded my napkin—a black one, they’d replaced the white napkin with a black one since I had on a black dress—and picked up a fork. Maybe if I stuffed food in my mouth, I could continue to avoid this dreadfully uncomfortable situation.

  After the waiter left, my mother pinned a look on me. “What happened to the lovely dress Eddie left for you to wear?”

  “Maddy,” ‘Eddie’ said, and I did not gag on my food.

  “It was a little too much lace,” I admitted. And white. A lot of white. Even if I hadn’t taken it out of the clear plastic bag. “I had this dress, and it’s nice enough.” Then I took another bite because I didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Besides, Edward shouldn’t be buying Frankie clothes, Ms. Curtis. It’s weird. He does that for his mistresses, not for his family. I know he doesn’t do it for his wife.”

  Oh. I was going to die.

  “For the love of God, Archie…” Mr. Standish went red, and his mouth compressed.

  “Yeah, we don’t do that in our house, Edward. You taught me that a long time ago. The only commandments we have are do unto ourselves what we wanna do.”

  “Archie.” My mom waded into this morass and I stared down at the salad, uncertain of whether to laugh or to cry. This was a train wreck. I wasn’t even driving the train, I was hanging off the back of it debating whether I should jump. “I understand this is probably difficult for you.”

  “Nope, Ms. Curtis,” Archie said, perfectly polite, and the hand he had at my back moved as he shifted to sit forward, and then that hand found mine in my lap and gripped it. “You’re not his first mistress. You’re not even the first one I’ve met. Not really difficult at all. What is difficult is being polite to you after you slapped Frankie around and treated her like crap. What is difficult is being respectful when you threaten her, abandon her, and generally make her feel like it’s her job to suffer in order for you to be happy.” He picked up his drink then motioned from Mom to his dad. “This? This is a phase. Trust me, he can’t afford the divorce.”

  Silence crashed down over the table, and I stuffed another bite of salad in my mouth. It probably cost twenty dollars. It probably tasted fantastic, but I barely noticed it as I paused only long enough to take a drink of the Coke and wash it down. My nails had to be digging into Archie’s han
d.

  “I didn’t want to do this over dinner,” Mr. Standish said after a protracted silence while my mother drilled a glare into me. I didn’t dare look at her. Maybe I shouldn’t have let Archie say anything. On the other hand, I didn’t disagree with him. “But since you’ve left me little choice…” The older man let out a long-suffering sigh. “Your mother is relocating to France for the next year. We are taking this time to get our affairs in order.”

  Archie raised his brows. “Relocating and getting affairs in order isn’t a divorce, Edward. You two lived apart for two years when I was six and another year when I twelve. The revolving door of women has never actually stopped swinging. Maybe if you settled that down, she’d want to live with you.”

  “And maybe I don’t want to live with her any longer. Maddy and I have been together for nearly a year now.”

  A year?

  I stared at my mother.

  I swore she smirked.

  “In her absence, I’m moving Frankie and her mother into the house. You two are about to become siblings, but you’re more than old enough to handle the change.”

  My stomach bottomed out.

  “You do realize that house belongs to Muriel,” Archie reminded him. “Not that I mind Frankie moving in. Plenty of room in my wing.”

  “Your mother isn’t going to be living there. Maddy will be. I expect you to get your act together. You don’t mind being cut off? Then you can be the one who moves out,” Mr. Standish said.

  “You know what. That’s a great idea. I even know an apartment that’s about to be available.”

  Archie glanced at me.

  “Wanna be roomies?”

  “Enough,” Mr. Standish said as he slapped his hand against the table. “This dinner was about making sure Frankie understood the opportunities now available to her, and for me to welcome them to the family, not for you to work out your juvenile temper tantrum.”

  “Sure thing. Frankie, you wanna be my sister?”

  I stared at him. “No.”

  “Yeah, me neither. Step-sister or not, I’m not feeling it.” He looked at his dad. “Anything else we need to cover?”

  “Frankie,” my mother said, standing abruptly. “Come with me.”