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But somehow, I can’t feel even a little bad for him because not only is Hayes Ambrose dead set on making my life miserable because I heard something I shouldn’t have, but he’s also now going to be my stepbrother. Could this day get any worse?
8
“Morgan, you’ve been awfully quiet. Is everything all right?” Mr. Ambrose sets down his knife and fork, and his dazzling smile reaches me across the table. “I can have Charlotte fix you something else if this doesn’t agree with you.”
“Oh, no, this is great. It’s delicious.” And it is. I don’t think I’ve ever had roasted chicken this tasty. The potatoes and vegetables are good enough that even Lucy seems to love them. “It’s like eating at a nice restaurant.”
“Do you eat at a lot of nice restaurants?” Hayes mutters from across the table, his remark clearly meant as an insult.
“The restaurant at the hotel was nice,” Lucy chimes in. “They always had chicken fingers.” Lucky kid. She has no idea. To my surprise, his lips twitch a little, like he’s about to smile. He bites it back before it forms, though, glaring at me before staring down at his plate.
He’s what’s wrong with me right now. If it wasn’t for the way he’s spent the entire time glaring at me, I would eat until my stomach hurt. Right now, it’s almost all I can do to chew and swallow. It’s easier to push food around on my plate and wonder how the hell I’m supposed to get through this.
My stepbrother. We’re going to have to live in the same house together.
“So tell me, Hayes.” Mom picks up her glass of wine, swirling it a little as she speaks. “Your father told me you’re the captain of the swim team. Is it true you might be in competition for a college scholarship?”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t even glance up at her.
“We should go to one of your swim meets. I’m sure Morgan would like to go.” Mom turns my way, her lips turned up into a smile. “Right? It would be good for you to meet more people at school, as well.”
“That’s not necessary.” Hayes shakes his head.
“Hayes, it will be a good way for Morgan to get to know everybody at school. Don’t you want her to have the same experience you have?”
All Hayes does is snort at his dad’s suggestion. I look down at my plate and wish I were anywhere in the world but here. I want to sink into the floor and never come back. How many of these family dinners will we have to suffer through? I’m not even sure I’ll make it through this one.
“How are you liking school?” Mr. Ambrose asks in a slightly tighter voice than before. He’s trying. I have to give him credit for that.
“It’s big.” I have to giggle a little at myself. “But I managed not to get lost so far. I met a really nice girl today, and she seems like she wants to be friends.”
“Really?” Hayes interjects, his interest piques as he looks up from his plate. “Who?”
Great. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. “Salem.”
Mr. Ambrose smiles. “Salem’s a nice girl. She’s been here a few times, hasn’t she, son?”
Hayes lifts an eyebrow, ignoring his father’s comment. “You? Friends with Salem?”
I know better than to give in to his antics, but I can’t help it. “Yeah. We have English together, and we’re sitting together at lunch.”
“Oh, best friends forever.” He rolls his eyes, then snickers before going back to pushing his food around the way I’m doing to mine.
“What else do you like to do, Hayes? Your dad makes it sound like you’re pretty popular at school.” Mom is turning on the full charm for her fiancé’s sake, something that is painfully obvious to me but might not be so obvious to somebody who doesn’t know her the way I do. The poor guy looks so happy. I can’t get over how happy he looks. I almost feel bad knowing how things have ended for all the other men who thought they could hook their claws into my mother and make her stay.
Hayes, meanwhile, is anything but happy. He lifts a shoulder, not bothering to look at her. “I guess so. I know a lot of people.”
“Hayes, don’t act like we’ve never had a guest before.” Mr. Ambrose grins across the table at Mom. “Even if none of them have ever been your future stepmother.”
“I would love it so much if you would call me Mom,” my mother adds at exactly the wrong moment.
His head snaps up, fury in his eyes. “No. I’m never calling you Mom.” He pounds his fist on the table for effect, making us all jump along with the silverware and glasses. Poor Lucy whimpers, her eyes welling up with tears. Me? I’ve seen how quickly his mood can change, so I’m not the slightest bit surprised.
