“I’m sorry, boarding school?” I ask, not bothering to hide the shock in my tone.
“Yes. Of course. The last three generations of Hazelwoods have gone to Green Briar, it’s the leading coed boarding school in the country. Hasn’t Baron told you about his time there? He looks back on it fondly, I know.”
Thank God Willow’s outside on her phone, or I know she would have bust out laughing at the absurdity of this.
I grew up with distant, disconnected parents. Heck, Rose, my childhood nanny, was more of an influence on me than they were. And I swore that if I ever had children, they would knownothing but unconditional love from me.
Boarding school is not an option.
To say nothing of the fact that I’m not planning on becoming pregnant any time soon. The very idea of going on a list for some hypothetical child that will exist some time in the future is absolutely insane.
“Baron and I have not discussed his time there,” I say stiffly, meeting her gaze head-on. Her eyes narrow, as if she senses the fight that’s coming. “But I can assure you, I do not agree to my future children attending boarding school.”
Cordelia doesn’t rise to my statement. She simply sniffs, turns away without another word, and walks out of the boutique.
Honestly, I’m counting that as a win.
After the horrifying dress shopping experience, Willow and I went to lunch. When I told her about the boarding school bomb, she was suitably horrified on my behalf.
And even now, hours later, as I head to Dan’s house to watch a movie with him, I can’t stop fuming about the entire situation.
It’s one thing to take over my wedding. But to try and control the way I will raise my future children is too far.Boarding school.I realize, for some families, that’s the best option. But that’s not even up for consideration in my mind. And the next time I talk to Baron on the phone, it won’t matter if he’s on the other side of the country doing who-knows-what for the firm. I’ll be telling him that it will never happen. Ever.
I knock on Dan’s front door, then turn the knob. He never leaves it locked when he knows I’m coming over.
But I guess I’m early tonight, either that or he’s running late. Because I come to an abrupt halt just inside when he walks into the living room shirtless. His trim, muscular body is on full display, right down to the trail of dark hair running from his belly button down…
“Lark!” he says, his eyes widening. He’s holding a shirt in one hand, and his shaggy dark hair looks wet. “You’re…you’re here. Shit. What time is it?”
I can feel my cheeks growing red, which is ridiculous. It’s not as if I haven’t seen him without a shirt before. Heck, most of my workdays are spent surrounded by muscular baseball players in various stages of undress.
There’s something about this moment, in his home, just the two of us, that feels different, however. Intimate, in a way.
“Sorry, I guess I’m early?” I say, casting my eyes to the side. He pulls the shirt in his hand over his head and moves toward me.
“It’s fine, you just surprised me.” He sounds a lot calmer than before, and certainly more than I feel. But I glance over to see he’s heading toward the kitchen. “Pizza will be here in half an hour. Want a beer?”
I follow him, grateful to have moved past that awkward moment, whatever it was. “I’m not sure that’s going to be strong enough, but yeah.”
Dan looks at me with a half smile. “That bad, huh?”
“Death by tulle was a definite possibility.”
His deep chuckle has me relaxing for the first time all day. It’salways like this with him, easy and fun.
“Tulle? Really? I would have thought sequins would be more of a risk to your well-being.”
“It was all dangerous.” I take a long pull from the bottle of beer he gives me. “But you want to know the worst part? It wasn’t even the uncomfortable dresses that made me struggle to breathe. Oh no.” I stand up, unable to stay seated for this tirade. I pace Dan’s kitchen, clutching my bottle of beer in two hands. “Baron’s mother had the freaking audacity to tell me she’s already got my nonexistent future children on some wait list for a boarding school. Boarding school! Who the hell even goes to boarding school aside from, like, politician’s kids or whatever? Good Lord, as if I would want my kids raised anywhere but at home with their parents. No, thank you, not happening. I mean, my childhood sucked, but at least I saw my parents at dinnertime and lived under the same roof as them. And come on! I’m not even married, and she’s already planning my child’s future? There’s control freak, and then there’s Cordelia Hazelwood.”
I stop, breathing heavily, and turn to see Dan leaning against the counter, his brown eyes wide. “Say something. Please tell me you agree that she’s nuts.”
His head slowly starts to move side to side. “Nuts isn’t even strong enough, but I don’t want to be offensive to people who struggle with their mental health. She stepped so far over every single fucking line, it’s not even funny. I’m sorry, Lark.” He frowns. “Boarding schools might be a good option for some families, but I can’t imagine not having my kids at home. If I ever have them.”
I tilt my beer bottle toward him. “Exactly.”
“Mother-in-law drama aside, did you find a dress?”
I groan, letting my head fall forward. “No, but Cordelia did.”
