“Tomorrow morning. We’ll be spending Thanksgiving dinner at the Spencers.” I threw a strawberry into my mouth and chewed. Maybe he was pissed that I was staying with Rosie’s family, but he ought to know that winning her parents over was a priority this year. Rosie’s parents didn’t completely hate me—I helped them get their shit together back when they moved to L.A. and Vicious was in New York playing Romeo to Emilia—but I got where they came from. If I had two daughters and a bastard who boned both of them, I’d be suspicious of his intentions, too.
I needed to rehab my image, make sure they knew chasing a LeBlanc ass wasn’t a hobby of mine.
“Would you be able to drop by afterwards?” Dad smoothed his Polo shirt. “There are a few matters we need to discuss.”
Mom’s face changed, her eyes were pleading with me now.
“Are you guys getting a divorce?” My voice was dry, one eyebrow raised.
“Oh, Lord!” My mom scoffed, clutching her pearls. “What are you talking about, Dean? Of course not.”
“Someone dying?” I proceeded.
“No,” Dad said.
“And none of these girls are preggo?” I threw a thumb in Keeley and Payton’s direction. My bet was on Payton. Kid was trouble. But my parents shook their heads in unison, denying this, too.
“In that case, I’ll take a rain check.” I took a sip of my water, leaning back in my chair. “We have a board meeting in our L.A. office after dinner that will take some time.”
“Everything all right?” Dad furrowed his brows. I shrugged.
“We’re twisting Vicious’s arm. He needs to switch branches with Trent. He wants to be close to his parents now that Val is gone.”
As the words left my mouth, I’d realized that Rosie didn’t know shit about it. I forgot to tell her. Didn’t think she’d care. But, of course, she would. Her parents lived in Vicious’s house, and her sister was having his fucking baby. Though I knew Vicious would never sell the mansion—he loved it too much—I still felt like a dick, throwing it in her face out of nowhere.
She leaned forward and my fingers were no longer touching her back, and her lips were no longer smiling, and fuck, I was an asshole. She had every right to give me grief about it.
“You can still make it, even if late,” my dad insisted. Goddamn, what was with him today?
“No can do, Dad. Told you. This could take a while. If you have something to tell me, do.”
“I’d rather not.”
I put my silverware down—slowly—taking the time to scan every curious face at the table before I spoke again. “We’re family. All of us.” My hand found Rosie’s neck, but she pulled away, gently yet firmly, making sure I knew I was in the doghouse.
“Dean, honey.” Mom licked her lips, and Keeley and Payton offered each other puzzled looks from across the table. They didn’t know what the hell was going on either. Thank fuck. The last thing I needed was an intervention or some shit.
Nothing about the situation made sense. Our family didn’t have secrets. Well, there was one, and it was mine, but it was buried six feet under, covered by the dirt of everyday life and the dust of years of denial. The rule was that when we were together, we talked about it freely. Never held back.
Only it wasn’t just us in the room now. Rosie was there, too. It tipped me off, and my jaw locked, my eyes narrowed.
What the fuck has Nina done now?
“That old thing. I still haven’t told Rosie about it.” I rubbed my face tiredly. “Yeah…fine. I’ll throw her in the loop after we’re done here. She’s not gonna give a fuck. I promise you that,” I said, watching as all eyebrows in the room—Rosie’s included—rose in disbelief.
“Please, if you need to say something, do. Don’t mind me. It’d make me feel right at home,” my girlfriend joked. None of us found it funny. My teeth ground together.
“Any reason why you’d choose to bring it up now?” I played cool.
Brunch was turning into the kind of Jerry Springer crap you made fun of when you were doped, slung on your couch drinking ice-cold beer.
Say hi to your current life, asshole. It’s not a TV show; it’s your reality.
“We heard Nina was in New York.” My dad jerked his chin up, and that was when I noticed he hadn’t touched anything on his plate. Eli Cole didn’t eat his fucking cowboy breakfast. That was weird. He would marry greasy food if it were legal. Mom only let him have it once a year.
“I see she gave you an update on her whereabouts.” I reached for the orange juice, my hand a little shaky. “I’m taking care of it.”
Sort of. Kind of. Okay, not really.
“We all know what she wants.” Dad put his hand on mine and made the shaking stop. I raised my eyes to his. We both swallowed hard. “And I think it’s time you face what she has to say, son.”
“You do?” I leaned back, breaking the contact, one of my elbows propped on the table and my other arm snaking around Rosie’s seat. “Who is going to pay for this little adventure? You or me?”
“Me, if that’s what you care about. But it’s not. Your mother and I want to discuss this with you. It’s not a subject to be addressed on the phone.”
Rosie’s hand came down on my knee. Payton and Keeley looked confused, but she was downright frightened. I needed to make it stop. I postponed this conversation long enough. It was time to tell her and face the consequences.
My eyes were still locked in a battle with my dad. He was pissing me off. That almost never happened. I had a very good relationship with my father. We golfed together. Went to football games together. Talked until the very late hours of the night together every time I came home for a visit. Other than drinking together—I had a problem and didn’t want him to witness my ugly side for himself—we pretty much did everything together. He was a source of pride for me. Even my friends dropped by to ask him for advice.
“Fine,” I bit out. “I’ll try to make it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. It could be three or four in the morning. These meetings can drag.” Boy, could they. We always took our sweet-ass time when we locked the door to the world outside. And convincing Vicious to do something he didn’t want to do? Yeah, we’d be lucky to leave there before January.
“We’ll stay up all night if need be.” Dad took Mom’s hand in his, his cheekbones flexing.
“Any way we can go back to eating and talking about Dean’s future babies?” Keeley squirmed in her chair. “Rosie looks fifty shades of pale, and I’m kinda scared.”
“Are you okay?” I twisted my head, checking my girlfriend out. She didn’t look okay. She looked like she was going to faint. Rosie nodded, just barely. I took her hand in mine, and this time she let me, which wasn’t a good sign if you knew Rosie.
She was supposed to be pissed off with me.
“Inhaler, please.” Her voice was barely a hiss.
I rushed to her bag. I knew by then her inhalers were hooked into the front pockets and grabbed both of them before returning to the table.
Everyone’s silence grated on my nerves as Rosie sipped water after she used her blue inhaler. I shook with rage. What the fuck did my parents think they were doing? They had all the time in the world to tackle the Nina subject, and they decided this brunch was the perfect opportunity?
Fuck them.