“Yes, of course. Robert and I have attended every year since this event’s conception.” She says like it’s some sort of competition.
“I hope Mr. Mitchell won’t mind if I steal you for a dance this evening, what lucky men we are to escort two stunning ladies.” I lay it on thick. I’d rather dance with Digby than this woman.
“Well,” Lydia pips and tries to fuss at Mallory’s hair but Mallory smacks her hand away. “Mallory is wearing a gown I just wore last season so that’s unfortunate.”
What the hell? “You must have good taste, Mallory is a vision.” I bite my tongue and force a smile.
“I told her to wear her hair down,” she tries fussing with it again and Mallory steps away. “It would look much more… feminine down, Mallory.”
“You are gorgeous, love,” I reach for Mallory’s hand, my patience running thin within seconds of being here.
“Mr. Gibbes,” Lydia interrupts, “you will be wearing a proper bow tie this evening, will you not?” She scowls and waves at my neck, the top button of my shirt still undone because I don’t want to be choked to death a moment sooner than I need to be.
“Mother!” Mallory scolds.
“What? I’m only being kind so Mr. Gibbes does not feel out of place this evening. Lord knows we don’t need anymore gossip about you.”
What sort of mum talks to her daughter like this? Mallory is absolutely horrified, her face reddening and her jaw clenching. Aria’s eyes are about to roll into the back of her head.
This is the worst mum experience I’ve ever had.
“Mal, the limo is waiting. Shall we?” I gesture to the door. Please be ready to go, I can’t keep my mouth shut much longer.
“Oh, wouldn’t you like a tour of the home before you leave, Mr. Gibbes?” The old bat questions. “It’s original 19th century,” she adds, like I should be impressed with this gaudy nightmare factory.
“How… quaint,” I smile, knowing exactly how to play this game. Aria tries to silence a snort behind me. “Please, enjoy the flowers and again, lovely to meet you, Mrs. Mitchell.”
I put my hand on the small of Mallory’s back to escort her out the door and World’s Worst Mom, Lydia, turns and shuffles out of the foyer in a tissy. Aria chases behind us onto the front step outside.
“Holy shit, that was amazing! ‘Quaint’!” Aria is nearly jumping up and down in excitement.
“Thank you so much for everything,” Mallory hugs her.
“Aria,” I take her hand and kiss the back of her fingers, “pleasure.” I deliberately smolder at her, in good fun.
I help Mallory into the limo as the driver closes our door and rounds the car.
“I am so sorry!” She puts her hand on my knee apologizing for her snooty mum’s abhorrent behavior. And people call me an asshole.
“Were you adopted or something, love?”
“No,” she laughs.
“You could not be more different from that woman.”
Mallory leans in and kisses my cheek softly, “That’s the best compliment you could have given me.”
The privacy window between the driver is down and I need to get through this event before defiling Mallory anyway, so I settle for slipping my hand on her bare thigh for the ride, as she warns me that her father, Robert, will be at this gala tonight and I can expect more of the same from him. I pour two fingers of whatever swill whiskey is in the decanter in the back of the limo and suck it down in preparation.
???
This gala is everything I hate.
Phony people telling fake stories, putting on aires trying to impress people they don’t even know, everyone looking down their nose at everyone else. This is supposed to be about charity, children’s cancer research, but no one is here to help kids.
The suits from UG Petroleum are, surprisingly, the most tolerable folks I’ve met tonight. I wouldn’t dream of embarrassing Mallory in front of her patronizing, condescending parents so I am on my best behavior. In fact, the more nasty glares and snide comments they whisper to her as the evening goes on, the more hellbent I am on being a model guest, someone she can be proud to be here with.
Plus, it’s fun fucking with Lydia and Robert.