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“Damn!” Tanner said again with more enthusiasm. “That’s impressive. I’m more of a one-night-stand kind of guy, you know?” He laughed as he waggled his eyebrows in jest, and Alaric’s face broke into a wide grin. It bothered me to see how easily amused he was with Tanner when he couldn’t even look at his own son without sneering. I knew it bothered Leo, too, but he did a great job of not showing it.
Christine, who had mostly been quiet on the other side of the table, set down a mussel shell and dabbed her lips with a linen napkin before saying, “You know, Leo was engaged to a beautiful young woman in New York before his . . . episode.” She looked right at me, as if for emphasis.
Leo was engaged? It felt like a pressure hose being aimed at my face. My expression must have faltered because Christine smirked, and I hated her for it.
Leo tensed beside me. “Mother, I hardly think that’s relevant to bring up now.” His panic was obvious, but I didn’t know if it was the mention of an engagement or his . . . “episode,” whatever that meant. Or maybe it was because he knew this was all new information for me.
I tried to ignore the sting of it, of not knowing he’d been engaged only a year ago. Leo didn’t owe me his life story, but there was no denying we’d been blurring the lines between what was fake and what was real, and I would’ve preferred to find something like this out from him instead of his meddling mother. She continued to surveil me, thrilled at her ability to hurt someone who—for all she knew—made her son happy.
I wanted to bite back.
Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Maybe she wasn’t strong enough to handle the man that Leo is.”
Alaric huffed out a laugh, and rage sang in my veins.
Christine looked at her husband and smiled, encouraged by his mockery. “Well, I for one don’t pretend to understand my son’s type when it comes to women. Rebecca was the picture-perfect bride, and it still wasn’t enough to satisfy him.”
“Doesn’t sound like she was right for him, then,” I retorted.
Leo gave my thigh another squeeze under the table. “Mara,” he murmured close to my ear. “It’s not worth it. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
I looked at him and found his mouth lined with worry as he studied my face. I gave him a glimpse of a smile. “No, Leo, it’s okay. Let them dig themselves into a hole.” His scrutiny, even presented through a tightened brow, felt like a warm embrace. He cared about me. I pressed my palm lightly to his cheek, wanting to reassure him we could withstand this. Together.
I wasn’t going to back down.
Turning back to his parents, I squared my shoulders. “You’re definitely right that you don’t understand Leo’s type. You’ve been looking at me like a pesky bug beneath your shoe, and I’m not sure if it’s my colored hair or the fact that I’m a bartender—or maybe it’s that I’ve slept with more women in my life than Tanner probably has?” Christine gasped, clutching her hand over her mouth in horror. Next to her, Alaric went as white as the table cloth between us. “He deserves to have a partner who understands his needs and who is invested in helping him reach his own dreams.”
“And that’s you?” Christine spewed.
I shrugged, unfazed. “Maybe. Maybe this doesn’t work out, and that’s okay.” I peered over at Leo, not knowing what I’d find. But he didn’t look mad—he looked . . . awestruck. “Or maybe it does. Maybe I contribute to his real happiness.” I smiled. “But either way, Leo deserves to be happy and supported and fiercely loved.”
Alaric’s pale face transitioned to red as he glared at me. “You are a disrespectful brat who is clearly only with my son for your own personal gain. If not for you and this sham of a relationship that is nothing but a distraction, he probably would never have stooped so low as to buy a fucking nightclub. You make a mockery of him and of our family name, and I will not allow it any longer!” If Christine was worried about people looking before, she should be petrified now—everyone around us was gaping at Alaric. He turned to Leo. “And you! You have made a mess of everything! Everything that we worked so hard for!” he thundered. “This is fucking over, do you understand me? You are to return to New York by the end of the month, or I will ensure you are cut off from all of your accounts!”
“You can’t do that,” Leo argued, keeping his voice low. “Take me off the company payroll, if you wish, but you can’t cut me off from what is mine—I have full rights to my own personal accounts. Grandpa made sure of it when he passed. You will learn to speak to Mara with respect or I will make sure you are publicly exposed for far more than your anger and control issues.”
Alaric bristled at the threat, eyes dancing in rage. “As if anyone would believe you after the fool you made of yourself, Leo. Give it up, son. You have nothing without me. You are nothing without me. I made you, and you will fall in line. It’s only a matter of time.”
Leo pressed his lips together in frustration but stayed silent. I didn’t know if it was in an attempt to de-escalate things, or if he really was intimidated by Alaric’s words. I prayed it was the former, that Leo wasn’t actually scared by anything this sad, disgusting man had to say. But words from last night raced back to my mind . . .
I can’t expect to succeed in life on whimsy and foolish dreams.
I’m supposed to take it all over. It’s what I’ve worked toward my whole life—what my father has been preparing me for.
I knew what it was like to exist underneath someone’s thumb like this—it felt impossible to get out, to break free. I wanted to climb across the table and strangle Alaric for how easy it was for him to spew vitriol at his own son. I wanted to shake Leo and beg him to leave these terrible people behind. To pursue his dreams—like playing and writing music.
I would just have to prove to him that it would be worth it, that he could succeed on his own without any help from his father, no matter what he chose for his life. And I wanted to . . . I wanted to make that effort. For him.
He turned to look at me with an expression that was stony and closed off. But his eyes gave him away—they always did. He was in pain. “Let’s get out of this dumpster fire of a dinner,” I whispered with a small smile, an attempt to show him we were okay. That I had him.
He gave me a tight nod before turning back to his parents. “I hope you all have a lovely rest of your evening . . . Mara and I are taking our leave. Thank you for the hors d’oeuvres—please feel free to enjoy the rest of our wine.” He pushed his chair back before standing to pull mine out.
“Leopold.” Christine’s eyes were wide. “Surely you are not leaving in the middle of dinner? We haven’t even ordered our food yet!”
Leo gave her a stiff smile. “I’m sure you’ll have a nice enough time without us. You have a guest here to entertain you, after all.”
Tanner looked guilty as he picked up his drink, and Alaric rolled his eyes. “Quit being dramatic, Leo, and sit back down.”
“No thanks.” It was all he said before he hooked an arm around my waist and led us to the front of the restaurant. Both Alaric and Christine gaped at us as we walked away, shocked at his show of defiance.
