Page 70 of The Game We Played

“Kinesiology?”

“No. Medical school and then a surgical residency.”

“Tanner doesn’t want to go to medical school.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the woman next to Tanner’s dad says. I assume it’s his mom. “He will study medicine and become a surgeon.”

“It’s what we all did,” one the men standing behind Tanner’s dad says.

“Hold on. Maybe we should all introduce ourselves.” I point to myself. “As you know, I’m Alaia Jackson.” I hold out my hand. “You must be Mr. Long.”

Tanner’s dad ignores my hand. “It’s Dr. Long. And I don’t shake hands.”

“None of us do,” the woman next to his dad says. “And we’re all Dr. Long.”

My brow wrinkles. “How do people keep you apart? Are you numbered? Dr. Long, one through five?”

“You are not amusing,” Tanner’s dad says.

I shrug. “Most people think I am.”

“I am not most people. I’m a neurosurgeon.” He says the word ‘neurosurgeon’ as if itmeans he’s a god.

I’m not impressed. Correction. I’m slightly impressed. Anyone who can make it through medical school and then internships and residency or whatever it is you need to complete to become a neurosurgeon has my respect.

But it doesn’t give him the right to walk into my bar and act like a smuggler whose loot has been stolen by a pirate.

I fist my hands on my hips. “Tell me what you came here to say.”

“I’ve already said it. You’re ruining Tanner’s future. You need to end this relationship now before anyone gets hurt.”

Before anyone gets hurt? I’m definitely going to get hurt when my relationship with Tanner ends. Because it’s no longer fake to me. It hasn’t been for a while. I’ve been afraid to admit it. Afraid of how Tanner will steamroll me if he knows my feelings are involved.

But even he admitted I didn’t need him to defend myself. Huh. Maybe Tanner is the one man who won’t try to manipulate me. And maybe I should think about this at a time when his family isn’t confronting me.

“Tanner’s an adult. You don’t get to decide what he does. What career he follows. Who he’s involved with. None of it is your business unless he decides it is.”

Dr. Long – the dad one – scowls. “Wrong.”

I hold up my hands. “I’m not a neurosurgeon or anything, but I’m pretty sure I’m correct.”

“He’s a Long. He will become a doctor,” his mom says.

“Whether he wants to or not?”

“It doesn’t matter what he wants. It’s his obligation to us, his family.”

I widen my eyes. “Tanner has an obligation to become a doctor because he’s a part of your family? Am I understanding this correctly?”

“I know it’s confusing for a simple bartender, but things work differently in our family,” Tanner’s dad says.

I ignore the jab at my profession. I won’t be a bartender forever. I have dreams. And a family that supports me. My family would never force me to become something I don’t want to be.

Tanner deserves what I have. He doesn’t deserve his family arriving atBootleggerdressed as if they’re ready to do legal battle. They should love him, support him. But they don’t.

I’m done. I’ve tried to be nice. I’ve tried to point out the errors of their ways. But there’s no reasoning with these people.

“Get out.”