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“Son, please wait until we are all seated.”
Rory rolled his eyes and took a seat.
I set my sights back on Bridgette, who still stood in the hall. “Hello. How are you?” My voice shook a bit. I never thought I’d be intimidated by a sixteen-year-old, but there I was.
“Fine.” She sounded like she was holding back her emotions.
“How was your first day at Fair Hollow High?”
“Fine.” She flitted toward the table.
Well, that was a disaster.
Patrick gave me a look of encouragement and commiseration. Did Bridgette only give one-word answers to him too?
“Shall we sit?” Patrick invited me.
I nodded, afraid of saying anything for fear it might be the wrong thing. I had no experience with teenagers.
Patrick rested a hand on my lower back, guiding me toward what felt like the Inquisition. “I wanted to properly introduce Isabelle to you. I hope you will make her feel welcome.” He gave them meaningful looks, like they’d had this discussion before and maybe they had every intention of hating me.
“Hi.” I did some lame beauty queen wave like I was on a parade float and not on trial. “It’s really nice to meet both of you.”
“Can we eat now?” Rory asked. “I’m starved.”
Patrick sighed, knowing this wasn’t going well. He pulled out my chair for me. I would be seated between him and Bridgette. This should be fun.
I took my seat, suddenly not feeling all that hungry. I gave Bridgette a bright smile anyway.
She blinked at me as if I were boring her.
Patrick took his seat next to me and grabbed my hand under the table. It was probably the only reason I didn’t run out the door.
“Do you think Drake can introduce me to that French babe in his new movie for pretending this is happening?” Rory pointed between Patrick and me.
“Um ... I—”
“Son,” Patrick interrupted, “I told you, my feelings for Isabelle are not pretend.”
That was at least comforting.
“But can I still meet her? She’s a real baddie.” Rory wagged his brows.
“I don’t know. I could talk to him,” I offered. “Also, what’s a baddie?”
Rory got a dreamy look in his eye. “It’s a hot chick. You know, probably how you looked when you were younger.”
Ouch. This kid was making me feel ancient. I had no idea how to respond to that.
Patrick rubbed his head, as if Rory were giving him a headache. “This is not how we talk about women.”
“I’m so sorry, Father,” Rory said in a mockingly stiff British accent. “Isabelle, could you please introduce me to the fair French chick?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Patrick also cracked a smile.
“Awesome. Can we eat now?” Rory asked.
