Stealing the Bride

by Lee, Nadia

  Part of me wants him to. I’ve brought my exes to dinner before many times, but Dad’s attitude on Monday makes me hesitate. “No, it’s okay.”

  Court opens his mouth, then closes it with a frown.

  I feel bad about turning him down, because he’s just trying to help. So I promise to come by after dinner.

  As I park my car and walk into my family’s home, I can’t decide if I made the right decision. Yes, Dad was weird about me and Court on Monday, but why should Court have to pay a price for that? If Dad hadn’t said what he said, I would’ve definitely brought him. Not just for support, but why shouldn’t he come with me when my exes did? He’s worth a hundred Toms.

  Argh.

  Curie and Joe are already in the living room, showing their tablet screen to Mom. Curie jumps up when she sees me. “Pascal!”

  “Curie! You look amazing!” And she does. The light tan highlights her aquamarine eyes more, and she’s positively glowing.

  We hug. Joe and I exchange a hug also. He’s sunbaked as well, and I swear he’s smiling even more now than before. Marriage must be good for both of them.

  I sit on Mom’s left, and Curie takes the right, Joe parking himself beside her. It’s a little tight, but we all fit on the couch. I put an arm around Mom’s shoulders and squeeze.

  “How you’ve been?” Mom says.

  What exactly is she asking? About my job hunting or just my general well-being? I can’t tell, so I just tilt my flat palm to left and right with a small shrug. “So what are you looking at?” I ask, turning the topic away from me.

  Mom smiles. “Curie and Joe were just showing me some photos from their honeymoon. Look. They’re incredible.” And then she adds in a stage whisper, “They’re so in love.”

  Joe beams.

  Mom shifts the screen closer and shows me the pictures. Curie and Joe are both very photogenic. One in particular catches my attention. Curie and Joe are sitting side by side on a low wooden platform over the pristine sea of the Maldives, their legs dangling off the edge. The tips of Joe’s toes brush the water, and a gray-brown bungalow squats behind them on pylons. It looks like heaven—and just the most perfect place for a couple in love.

  “Is this where you stayed?” I ask, tilting the screen so they can see it.

  “Yeah. You should go,” Curie says. “It’s amazing. The floor has a huge glass panel in it, and you can see the fish and coral and everything. It’s pricey, but worth every penny.”

  “Yup,” Joe says. “But don’t freak out like her if you see a shark swimming below.”

  Given how strong an impression Jaws left on my sister, I can just imagine her reaction to a destination rife with man-eating marine creatures.

  “It was huge!” Curie spreads her arms as far as she can. “Haven’t you seen the movies? Sharks can break through glass.”

  “Only in Ocean Hollywood.” He kisses her on the forehead. “Don’t worry. If one breaks through, I’ll save you from its humongous, ravenous maw.” Then he mouths over her head, Baby shark, while holding his hands about a foot apart.

  I grin at their obvious affection and bond. I wonder if they knew this was where they were headed when they first met in high school, and if this could be me and Court somewhere down the road. The thought is startling; I never daydreamed about anything like that with any of my exes. It was always just me and my career. Making a name for myself…making Dad proud.

  Just then, Dad comes out from his office. There’s no mistaking his heavy step.

  Tension sneaks up my spine, all the way up to the base of my skull. I keep smiling so as not to wreck the evening. I hope he understands why—and goes along with it—rather than trying to ruin the family time by bringing up our unpleasant conversation in front of everyone. If he wants to talk about it, we can do that privately.

  He looks around. “Fantastic, everyone’s here.” He looks exceptionally jovial, even when his eyes skim over me. It’s as though Monday never happened. Then he stops. “Where’s Court?”

  Really? No “I’m so glad you decide to come”? No “How’s everything?” “He had something to do today.”

  Faint disappointment crosses Dad’s face, and it’s all I can do not to shake my head. It’s petty and small of me, but now I’m glad I didn’t bring Court. If Dad isn’t happy to see me without a man…then that’s his problem, not mine, and I’m not going to cater to his medieval needs.

  “Oh, that’s a shame. I made extra because I thought he was coming,” Mom says. “I hope he can join us for your promotion celebration, though. I’m planning to bake your favorite double chocolate chip cookies and cake, unless you want something different?”

  My vision blurs for a second. “My what?”

  Shifting his weight ever so subtly, Dad looks away. And then I realize he hasn’t told Mom. Curie and Joe are looking at me like this is awesome.

  Fury and resentment surge inside me. Dad lives with Mom. He should’ve said something by now. I breathe in, taking a moment to calm myself. “Well, I guess it’s up to me to make the announcement,” I say, slowly and evenly. “There’s not going to be any promotion. I quit.”

  Mom, Curie and Joe stare at me for a moment. They’re wearing identical expressions—slightly open mouths, wide eyes, their necks slightly forward. Joe shakes his head. “This isn’t some kind of April Fools’ joke, is it?”

  Curie looks utterly bewildered. “But why? You love that place.”

  My gaze slides toward Dad, who is standing apart from the scene like he isn’t the cause of the whole mess. Bitterness like I’ve never known coats my tongue. “I did. Still do.” The relationship I had with SFG was long, almost as long as my life. Realizing that I’m not gonna be part of it anymore is like cutting off a piece of myself.

  “Did you get a better offer somewhere?” Joe asks.

  Dad scowls at his shoes. He almost looks uncomfortable. But does he feel terrible about ruining my dream?

  Normally, I’d say something to smooth things over. But not today. I shake my head at Joe.

  “What happened?” Mom demands, looking at me, then Dad.

  “Yes, Dad. What happened?” I say, feeling slightly petty and irritated that he hasn’t said anything to anyone, not even Mom.

  He clears his throat. But he doesn’t speak, as though his silence is going to satisfy Mom.

  Since he isn’t going to talk about it, I step up. I can’t decide if I should be happy or mad that he seems ashamed of what he did on Monday. “Dad blocked my promotion this year—again. Basically, if I stay at SFG, I’m never going to get promoted. I recently learned that some of the managers thought I should’ve been promoted after my first year.” I swallow, the hurt rippling again. Dad should’ve been the one on my side. Member number one on Team Pascal.

  Mom turns to Dad. “Darling?”

  He doesn’t meet her gaze. “She needs more experience.” He rubs the back of his neck.

  Bull-fucking-shit. Outrage bubbles. That’s no reason to keep me unpromoted and unrecognized for years. He knows that, and everyone else under this roof does too. “No,” I say coldly, my voice shaking with bitter disappointment and anger. “You thought I should just give up. You think I should just get a man who can take care of me.”

  He draws himself tall and straight. His eyebrows pinch together, two deep lines appearing between them. “What father wants his daughter to work like a dog? Financial services is very stressful.”

  “I love that job,” I say harshly. “I love investing people’s money, helping them plan for the future and save for retirement.”

  “Steve.” Mom’s hands flutter around, as though she isn’t quite sure what she should do with them. “You know why we named the girls the way we did.”

  “We?” He pats his chest with an open hand. “I wanted nice, normal names. Not some scientist or mathematician. My top choices were Molly and Emma.”

  “But you agreed mine were better when I told you why.”

  He sets his mouth in a mulish li
ne. So like him to get stubborn when he’s backed into a corner. I don’t know why I never noticed that about him until now.

  Mom continues, “I don’t want them to live up to some social expectation that the girls should just be pretty and get married and have babies. I want them to do what they want.”

  Thank you, Mom.

  “It isn’t like Pascal never wants to get married,” he says.

  He’s so set in his ways that he can’t see how illogical he’s being. “How is that mutually exclusive with my wanting a career or make my own way in the world?” I ask. “I can have more than one thing in life, Dad.”

  “So what are you going to do now? Business school, maybe?” he demands.

  After taking a few breaths to control my temper, I say, “I’m sending out résumés and reached out to people I know. I’m waiting to hear back.”

  “And…?”

  I cross my arms. I haven’t forgotten him telling me to spend time with Court. I’ve been doing that, and it isn’t because of Dad’s wish, but because I want to. But I’ll be damned if I let him know. That’ll only make him smug, and I don’t think I can control my temper if he starts acting superior on top of everything else. “And that’s it.”

  “It’s not easy to get a job. Matter of fact, it’s damned hard,” Dad says.

  Would it kill him to say something supportive, like “good luck”?

  “I’m sure you’ll find exactly what you’re looking for,” Mom says.

  “I agree,” Curie adds.

  Joe starts to nod, then notices the dark scowl on Dad’s face and bends down to scratch Nijinsky’s belly. Smart man. I don’t want Joe put in an uncomfortable situation because of me. Dad can be petty, and upsetting him right after the wedding wouldn’t be a smart move.

  “That’s what you think.” Dad looks disgusted for a moment, then snorts. “You don’t know what it’s like. She has a huge hole in her résumé, too.” I inhale sharply, incredulous he’s making it sound like it’s somehow my shortcoming that put the wasted four years at SFG there.

  “What hole?” Mom says.

  Shit. Her eyes are flashing, and she’s showing her teeth in that threatening way of hers. I didn’t come here to have my parents fight over me. “Mom, don’t worry about it.”

  But even as I tell her to calm down, Dad’s smugness really bothers me. It’s almost like he’s convinced that I’m going to fail no matter what I do. But how can he know that for sure? He has no clue where I applied or who I contacted. Even if he did, calling around and asking people not to hire me would make him look weird. That just seems so beneath him.

  On the other hand, I didn’t expect him to actively sabotage me at SFG. I’m obviously not the best judge of character—at least not where my father’s concerned.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Court

  Propping my feet on the coffee table in my penthouse, I wonder how things are going with Skittles and her family. I offered to go with her, but she turned me down, probably because her dad said that the only thing she’s good for is getting married and having babies.

  Even though I understand her wanting to deal with her caveman dad on her own, it doesn’t mean I’m cool with it. Part of me resents Steve for putting such a weird wedge between us, making it impossible for me to shield her.

  At least she isn’t going to be alone…although, for all I know, her family could be ganging up on her now. I got good vibes from Esther, but it was only for a couple of hours, when we were trying to get to know each other. She married Steve, didn’t she? She might share the same opinion he does, might even give Skittles a hard time for wanting more. And what about Curie? She might side with her dad. She’s already fulfilled half of Steve’s “marry and make babies” vision. And her brand-new husband Joe is going to side with her, unless he’s an idiot. He didn’t look like an idiot in Maui, even though he was a slow runner.

  Maybe I should’ve insisted on going with Skittles anyway, and done my best to deflect any attacks against her. That way—

  Nate lets out a loud groan. “Oh, come on! How can you win again?” He throws his cards down on the coffee table in disgust.

  Yuna gives him a smug smile. “Mad Go Fish skills, man. Mad skills.”

  “You know that there’s no skill involved in Go Fish, right?” I say. “It’s all luck.”

  She gives me a cool look. “Then explain how he hasn’t won a single game.” She raises a hand, four fingers spread. “Four games in a row.”

  “Maybe you cheated,” Nate says. He’s not usually competitive, but four straight losses are probably bugging him.

  She goes all Madame Butterfly on him, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. That’s a danger sign. Yuna doesn’t do that unless she’s trying to flirt with you…or kill you.

  “How?” she asks. “You shuffled and dealt the cards.”

  “She has a point,” Ivy says from the couch she’s sharing with Tony. “Unless you gave her the best cards on purpose.”

  “Why would I do that?” Nate asks.

  “I don’t know.” Ivy shrugs. “Maybe you’re in love with her?”

  I cough, a laugh caught in my throat. Nate looks at her like she’s lost her mind. And I have to agree. Nate loves women, but is never in love with them.

  “Are you, Nate darling?” Yuna’s eyelashes are fluttering faster.

  He scowls. “My heart is impervious. An impregnable castle.”

  I roll my eyes at his dramatic and superior tone.

  Yuna sniffs. “One of these days, some woman’s going to bring you to your knees, and you’re going to lick dirt off the ground she walks upon.”

  He shudders. “Gross.”

  Yuna and Ivy chortle, while Tony merely smiles. I snort a laugh. Nate is fastidious. Even if the ground were covered with flecks of gold, he wouldn’t put his mouth anywhere close to it.

  “Can we order something to eat? I’m starving,” Ivy says, placing a hand over her belly. “Unless Court is cooking?”

  Nate blanches. “Definitely not. I want to live.”

  I pluck a Kleenex from the table next to me, wad it up and throw it at him. “I’m not that bad.”

  Yuna raises her hand. “No one is risking death tonight.” She turns to Ivy. “Since you’re pregnant, you should choose.”

  “That’s a good point,” I say. “Another one is that pregnant women throw up all the time. Pregnant stomachs that hold on to food are as rare as unicorn horns. She might as well get the maximum pleasure out of eating, especially when she might hurl it back up.”

  Ivy regards me blandly. “Pizza.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Nate says.

  “Agreed,” Tony says.

  “I want mine loaded with meat and sausage,” Yuna says.

  I look at her, amazed that she has somehow guessed exactly what I was going to say—again. She maintains that she’s Ivy’s soul sister, but I swear she’s really mine. “You always want what I want.”

  “It’s because I don’t have anybody telling me to watch my weight here in the U.S.”

  “People tell you that in Korea?” Yuna’s so skinny that the slightest wind could blow her away.

  “It’s a long story.” She blows out a breath and presses her lips together.

  I turn to the two ladies who tag after Yuna everywhere. “How about you?”

  “They don’t need anything,” Yuna says before they can respond.

  I look at Yuna’s tightly pursed mouth and the scowl forming on her face. They must’ve upset her somehow. She’s generally pretty laid-back and kind. “Sure they do.”

  “They can ask my mother to feed them if they’re hungry.”

  They must’ve told her mom something she wanted to keep secret. Yuna’s mom can be…forceful, to put it mildly. The entire Pacific Ocean between her and her daughter isn’t enough to deter her.

  “We will be okay with whatever you’re having,” one of the ladies says.

  “Great,” Nate says. “I’m placing an order rig
ht now.” He starts tapping his phone.

  Tony looks at me. “So when are you finally going to introduce us to Ms. Fifty Dollars?”

  “I thought she’d be here too,” Ivy says.

  That reminds me of Skittles’ family dinner, which darkens my mood. “She has this thing with her folks. But she said she’d stop by after she’s finished.”

  “Cool. I’ve been dying to meet Smarties,” Nate says.

  I run my hands over my face.

  “Who’s Smarties?” Yuna asks.

  Nate gestures at me. “The girl he’s dating. He named her after some candy.”

  I shake my head at his shameless inability to remember. So like Nate. “Skittles, not Smarties. But to all of you, she’s Pascal.”

  Yuna scrunches her face. “That’s not fair. I want to give her a name.”

  I pull back a little. With Yuna, you never know what’s going to come next. “Like what?”

  “Destiny.”

  “No. Way too clichéd.” Not to mention I had an encounter with a hooker named Destiny in Vegas last year. It seemed like a good idea at the time, since a fortune cookie told me I’d meet my destiny in the far west, plus I was drunk.

  But Yuna wouldn’t be Yuna if she just accepted my no. “It seems so fitting. She is your destiny.”

  I pause. Unlike Yuna, I don’t believe in karma or fate or any of that stuff. Shit just happens. And it happens when it happens and at the pace it happens. And nothing I do matters. If it did, my family wouldn’t have been shattered, Dad wouldn’t be asking me to join Blackwood Energy against my wishes, Mom wouldn’t be…

  I pull myself from the downward spiral of ugly thoughts, not wanting to dwell on the past. “You can call her”—I pointed at Ivy—“Destiny.”

  Yuna shrugs. “Too confusing. There can be only one Destiny.”

  “Yeah. For Tony.”

  “I’m pretty happy with just Ivy,” Tony says.

  Just then, the doorbell rings. Surprised, I turn around. There’s no way it’s the pizza already. And it’s too early for Skittles to be here.