Read Online Because You Love Me (Falling for You, Book Three) by Ava Claire - Free Book Online
Authors: Ava Claire
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souring my appetite and any lingering desire to be cordial.
“You could care less about our story, Marie.” My hands were rattling, but I was glad that she was too busy slurping on her cocktail to notice. “We don’t have to make awkward small talk. You’ve made it very clear where I stand.”
She paused mid sip. “And where exactly do I think you stand?”
“Somewhere close to the bottom of the heap.” We faced off, and this time, I didn’t blush. “Why else would you and your friend seek out my sister. Ruin her day, practically ruin my relationship-”
“I’m going to cut in right there.” Marie’s delicate features turned shallow as she looked around like she’d lost something. When she came up blank she craned her head toward the sitting room. “Branson, I need you!”
He scurried into the room immediately. “Yes, Miss Wade?”
She held out her glass. ignoring the fact that it was still half full. “I’m done.”
Branson obediently took her glass. “Can I get anything for you?”
She just flicked her wrist. She couldn’t even spare a thank you.
“Marie Wade, I know your father and I didn’t spend all that money on etiquette lessons for you to not treat Branson with respect.”
Xander's mother wasn't dressed as absurdly as her daughter, but she still glided down the stairs like some silver screen movie star in a violet dress with pearl buttons that twinkled in sync with that smile. It was nearly identical to the one she'd flashed me when we met. A practiced thing. I could picture her standing in front of some ornate mirror, coaching herself to not pull the sides to high, show a respectable amount of teeth, clearing her face of all emotion but friendliness. It all seemed forced and uncomfortable. It was just exacerbated by the fact that she'd just scolded her daughter; not because she was rude to Branson, but because she took etiquette lessons and should know better. My mother would have splurged for such things, especially if all the 'cool' moms were doing it, but having compassion for other people was a life lesson that I'd learned early on, free of charge.
Marie didn't backpedal, turning her charm up to 'grating' as she grinned at Branson without an iota of empathy or concern. "Branson knows I love him." When the man stood quiet, probably thinking some very choice things, she added, "Don't you, Branson?"
As if the man had any other choice, he quickly said yes, turning his attention back to Mrs. Wade. "You look beautiful, madam!"
She ducked her chin demurely. "You're too kind, Branson." Her gaze flitted over to me. "And I see my son brought his friend for another visit!"
I opened my mouth to add 'girl' to the front of that, but Marie graciously jumped in.
"Miss Penny Robertson is far from Xander's friend, Mom. They're practically engaged."
Mrs. Wade let out an uncomfortable giggle that devolved into a coughing spell that had Branson dashing over to save the day. "I'm fine, I'm fine!" she insisted, swatting him away. The last time we'd met she couldn't wait to hug my neck and welcome me. Now she kept her distance like I was asking her to buy something. I tried to not take it offensively. Her son hadn’t dated anyone seriously since college, was worth a lot of money, and depending on how much her husband had divulged, I was just a temporary thing so Xander could keep the company.
I knew that I didn't owe them an explanation and our story could very well fall on deaf ears, but I was done tiptoeing and letting my fears and anxieties keep me silent.
I suddenly wished that I'd taken that drink Branson offered earlier, but it was too late for that now. Marie was sitting there, gleefully delighting in what she was sure was the most embarrassing moment of my life, at her hands. Mrs. Wade was probably picturing me with my hooks in her son, trapping him with my feminine wiles, then heaven forbid, a bouncing bundle of joy.
I was never good with the whole meet the parents thing; social anxiety
“You could care less about our story, Marie.” My hands were rattling, but I was glad that she was too busy slurping on her cocktail to notice. “We don’t have to make awkward small talk. You’ve made it very clear where I stand.”
She paused mid sip. “And where exactly do I think you stand?”
“Somewhere close to the bottom of the heap.” We faced off, and this time, I didn’t blush. “Why else would you and your friend seek out my sister. Ruin her day, practically ruin my relationship-”
“I’m going to cut in right there.” Marie’s delicate features turned shallow as she looked around like she’d lost something. When she came up blank she craned her head toward the sitting room. “Branson, I need you!”
He scurried into the room immediately. “Yes, Miss Wade?”
She held out her glass. ignoring the fact that it was still half full. “I’m done.”
Branson obediently took her glass. “Can I get anything for you?”
She just flicked her wrist. She couldn’t even spare a thank you.
“Marie Wade, I know your father and I didn’t spend all that money on etiquette lessons for you to not treat Branson with respect.”
Xander's mother wasn't dressed as absurdly as her daughter, but she still glided down the stairs like some silver screen movie star in a violet dress with pearl buttons that twinkled in sync with that smile. It was nearly identical to the one she'd flashed me when we met. A practiced thing. I could picture her standing in front of some ornate mirror, coaching herself to not pull the sides to high, show a respectable amount of teeth, clearing her face of all emotion but friendliness. It all seemed forced and uncomfortable. It was just exacerbated by the fact that she'd just scolded her daughter; not because she was rude to Branson, but because she took etiquette lessons and should know better. My mother would have splurged for such things, especially if all the 'cool' moms were doing it, but having compassion for other people was a life lesson that I'd learned early on, free of charge.
Marie didn't backpedal, turning her charm up to 'grating' as she grinned at Branson without an iota of empathy or concern. "Branson knows I love him." When the man stood quiet, probably thinking some very choice things, she added, "Don't you, Branson?"
As if the man had any other choice, he quickly said yes, turning his attention back to Mrs. Wade. "You look beautiful, madam!"
She ducked her chin demurely. "You're too kind, Branson." Her gaze flitted over to me. "And I see my son brought his friend for another visit!"
I opened my mouth to add 'girl' to the front of that, but Marie graciously jumped in.
"Miss Penny Robertson is far from Xander's friend, Mom. They're practically engaged."
Mrs. Wade let out an uncomfortable giggle that devolved into a coughing spell that had Branson dashing over to save the day. "I'm fine, I'm fine!" she insisted, swatting him away. The last time we'd met she couldn't wait to hug my neck and welcome me. Now she kept her distance like I was asking her to buy something. I tried to not take it offensively. Her son hadn’t dated anyone seriously since college, was worth a lot of money, and depending on how much her husband had divulged, I was just a temporary thing so Xander could keep the company.
I knew that I didn't owe them an explanation and our story could very well fall on deaf ears, but I was done tiptoeing and letting my fears and anxieties keep me silent.
I suddenly wished that I'd taken that drink Branson offered earlier, but it was too late for that now. Marie was sitting there, gleefully delighting in what she was sure was the most embarrassing moment of my life, at her hands. Mrs. Wade was probably picturing me with my hooks in her son, trapping him with my feminine wiles, then heaven forbid, a bouncing bundle of joy.
I was never good with the whole meet the parents thing; social anxiety
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