Ian and his brother take turns congratulating Callie on another successful program, which is made slightly more difficult by my keeping a tight hold on her hand. But eventually, the rest of the Rhodes family and the Fairchilds finally see themselves out.
Leaving us alone with the lions.
But this is our den, not theirs.
Lillian Rutherford steps up to her daughter. “Well, it seems you made quite the impression on Oliver’s family.” Anyone walking by would think Callie’s mother was admiring her daughter. Good thing Callie and I know better. “Good for you, dear.”
Callie squeezes my hand hard, making me apologetic to her future birthing partner.
“My entire family is very proud of her,” I say, releasing Callie’s hand to throw my arm around her. With every silent, awkward moment that passes, I pull her closer.
Lillian’s eyes float between us, that catlike smile never vacating the premises. “How nice.”
Footsteps echo in the hallway, announcing Ira’s return. “Lillian, we need to go.” Mr. Rutherford turns to his daughter. “Congratualtions, Calloway. Oliver,” he turns to me, “it’s a shame you won’t be joining us up at Aspen Point for Christmas. Maybe next time.”
“Actually, my parents decided to make Boston a solo trip this holiday,” I say, smiling down at Callie who is now firmly tucked into my side, “so it turns out I can make the trip with Callie, after all.”
Wiry gray brows raise, and his head corresponds with a nod. “Huh. Well, I guess we’ll see you next week, then. Lillian, please?”
His wife gives Callie and I one more once over before making her way toward the door.
Prescott palms the back of his neck. “That was … strange.”
“Thanks,” Callie snorts.
He shrugs. “But it was definitely a decent way to spend a Thursday night. So thanks for the entertainment. Besides, it wasn’t any stranger than Marigold’s program this year where they danced around in pajamas.” Prescott moves to let Marigold give her aunt another hug, sprinkling in some kisses, before he guides her out to the hall.
Chris follows his older brother out without a word, hooking his arm and pulling him to the side as he does so.
Pressing a kiss to Callie’s temple, I release her and step toward the hallway, allowing some room for her to chat with Connie and Imogene in private.
And to keep an eye on the Rutherford men who are hellbent on making Callie’s and my life harder.
Imogene and Connie both radiate pride for their youngest sister as they take turns giving her awkward hugs, relaying their congratulations.
“Hey guys,” I say, approaching the two biggest thorns in my side. And that includes taking Mrs. Collins’ family into consideration.
Prescott and Chris turn my way, neither looking too impressed.
“Thanks again for coming tonight,” throwing my hands on my hips, I give them my best ‘I'm not dangerous’ smile, “I know it meant a lot to Callie.”
Chris folds his arms over a puffed out chest.
Prescott just looks tired.
“Is everything alright?” I ask, feigning innocence.
Shockingly, Prescott is the first to speak. “So, what’s your game?”
Frowning, I look between them, shaking my head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Is it our money? Status? Connections?” Chris interrupts.
My brows only dig deeper. “Excuse me?”
“Because the way I see it,” he continues, “you’ve got a lot going for you. Your own private practice, two entrepreneur parents and a sister following in their footsteps?—”
“Did you do a background check on me or something?”
