Mom’s hand retreats. “I’m just saying there needs to be balance.”
When dinner is served, steam billows from my brother’s nostrils. Every time our parents use him as a reason to argue, it tears him up inside.
Seeing him hurt and disappointed crushes my heart. But I did warn him this would happen.
As everyone settles into eating, Mr. Prescott takes it upon himself to resume the conversation.
“You know, LJ could spend more time at the company,” he says over his wine glass. “He’ll be graduating soon, and if Ash doesn’t have any interest.”
Dad sighs. “Ash has plenty of interest.”
My brother flops back in his chair, his eyes rolling. Christie places a hand on his arm, and his body reflexes ten percent.
“All we discuss is work, work, work,” Mrs. Prescott cuts in. “I’ve been hearing such wonderful things about the gala. We trust our table will be in a prime location?”
Mom grins. “Of course, Jane. Since when are the Prescotts not on the VIP list?”
Mrs. Prescott chuckles and moves her gaze toward me and LJ. “And are you two coordinating outfits?”
I choke. “Oh… Umm…”
“I’m having a killer tux made,” LJ boasts. “But if Ness wants me to change it, I will. Anything for her.”
“Oh, no… Umm, I…” Somehow I’m tongue-tied under everyone’s expectations.
Mom sets her wine glass down and hums a mocking laugh. “I think Vanessa has other plans.”
Mr. Prescott snorts, shaking his head. “Nonsense. These two are cute as a button together.”
LJ sighs, slinging an arm over the back of my chair. “It’s true. Vanessa hasn’t said yes to going to the gala with me.”
“Yet,” Mrs. Prescott adds with urgency.
Condescension curls Mom’s lips. “Are you a betting woman, Jane?”
Dad glares at Mom. “Hilda, what are you getting at?”
“I share a special bond with my daughter,” Mom says, fixing the diamond-encrusted rings on her bony fingers. “Let’s just say, I know what she’s thinking.”
With every line creasing my forehead, the ache in my head expands. Why is she doing this? She’s a sentence away from exposing Dax in the pool house. I thought it was in her best interest to keep my secret, so I didn’t blab hers.
Or…
Does she think I won’t reveal what I know? It has been months, and I haven’t said anything. But that was because I didn’t want to hurt Dad with the news. It should come from her.
But does she really want to lord control over me by broadcasting my relationship—not only in front of our family—but the Kleins and Prescotts too?
Dad straightens in his chair, tilting his head in my direction. “Vanessa, are you planning on taking a date to the gala?”
“Oh, I should mention,” LJ says, slipping his arm off my chair. “I told your father about that person I met at the tailor’s. I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t warn him.”
“Oh, I’m aware of what you did,” I say, clutching my water glass for a much-needed sip.
“That boy is in the past now,” my father interjects. “Right?”
I set the glass down and keep my eyes fixed on the stem. If I tell the truth, my dad will blow his top. If I lie, LJ’s arm will be around me instead of the chair.
I steal a look at my mother. She expects me to lie, but will she call me out on it? She’s practically salivating to reveal all she knows.
