“Aubrey, sit back down.” She grabbed my hand. “Let’s not make a scene.”
“Let’s!” I snatched my hand away. “Let’s discuss how I’m twenty f**king two and I’m a junior in college when I should already be a graduate! Shall we? Can you explain why that is?”
My father’s face reddened and he motioned for me to sit down, but I stood my ground.
My mother clutched her pearls. “Aubrey...We did what was best at the time, and even though switching school systems twice in two years was unfortunate, it made you who you are today. Now, the campaign won’t start until—”
“I don’t care when the hell it starts. I’m not going on a pointless campaign trail, and I’m not taking any of my classes online because guess what?” I could feel my blood boiling. “You can’t learn f**king ballet online!”
The restaurant was suddenly silent.
“You two are beyond selfish and you don’t even know it.” I shook my head. “I’m voting for the other guy.” I stormed off amidst gasps and whispers from the other tables—slightly content that my parents’ picture perfect family had been publicly scratched a bit.
“Your number, Miss?” The valet said to me as I stepped outside.
“My what?”
“Your number?” He tilted his head to the side. “For your car?”
Shit... I sighed and looked over my shoulder.
Patrons were pointing in my direction and I couldn’t bear to go back in there just because I didn’t have a ride home.
I considered calling a cab, but I knew that was pointless. It would take forever to get here, and I could probably walk back to my apartment faster than they would arrive.
There was a bus stop a mile or so down, but I only had a credit card. I doubted Andrew would come get me, but I decided to give it a try.
Subject: A Ride.
I really need a favor...
—Aubrey
Subject: Re: A Ride
Wanting to take a ride on my c**k in the middle of the day shouldn’t be considered a “favor” at this point.
—Andrew
Subject: Re: Re: A Ride
I’m not talking about your dick. I’m talking about your car...Would you be able to pick me up right now? I was at a dinner with my parents but it didn’t end well...and I don’t have my car.
If you can’t, I’ll understand.
—Aubrey
Subject: Re: Re: Re: A Ride
Where are you?
—Andrew
Half an hour later, he pulled into the country club’s driveway.
I slipped into his car before he could even park—not looking back at the snooty members who were probably whispering and wondering about what had happened between me and my parents.
“I’m taking you home, right?” he asked as he pulled off.
“No...”
He looked over at me. “Am I taking you to GBH?”
“If you want. Just not to my apartment.” I paused. “I’m sure my parents will stop by there after dinner and try to talk to me so...”
“Have you eaten?”
“Lost my appetite...” I said softly, then I smiled. “But if you’re interested in taking me on a date right now, I’m not opposed to that.”
“Why would I take you on a date?”
“Because you owe me one.”
“Since when?”
“You once said that you would take me out if we ever met in person, and you haven’t done it yet.”
We approached a stoplight and he turned to face me.
“If I was even vaguely interested in taking you out right now—which I’m not, where the hell would I take you if you’ve already eaten dinner?”
“Surprise me.” I shrugged and leaned against the glass—shutting my eyes. I could practically picture him staring at me, giving me that “You’re out of your damn mind” look, and as he steered the car back onto the street, I smiled—hoping that this would be the start of us going out regularly.
I was dreaming of him kissing me in the gallery room again when I felt him gently shaking my shoulder.
“Aubrey...” he whispered. “Aubrey, wake up.”
I lifted my head and looked outside my window. There were lush plants and a massive glass paned building—an executive condo. My heart skipped a beat because I knew he’d never taken a woman to his place before, and I was happy that I would be the first.
I looked over at him, ready to say something, but then I saw him fiddling with a green parking pass and I looked out the front window—seeing where we really were.
Outside of a Hilton hotel.
“Your idea of taking me on a date is bringing me to a hotel?”
“It’s more about f**king you in the hotel.”
“Andrew, this is where you take all your other dates...”
“And?”
My heart sank. “Do you not see why bringing me here would hurt my feelings?”
“Would you prefer the Marriott?”
I blinked.
“They don’t have the same standard of room service,” he said, “but if that’s what you prefer—”
“Just take me home—right now.” My voice cracked and I leaned against the window, shutting my eyes again. “I’ll deal with my parents...”
***