Trihn followed her mother and stopped dead in her tracks. Of course. She shouldn’t have been surprised, yet she was.
Lydia and Preston were standing side by side in front of the stove. Preston had his hip leaned up against the oven, and his eyes were fixed on Lydia as she was stirring something in a large pot. Lydia was wearing a simple sundress that came to her knees and hippie hemp sandals. Her hair, hanging loose to her waist, was a soft blonde color with platinum highlights. Preston looked as if he had just come from work in a blue plaid button-up with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and slim-fit charcoal slacks. He was well-groomed with short hair and just a five o’clock shadow gracing his chiseled jawline.
No matter how many times Trihn saw them together, she always felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. She just remembered the time at the Hamptons when everything had flipped on its head. Preston was Lydia’s. They were engaged.
Trihn felt as if she were intruding on a private moment. But as soon as she started to inch back out of the kitchen, Preston turned his head and looked straight at her, freezing her in place. Bright blue eyes wrapped her in a spell and rooted her to the spot on the floor. A slow smirk stretched across his face. It was painful to witness.
“Hey, Trihn,” he said casually.
When Lydia whipped around, there was no semblance of his dirty smirk.
“Trihn!”
“Uh, hey.”
“So glad that you decided to have dinner with all of us.”
“Yeah…”
“Mom made your favorite.”
“I’m just going to go find Dad.” Trihn slowly eased out of the kitchen, making sure not to look at Preston. She only saw Lydia’s distraught face at her own apparent fear before she hurried from the room.
When she turned back to the living room, she found her dad striding into the room from upstairs.
Trihn walked right up to him with her arms crossed. “Thanks for the heads-up about the ambush.”
Gabriel chuckled and pulled her in for a hug. “I’ve missed you.”
“Yeah, but you said we were just going to have a small family dinner.”
“We are. There are only five of us.”
“I thought you meant just the three of us,” she accused.
“I never specifically said that, and anyway, as soon as I told your mother that you were coming, she invited Lydia. There was no way around it. You should have known that.”
Trihn sighed. “If I slip out the front door, maybe no one will notice.”
Her dad gave her a stern look that told her even he wouldn’t let that slide. He likely didn’t want to hear the complaints from everyone at the table if she disappeared.
“Come on. You can sit by me.” He put his arm around her shoulders, and they walked into the dining room.
Trihn took the seat next to her father while her mother fluttered back and forth between the kitchen and dining room, depositing dishes. With the number of plates out, it was practically Thanksgiving.
Lydia carried in one last dish and placed it at the center of the table. She took an empty seat, and Preston walked in a second later, sitting down directly across from Trihn.
Trihn sighed and looked toward her father. “Any interesting shoots lately?”
“Besides yours?” he asked with a smile.
“Oh!” Lydia said, jumping in, uninvited. “Tell me all about your fashion show. Can I come to the one in New York? I’ll be a free photographer or whatever you need.”
“I don’t know, Ly. Details are kind of up in the air on whether I’m going to have anyone with me, aside from the models. The show is even providing an assistant.”
“That’s great, honey,” her mom said, entering the room and taking a seat. “Though I know Lydia would love to work with you in her spare time while you’re here.”
“I really would.”
Trihn nodded. “Yeah, but like I said, we’ll have to see.”
Everyone dug into the food, saving Trihn from having to say much more about it.
“So, are you really dating that guy who sings that new song with Chloe Avana?” Lydia asked.
Trihn squared her shoulders. “Yeah. Damon.”
“Damon Stone. Is that his real name?” Lydia asked. “Don’t they all have fake names?”
“Yeah, a lot of them do, but no, that’s his real name. We went to a show for this guy named DJ Poet, but his real name is James Poe, and the studio thought that was boring.”
“I’ve heard his stuff before,” Preston said. “Poet, that is.”
“But…I’m confused. What happened with Neal? He was so sweet,” Lydia said.
Trihn clenched her jaw. “It just didn’t work out. Damon is a much better choice.”
“Do you get to see him much? Mom said he’s touring.”
“He just went out on the road. He’s normally in Vegas. He was a DJ at a nightclub I frequent. That’s how we met.”
“Interesting. It must be hard to be away.”
Trihn nodded. “Yeah, but we talk a lot. So, it’s not the end of the world.”