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That new life I keep harping on about? It’s happening right now, and I’m almost missing out on it.
Like there should be a different kind of proposal on the table.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Chloe
Mom and dad look confused now, all of their anger depleted from lack of food and just a slight case of everything going way over their heads once Daphne’s finally shown her true colors.
Seeing Xander makes me forget all that, though.
It’s like seeing him for the first time every time I look at him.
In a few of his giant steps, he’s closer to our table. But I’ve already sprung out of my chair, racing to be in his arms again.
And I couldn’t care less if the whole world’s watching.
I can feel Daphne’s dagger eyes on us both and my own parents’ shock and anger.
But none of it means anything when I crash into Xander.
My man. My Xander, and I’m his.
The tenderness and strength of his grip on me, plus the look I know we both share says it all without words.
His mouth over mine is a little unexpected, but I get the direct feeling that he has big news.
Good news.
No. Great news. And I can’t wait to hear it.
“We need to get out of here,” he murmurs in my ear, gripping my hand in his before I can even say a word.
But before we can turn our backs, my mom’s jumped to her feet, and my dad always follows her.
Soon enough, the pair of them are blocking our exit.
“Oh no, you don’t,” my mom chides Xander, wagging her finger up at him, giving him the same look she gave me earlier when she threatened to send me to my room.
Xander quirks a brow and smiles at the side of his mouth.
I don’t think he likes my parents much, but I don’t think he’d ever do or say anything mean to hurt them either.
“You can’t just waltz in here and grab our daughter, kiss her like that, then walk straight back out again,” she says loudly in an accusing tone.
But Xander just shrugs, squeezing my hand a little tighter in his. “Why on earth not?” he asks, his smile widening at the idea.
“Because we’re coming with you,” my mom murmurs. “At least out of this place anyway… And that woman! She gives me the creeps!” she blurts out, shoving both her hands flat against Xander, urging him with actions and words to hurry the hell up and lead the way out of here.
All four of us are suddenly a team, ready to make our way to the nearest exit, and Xander seems to know his way around this old place better than anyone.
Even Ms. De Crazy Witch back there.
But we don’t quite make it to the huge doorway leading out of the dining room.
Kenneth Condor’s wheeled in by his trusted butler. A face on him like he’s just sucked a bag of lemons.
There’s no way such a weak, frail old man could physically stop us from leaving, but with a single look at Xander and his daughter, Daphne, he somehow convinces Xander to stay.
“Just wait a god damned minute before you go off all half-cocked,” the old man growls, shooing away his help.
He’s wheeling his own chair to the end of the table and hefting his tiny frame up out of it, and he takes his place at its head.
At his age, with his current health, he looks pitiful. But it’s easy to imagine him as a younger man, especially once I notice the huge oil-painted portrait of him or one of his not-so-distant relatives above the fireplace behind him.
His entrance being in time with our own attempted exit has caused a bit of a stir in the dining room, but Kenneth Condor’s quick to invite everyone to carry on with their meals.
“And that includes you, Xander,” he adds sternly, looking from Xander to me and then my parents.
Yeah, he’s old and a complete asshole, but something is endearing about his attitude. Something about him makes us take our seats again, even if it’s just to see exactly where all this is leading.
“I told them, dad,” Daphne says smugly, moving to stand by the old man, resting her hand on his shoulder.
“You told them what?” Condor quips. “That you plan to get rid of Xander and run my empire into the ground before my body’s even cold in it?” he snaps.
“You think I’m stupid as well as old, huh?” he berates her, fishing his hearing aid out of one ear.
“These hear more than what’s being said right in front of me,” he reminds everyone. “I can tune in to any room or office I want, right here,” he says, tapping his earpiece.
Telling the whole world in his own way that Kenneth Condor’s body might be failing, but he’s as sharp as a razor when it comes to staying informed.
