“Stop bossing me around,” I mutter back. He can’t stand it when I ramble about useless stuff, and I’ve been rambling for a good half hour almost non-stop. It’s my go-to coping mechanism when stressed about seeing my mother. “Just because you don’t like me talking all the time doesn’t mean I should stop.”
His hand locks onto my bicep to halt my walking. Turning me to face him, he says, “Char, it’s not that I hate you talking. It’s that I hate what your mother turns you into whenever you have to see her. And I know this incessant talking is because of that. I just want you to calm down and be the you that I love. Fuck what your mother thinks.”
His words almost melt the armour I’ve clad myself in for the night. They almost make me think I could get through this evening without keeping my defences in place. I know better, though. Touching his cheek, I smile. “I love you, Dyl, but you know my mother. She pretty much blackmailed me into coming tonight, so that tells me she hasn’t changed. She expects me to play the part, and well, I suck at that, so tonight’s going to be rough.”
After hardly talking with my mother for months, she’s phoned me twice since Poppy’s wedding. The first time, to tell me she was disappointed she didn’t get to say goodbye before I left the hotel the morning after the wedding. I managed to bite my tongue and not tell her that was intentional. I can be a good daughter when I try. The second time was to ask me to attend this function tonight. When I’d tried to blow it off, she’d told me she knew I was working for North & Co. and that she’d hate for anything to jeopardise that job. She’d said something about knowing Jill North very well. It had been a veiled threat, and not wanting to lose my job just when I felt it might be a turning point in my life, I’d agreed to attend tonight so long as I could bring a plus-one. My plus-one being Dylan who I knew would shield me from her as best he could.
Dylan drapes his arm over my shoulders and pulls me close. “Okay, babe, let’s get inside, eat all the food, smile for all those fuckers and then get the hell out of here. After this, we’re hitting the booze. Fuck knows we’ll need it.”
I grin. “Remind me again why you and I aren’t a thing. I mean, seriously, you’re hot as fuck, you earn a shit tonne of money from your art, and you always know the exact right thing to say to talk me off the ledge.”
He chuckles. “Now you’re screwing with me, babe. You know exactly why we aren’t a thing. My balls are still blue from the last time I tried that.”
“Let’s be honest here, you just wanted sex. You didn’t want a commitment.”
“Okay, let’s be real honest here. I would drive you crazy.”
He’s right. Dylan’s OCD personality is in complete contrast to my personality that doesn’t have a touch of OCD in it. There’s no way we could ever live together.
I rest my head on his shoulder as we walk. Sighing, I agree, “I really would. But at least this way I get to have you in my life forever.” Unlike the women he does date who only ever stay in his life for a month at the most.
He squeezes my shoulder. “Your mother is walking our way. You ready?”
I take a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Charlize,” she greets me coolly, her gaze appraising my outfit. I know she won’t approve of my short, fitted, strapless black dress. It’s covered in bling, which she’ll label as too glitzy and tacky for her gala. Plus, she detests black.
My bad.
I’d like to say I considered other options, but what I really considered was how much I could irritate her.
Yes, I really am twenty-seven even though I sound fifteen.
I plaster a fake smile on my face. “Mother. You remember Dylan.”
Her lips flatten as she finishes taking in my dress, and I fist pump on the inside. She then glances at Dylan. “Hello, Dylan. So good of you to ensure my daughter made it here tonight.”
Now, I love Dylan. A lot. Like, I can’t even count the ways, but one of my very favourite things about him is that he has no time for fake people or shallowness. His bullshit detector is the best I’ve ever come across. I think it’s because he comes from way across the other side of the tracks, and he had to scrap to make his way in the world.
He doesn’t let me down now.
A sexy grin spreads across his face as he pulls me even closer to him. So close that my boobs are smooshed against him. He then splays his hand across my stomach, pretty damn close to my vagina. “I’m happy to be of service, Joan. I’ve got plans for your daughter later tonight, though, so we may need to leave early, if you know what I mean.”
My mother’s eyes widen slightly, but she recovers quickly. Looking across the room, she says, “I’m sorry, Charlize, but I must keep circulating and touch base with everyone. I will need you to stay for as long as the speech. Your father and I would like you and Nate on the stage with us for that. Don’t let your father down tonight.” Nate, my older brother. He’s the favourite, but only just. We’ve both screwed our lives up as far as our mother is concerned.
Insert eye-roll.
She doesn’t give a toss about my father. This is all for her and her display of a happy family. She wants to prove to her friends—if you can call them that—that she is as successful at parenting as she is at organising lunches and dinners.
Before I can respond, Dylan says, “I’ll make sure Char is here for the speech, but I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to restrain myself much after that.”
Mum’s lips flatten again.
Two fist pumps in one night.
We’re setting all new records here.
“Very well,” she says before stalking away from us.