Plates on top of plates. Jesus, rich people are ridiculous.
I stare down at what was just put in front of me, hoping to God the chef comes back out with more food. When a few seconds go by and no one comes back through those swinging doors, and everyone else starts picking up their silverware, I realize I was wrong before. This is hell.
The tiniest egg-white omelet I’ve ever seen with some sort of leafy green shit in it sits in one corner of the plate, three pieces of honeydew cut in the shape of roses are next to it, and right in the middle of the plate are two brussels sprouts with nary a drizzle of melted butter or bacon bits on them. The whole plate has some sort of fancy design painted around the food using a green sauce that I’m sure was made out of a vegetable.
Where’s the bread? Where’s the crispy bacon? Where’s the biscuits and gravy? Where’s the donuts? There isn’t a carb in sight, and I think my stomach is starting to eat itself.
“We’ll go to a Taco Bell drive-through on the way home, don’t worry,” Eric says, leaning over to whisper in my ear.
I turn my head to find him smiling at me.
“That’s quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I whisper back.
“Vanessa and Eric went to college together at Yale University,” Ursula says. Eric and I break apart as we both push this healthy shit around our plates with our forks. “Ariel, where is it you said you went to school?”
Jesus, definitely not an Ivy League one.
“I didn’t. Say it or go to college. Unless you count the school of hard knocks. I got straight A’s there,” I tell her with a sweet smile.
Eric is still clutching tightly to my hand down on his thigh, and he gives it another reassuring squeeze.
“You and Ariel have something in common, Mother. Remember, I told you she’s a business owner as well, with two of her friends? The idea she came up with is brilliant, and this new business is growing so fast, it’s amazing. You two would probably have a lot to talk about, sharing ideas and things like that,” Eric says.
“It’s a stripping business, is it not? You take your clothes off for money and dance for other men?” Ursula says, not even bothering to hide her judgment. “I don’t know how you’re able to handle something like that Eric. Having her do something like that with other men.”
I’m squeezing the fork in my hand so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bend right in half. Eric starts to open his mouth I’m sure to defend me, but I quickly cut him off.
“Eric’s a pretty confident man. He knows he has nothing to worry about because I’ll always come home to him at the end of the night. And it’s not as indecent as it sounds. We conduct parties for people in the privacy of their own homes. We dance for them, show a little skin, and make a hell of a lot of money doing it. Also, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t your son part owner of a strip club?” I ask, stabbing my fork into a piece of fruit and shoving it into my mouth.
“Eric made a business investment that has been very profitable for him. That doesn’t mean I approve of the business he’s conducting,” Ursula replies, dismissing me as she turns to her son. “Eric, did you know Vanessa was offered a position at a law firm here in town as partner? Twenty-eight years old and already a partner. Your parents must be so proud. I can’t believe a man hasn’t snatched you up yet. Eric, why did you two ever stop dating?”
Ursula smiles over at Vanessa, who is starting to look nervously around the table.
For fuck’s sake, I’m sitting right here!
“We never dated, Mother,” Eric sighs, squeezing my hand again.
“Just friends, Ursula. Eric is a wonderful man, but he was just a good friend,” Vanessa adds, glancing over at me. “Ariel, I love the idea of your business. It sounds fun and very unique.”
Well, maybe I won’t have to stab this woman after all.
“It’s definitely fun. Especially since I’m doing it with my two best friends. And like Eric said, it’s growing really fast and making us good money. Well, for now. We seemed to have had a little problem with some paperwork recently,” I add, giving Ursula a pointed look.
“You’ll get it figured out,” Eric reassures me, turning to look at his mother. “Wait a minute. You’re still the head of the board of directors for the county, aren’t you? Maybe you could help Ariel and her friends out with this paperwork bullshit.”
And that, folks, is the screeching sound of a needle being dragged across a record. I am such an idiot. Of course she’s on the board. And not just on the board, the head of the damn board. I knew something was weird about them sending an assistant to make a house call, and I should have gone with my gut.