Arrogant Brit

As we pulled up to the gate in front of Preston’s father’s house, I stared up at the magnificent estate looming just beyond. Preston’s grandfather had custom built it right after World War II as a present to his wife. I couldn’t imagine gifting someone an entire mansion, but life was different for people like the Harveys, even in those days.

I’d been here before, yet I still felt distant, like this place wasn’t really meant for me. Being at Preston’s side made me feel a little better, but knowing that I’d have to contend with my mother soon kept the hairs on my nape raised, regardless.

“Are you ready?” he asked me as we stood just outside the massive front doors. They reminded me a lot of the ones outside his office-slash-second-home.

“As I’ll ever be,” I affirmed, taking a deep breath before Preston reached up and knocked heavily on the door.

I heard the sound of heels clattering across marble, and a moment later, my mother’s face appeared as she pulled one of the doors wide to greet us.

“Well, Maddy, you’ve managed to get here on time. You must be growing up.” I bristled as she turned her gaze on Preston. “It was so kind of you to bring her. You must be exerting a positive influence.”

He smiled tersely. “Good evening, Vivian,” he said. It was obvious from his tone that he was trying to remind her to show some goddamn manners.

But my mother didn’t take the hint. Her diamond earrings sparkled in the fading light as she turned back to me. “It was nice of Preston to take pity on you like this. I hope you’ve thanked him.”

“Oh, trust me,” I said, fixing a grin on my face, “I most certainly have.” Preston nearly giggled at that. I thought his eyes were going to bulge right out of their sockets.

“Well, come in,” she sighed, as though burdened by my mere presence. She’d been doing a lot of that lately since she and Preston’s father had announced they were getting hitched. “Dinner’s almost ready. I really have no idea what takes this damn cook so long just to prepare a meal. It’s not like we expect her to catch and kill the chickens herself, or anything…”

She walked toward the formal dining room while we let ourselves in. As he closed the door behind us, Preston raised an eyebrow at me and said, “I thought you were ashamed of what we’d done?”

I shrugged. “If anything will get me through this evening, Preston, it will be the knowledge that if my mother ever found out about us, she’d have a stroke right there in her French onion soup.”

This time, both of my stepbrother’s eyebrows raised. “Does that mean there is an ‘us?’_”

“Let’s just get dinner over and done with,” I suggested, trying desperately to weasel out of having to answer. “If we survive, then we can have that talk.”

“Your wish is my command,” Preston replied, escorting me to the dining room where our parents were waiting. I bet he said that to every single girl he wanted to fuck…

The table was set with the kind of care and exactness that almost seemed compulsive. Preston was nice enough to pull out a chair for me, but as I sat down, I couldn’t even figure out where to put my hands. I didn’t want to ruin the delicate flower that had been somehow magically crafted from an ordinary cloth napkin, and God help me if I moved one of the pieces of silverware. They were placed at an exact distance from the edge of the table, each one gleaming as if it had never been used…

And knowing where I was, it probably hadn’t.

Despite my discomfort, I did my best to settle in as I pondered the need for two different forks. Food appeared in front of me almost as if by magic, flown to my table by a man in the cleanest pair of white gloves I’d ever seen in my life. The plate was a work of art. It would be a shame to tear it apart, but I was willing to face the peril. My momentary bliss was only broken as my mother spoke up.

“So, Preston, how is Madison working out for you?”

I rolled my eyes as my mother glanced at Preston over the rim of her wine glass. I knew what she was trying to do. She was hoping for some hesitation on Preston’s part, some sign that I wasn’t very good at my job.

I had no clue what my mother had against me, but whatever it was, she loved to take me down a peg at every opportunity.

But Preston didn’t hesitate. “She’s wonderful, really,” he answered as he cut his meat. We were having some kind of chicken stuffed with dates and herbs. “Best PA I’ve ever had.”

“Better than that Jane girl?” his father asked. “I thought she was working out rather nicely. It seemed to me that the two of you were… close.”

I looked at Mr. Harvey across the table. He was damn near the spitting image of his son, though with a touch of steel at his temples that made him seem more distinguished and intimidating. He had hawkish, amber-colored eyes that never left his son’s for one moment as he grilled him about his ex-assistant, and probably ex-girlfriend.

Preston and I hadn’t discussed Jane much in the wake of my arrival. I had a pretty good idea of what had been going on between them, but ultimately, it was none of my business. We’d not seen hide nor hair of her since the day she got fired, and neither of us had thought to bring her up.

But now I understood why Preston had entertained her for so long. Whether or not he was willing to admit it, I got the distinct impression that gaining his father’s approval was something he cared about very much despite how much he hated him. Families were complicated like that, I supposed.

He answered, “It didn’t work out,” and tried to leave it at that, but Mr. Harvey wasn’t having it.

“I can’t see why. Jane was a good match for you. When she was still around you very clearly worked harder than you ever have. She certainly seemed competent enough to me.”

“Well, then I suppose you didn’t really know her,” Preston snapped, taking a long draught of his wine. As usual, things were dematerializing pretty quickly between all of us, maybe even more so since Preston hadn’t shown up drunk this time. I cleared my throat and interrupted their talk of all things Jane with what seemed like a reasonable question.

“Was there something you wanted to talk to us about this evening?”

Mr. Harvey didn’t answer right away. He glanced from me to my mother, then back to Preston. For a moment, I was sure he knew about us, about what we had done. Just as the knot in my stomach grew too heavy to hold down anymore, he spoke.

“I heard about the Verger deal.”

I let out a long breath into my glass as I drank, swallowing both the red wine and the bile that had risen into my throat. I had to stop being so on edge. There was absolutely no way either of our parents could know what had happened, or might what continuing happening between Preston and I.

Was I really considering this? Was I really giving serious thought to continuing my affair with my soon-to-be stepbrother?

The mention of the Verger deal made me question myself even more. That was the client Preston had been on the phone with last night, the one who wanted to tear down a homeless shelter to put in a luxury condo development. It was infuriating. It was absurd. It was unethical. And yet Preston’s father seemed almost proud of him for it. I wondered how proud he would be when Preston called the whole thing off.

“I take it you want this to happen?” Preston said. He tried to play it cool, but I could hear the note of anticipation in his voice clear as a bell.

Mr. Harvey nodded, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll be honest, Preston: I wasn’t sure you’d have it in you to make a bold move like that, especially without Jane around to give you a little shove in the right direction. I thought maybe you’d gone soft on me. Not everyone in your position would have the stones.” He chuckled softly. “They’d be too afraid of going to hell.”

I couldn’t help but scowl. It twisted across my face before I could stop it.

“Rightfully so,” I muttered, knowing well the magnitude of the argument I was about to start. “It’s disgusting. You’re talking about taking the one safe haven these homeless people have and repla

cing it with a glorified apartment building for the wealthy. You ought to be ashamed.”