“Rose,” she said in a panic, and almost immediately, I heard a familiar voice that made my stomach churn uncomfortably. Stepping out as she watched me silently, I approached the voice and saw a man and a woman standing by one of the showrooms.
As he spoke on the phone, the woman turned toward me and noticed me as I remained silent, only acknowledging her with a forced grin. Stopping beside him, my spine straightened automatically like it usually did when he was around, and my hands clasped in front of me to stop them from fidgeting. After a moment, I cleared my throat, and he turned to look at me, sending the person over the phone away.
“Rosie, sweetie, it’s good to see you.” My father smiled, though I could see right through it as my mother stood beside him, compliant and obedient per usual.
I sighed internally as I tried not to think back to this morning with Beckham or my weekend at his studio. If I did, I would find myself even more angry that I now had to face the last person I would ever want to see on a day like today.
Chapter forty-two
Rosenna
“Rosie,sweetie,it’sgoodto see you.” My father, Eric, smiled.
I forced a grin. “Same here… I didn’t expect you both to actually show,” I muttered, even though I knew good and well that wasn’t the case; however, openly admitting I didn’t want to see my parents wouldn’t do me any good.
“Well, we needed to see what all the fuss was about, so I’d thought it was about time your mother and I stopped by.”
I nodded silently as I tried to remain calm and not crack under his gaze that looked warm on the surface but was actually scrutinizing me.
He didn’t seem too enthusiastic being in one of my buildings, though I wouldn’t have expected more from the man who showed a lack of enthusiasm in anything I did that didn’t specifically align with what he wanted.
“I’m glad you both could stop by then,” I said, hinting that this encounter wouldn’t be too long for my sake.
As always, my father didn’t take the hint. Placing his hands in his pockets, he gazed around the hall as he looked over to many of the showrooms. “Aren’t you going to give us a tour?”
My mother and I shared a quick glance before I quickly nodded, taking the lead as I walked ahead.
“Of course. Follow me.”
It was still a bit early and the full house we were expecting would be coming later than we initially anticipated. And at this moment, I couldn’t really decipher whether or not I was happy with that fact given my current situation.
“You haven’t been answering my calls,” my father began as we approached one of the abstract art showrooms.
I gave a nonchalant shrug as I avoided making eye contact. “I’ve been busy.”
My father crossed his arms, looking around at Beckham’s paintings.
“I bet you have been. Seems like your new client is giving you a run for your money with how expensive he’s charging for each piece.” He spoke almost dismissively, and I said nothing, not wanting to drag the conversation on Beckham for much longer. “I hear you and your little assistant had to go through Vincent Garcia to get to his son. Must not have been much of a challenge to get to him then, huh?”
My teeth gritted slightly as my eyes narrowed into slits.
“Mylittleassistant,Kira, worked for months to get in contact with Mr. Garcia, and she is the backbone of my business. Us getting to this point is not as easy as you may think,“ I retorted.
My father’s jaw clenched in irritation.If looks could kill…
My mother, Elise, finally deciding to use her voice, gave me a smile as she pulled me into her embrace.
“Regardless, Rosenna, we are very proud of what you’ve accomplished so far,” she said, trying to ease the growing tension.
I know I should have been genuine in my smile as I wrapped my arms around her, but I wasn’t. Not when my eyes were looking over to my father, waiting for his approval, just like I’ve always done in the past despite lying to myself that I didn’t need it. And unfortunately, I was met with his silence, which said more than enough.
Pulling away from my mother, I continued the tour, deliberately steering them away from the more popular exhibit, which still left me blushing.
“So when are we going to meet the star of the show?” my father asked, glancing over to me as we were in Beckham’s modern art showroom.
I gave a slight shrug. “Beckham isn’t one for public appearances.”
“This is no public appearance, Rosie. We’re your parents. Surely you can ask if he can make an exception?”
