Page 78 of Sterling Fight

“She entered at the same time as the Remingtons, and they decided to be seated together. There’s space for another chair.” The hostess glances anxiously between Genie and me.

Everything in me says run. Hike Genie over my shoulder and just get out of here, but the gleam in Genie’s eyes was dim this morning, caught between anxiety and obligation. She wants to do right by a woman who doesn’t deserve her concern, and I remind myself I’m here for Genie.

27

[Genie]

Icannot believe my mother did this to me—to us—by accepting an invitation to sit with the Remingtons.

Since Judd hung up on my mother last week, guilt hit me hard, and I sent her a text telling her I had bad reception. I promised to call her later in the week. I hadn’t called. She sent me a text requesting—no demanding—we meet for brunch.

I remind myself this is what I’d wanted. I’d originally planned to arrive on Friday, spend four days with my mother and celebrate her day on Mother’s Day, in hopes she’d celebrate a special day with me on Monday.

Spending an hour or two with the Remingtons is the last thing I want to do, and I don’t want to put Judd through this torture either.

“We can leave,” I turn toward him as the hostess steps into the main dining room.

Judd cups my cheeks, his eyes tender, his touch light. “Is this meal important to you?” Somehow, he’s sensed that it is. I wouldn’t have accepted being here otherwise, I guess.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Then we weather it together.” He takes my hand, and lifts it to his lips, kissing my knuckles near his mother’s ring and then slipping his fingers between mine.

I like the fit, and the strength of his hand boosts my confidence as I turn to face the dining room and instantly see Heather standing a few feet from us. Her face dumbstruck. Mouth agape. Then her icy eyes narrow and she glares at Judd, killing him with a glance before stalking away.

Is it wrong to be hopeful she’s leaving?

The hostess remains stationary, waiting on Judd and me, and I finally force my leaden feet to move into the dining room.

As we near the table, I catch the eye of my stepfather. Lester Hurley isn’t a bad man, I just don’t know him very well. He arches a brow and musters a weary smile. If he has any sympathy for me, he doesn’t dare show it, especially when I meet my mother’s eye next.

Disapproval wavers around her like a dark aura. She scans down my dress, the look not appraising but critical. As I lean forward to press a kiss to her cold cheek, she mutters to me.

“I’ve never seen you look so full, Virginia. Perhaps a strapless dress wasn’t the best choice for brunch.”

“Excuse me,” Judd growls beside me but I squeeze his hand. We might be in this together, but I need to face my mother on my own terms.

“She looks radiant,” Judd adds, and I catch him looking at me. His eyes bright and full of something I can’t read but I’m grateful for him standing beside me.

Judd pulls out an empty chair for me beside my mother and then helps himself to the vacant seat beside me at the round table.

“That was Heather’s spot,” Carl Remington states. The sixty-something, gray-haired man with a mustache narrows his eyes at Judd. “What happened to your eye?”

Judd’s cheek is swollen and the telltale sign of a black-eye is present despite the rim of his dark glasses attempting to cover the bruise.

“We’re getting another chair,” Cheyanne quickly interjects, preventing Judd from answering. The poor girl. The tension surrounding this table could not be cut with a machete.

My mother leans toward me although she doesn’t lower her voice. “Was bringing him really necessary?”

I lift my left hand, flashing my ring finger at her. The one she demanded to see a week ago. “Yes. He’s my fiancé.”

In many ways, my mother started this whole thing. Despite Judd announcing I was his fiancée, my mother was the one who demanded to see a ring. So here it is.

I’m playing into the fib, and yet, so many pieces of our lie don’t feel like a lie.

Judd’s hand finds my thigh beneath the table, emphasizing one of those things that make our situation feel a little too real. I cover the back of his hand, squeezing tightly, like I don’t intend to let him go.

“Funny how that happened so quickly,” Carl Remington states, glaring at Judd.