But decorating the tree is a momentary reprieve from the impending doom I’m about to face. Putting off these “meetings” has never served me well, so I might as well get it over with.
I don’t see a pen or paper, so I text Keats that I’ll see him later. Setting my phone down on the console, I slip my feet into my boots, grab my coat from the hook, and quietly exit the apartment. As soon as I close the door, I bend down to tie my laces, but realize I just left my phone inside.Dammit.I gently turn the knob only to be blocked by an automatic lock. “No.”Ugh.“For real with this?”
I can’t knock without waking Keats, so I abandon the idea and leave without it. The stairs aren’t so bad when going down. It’s the up that about killed me last night. Fortunately, I had Keats’s lips to resuscitate me.
Keats. It feels like I’m living in a dream with him.
I shouldn’t need an ally against my own parents, but I have no doubt he’d be here with me if I asked. It’s ridiculous that I trust a man I’ve only known for one night more than my own family.
I push out the door and luck into a cab passing by. Hopping in, I sit back with my father’s text plaguing me. I thought they’d be long gone on their vacation, so it leaves me worrying about why they stayed and what they want to talk about.
When I’m dropped off, I hurry to the gate to punch in the code, hoping to sneak in a shower before they realize I’m home. I shoulder the gate out of habit, only to realize it never unlocked.Huh. . . I punch the pound sign several times to clear the other code and reenter it. Again, the gate doesn’t budge. “Okaaaay. Odd.” I purse my lips to the side, confused. My stomach drops as my mind finally catches up and fills in the blanks. I press the voice communication button and wait for someone to answer.
“How may I help you?” I don’t recognize the male voice, but it is a holiday, so maybe he’s temporarily filling in.
“Hi, it’s Sosie. Sosie Stansbury. Do you mind buzzing me in?”
“Right away, Ms. Stansbury.” The lock unlatches so easily that I’m starting to think it’s no coincidence that my code didn’t work.
I’ve had knock-down, drag-out fights with my parents before, but my gut tells me that is not what’s about to happen.It’s worse.
CHAPTER 9
SOSIE
It’s quite an accomplishment to rip me from the high I was riding after the best night of my life to making me feel small and nothing more than a burden. But as I stand here waiting to be let into my own house, my father has managed to do just that with three simple words.Get home. Now.
It leaves me wondering at what age will I finally be treated like someone he cares about or, at the bare minimum, a human?
The door opens to an unfamiliar face staring back at me. Dressed in a suit, he holds his chin in the air with a stiff, straight back and says, “Your father is waiting for you in his office.”That’s not good.
No shower.
No brushed teeth.
No clean clothes.
This won’t go over well. I wipe my cashmere-gloved hand under my eyes in hopes of getting any of the remaining makeup cleared before entering. My pace is slow, the distance growing between this stranger working here and me. I swipe on lip balmand start taking off my coat, only to realize I forgot my sweater. A black tank, sweatpants, and combat boots aren’t going to go over well for a Stansbury. I stop just before entering the hall that leads to the office and the library wing of the house and take off my boots. Tucking my gloves in my pockets, I take a breath as I double-step to catch up. Just before the door opens, I attempt to smooth down my hair so it’s less disorderly.
I’m not going to fool him. It’s not about how I look, though he doesn’t appreciate it when I look like a “city kid,” as he calls it. This will be another lecture on behavior and expectations.Keep your mouth shut and listen, Sosie.Easy, and the best way to get through this unscathed.
The man opens the door and stands with his back to it. “Ms. Stansbury, Mr. Stansbury.”
I plaster a smile on my face and whisk myself forward. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”
He glances from the monitor on his desk to me before shifting his gaze to the new guy working the doors in this place and shooing him away with a flick of his hand. “Sit down.”
An acknowledgment of my existence would have been nice, but apparently, we don’t see eye to eye on the issue. I sit in a chair on the other side of the large, ornately carved desk and clasp my hands together in my lap, like a good daughter,and wait for the first round of attack.
I’m kept in suspense as seconds drag into a minute that feels like ten. But if my dad taught me anything, it’s that the one who holds out the longest wins. You’d think he’d be impressed that I was paying attention. He’s not.
Dressed in a freshly steamed light gray suit, his tie is straight, and not a hair is out of place. He doesn’t look rested despite his appearance and finally makes eye contact with me. His eyes mirror mine but hold a starkness I don’t recognize, and I hopeI never inherit. He’s been mad at me before, but I’m sensing something else is happening. Why is he acting so weird?
“Where have you been?” He finally speaks. The blunt question is asked in a harsh tone. He’s a yeller, always has been, but that’s not what this is. This is simmering anger about to explode.I tread carefully.
“With friends. It was late, so?—”
His hand flies up to stop me from talking. “Let me tell you about my night.”Okaaaay.“I hosted our annual holiday party for the company, our friends, and family. It’s usually a great event.”
