“Nine thousand square feet, give or take,” he offered, knocking on the door.
Way larger than even the nicest house they’d looked at back home. And, if she could guess, well over twice the cost, especially when considering currency exchange.
She gripped her clutch even tighter.
The door opened and they were ushered in and divested of their outerwear; they walked only five feet when they were offered a cocktail. Jeremy accepted one while Tori said a quiet, “No, thank you.”
Instead of leaving it there, though, Jeremy asked for them to bring her a club soda and lime.
“How did you know what I’d like?”
He leaned closer. “You’ve been drinking it all week at my place.”
He noticed the most mundane things, and she couldn’t help but be pleased.
Now they were at the door to a large room, and conversations hummed from inside. His mother was in there. Probably his sister. Stepfather. Their social circle. She was a small-town nobody from Nova Scotia. She couldn’t be more out of place if she tried.
She was about to ask him for more time, but then a woman appeared at the door, carrying a glass of red wine, and smiled widely. “About time you got here! I wondered if you’d fed me to the wolves.”
“Hey, Sarah.” He gave her a hug, but it was more polite than overt affection. “I’d like you to meet Tori.”
“Hello, Tori. Nice of you to...”
She’d just noticed Tori’s baby bump. “Oh. Oh. Well. Congratulations.”
Tori placed her hand protectively over the baby. “Thank you.”
Sarah looked at Jeremy. “Does Mom know?”
“Of course not.”
“Wow, Jeremy, you’re going to make her a grandmother. She won’t be able to lie about her age anymore.”
“Well, cheers to that.” The siblings touched glasses.
Sarah relaxed a little. “Seriously, though, congratulations. I’m surprised as hell, but one of us deserves to be happy. When’s the due date?”
“April fourteenth,” Tori supplied.
“Well, you might as well come in. You can’t stay in the doorway all night.”
Tori’s club soda arrived, so her hands were full of purse and drink as they entered a room that she was sure was nearly as big as her whole house.
The men wore black tie, the same as Jeremy, creating a striking look. The women were dressed in conservative cocktail dresses, with nary a bared shoulder or plunging neckline in sight. Except for one woman, Tori noticed. She had on a little black dress that dipped to the waist in the back, and came to mid-thigh. When she turned around, it was like looking at Sarah all over again, only twenty-five years older and with three times the amount of makeup.
Unless Tori was sadly mistaken, she’d also had substantial work done. Her face had a pinched look that wasn’t quite natural.
The woman spied Jeremy and smiled, then her gaze lit on Tori, drifted down to her belly and moved back up with both surprise and distaste in their depths. Here we go.
At least the front of the dress was more appropriate than the back. She excused herself and came to stand in front of Jeremy, as if Tori wasn’t there at all.
“So good of you to come, Jeremy.”
“Mother.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Tori wasn’t sure the kiss had even made contact with skin. “Merry Christmas. I’d like to introduce you to Victoria Sharpe.”
Tori put down her drink and held out her hand. “Hello, Mrs....”
It struck her suddenly. Jeremy never mentioned his mother by her first name, and since she’d remarried her last name wouldn’t be Fisher any longer. It would be something else. Something Tori didn’t know. She wanted to sink through the floor, especially when the other woman made no move to reduce Tori’s embarrassment. She didn’t even shake her hand. Tori dropped her hand to her side, feeling sick to her stomach.