AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I feel more in control of myself as we pull up to the estate, my remote control giving me unfettered access through the heavy iron gate. As we drive in, I notice the cars filling the parking area... minus Kyle’s motorcycle, of course, because there’s nothing that sets him off more than a mandatory appearance requirement. He’s probably left the city, if not the state, for the night.
“The whole gang’s here,” I note as I park. Looking over, I take Samantha’s hand. “You ready?”
“Is that a trick question?” she replies. “No one could be ready for this. It’s like asking if I’m prepared for a zombie apocalypse, but the zombies are all raccoons, and I’m armed with a whisk and a prayer. And you know how much I love raccoons.”
“A what?” I laugh, still not sure exactly what she just said. But she’s right, dinner at the Harrington estate with my whole family, plus Aunt Viv, is nearly apocalyptic, and no amount of planning or strategizing is enough.
CHAPTER21
SAMANTHA
This is a big fucking deal.
Chance has been anxious about this dinner since Kayla made her surprise appearance, and I’ve done everything I can to help him chill, to no avail. I’m not sure if it’s the aunt thing, or his dad, or me?
Now that we’re here, I’m freaking out a bit... on the inside. Outside, I look around at the impressive Harrington estate as though it’s a typical suburban home, despite the artificially perfect green lawn, the scale of the front porch, and the museum-worthy statue in the center of the driveway.
Yep, nothing to see here... just a little-dicked Greek god standing amid spitting water streams.
Outside, I try to make it seem like that’s what I’m thinking. Inside’s a whole different story.
I do not belong here, for so many reasons.
Chance takes my hand as we approach the front door but stops short, staring at a large, deep red Lincoln Navigator with a custom license plate that saysCHUCK. Sighing deeply, he mumbles, “Shit. I should’ve known.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Kayla said Aunt Viv was coming. I knew that meant her annoying son would be here, but I didn’t know my grandparents were coming.”
“I feel like I’m supposed to know why that’s bad, but I don’t.” I’m looking at the SUV like these unwanted grandparents might hop out and attack us, whether physically with smacking hugs, emotionally with backhanded compliments, or gastronomically with expired Werther’s candies from the bottom of her purse.
Chance drops his voice, and speaking quickly, he tells me, “Grandpa was a bit of an old-fashioned chauvinist with his kids. Only cared about having a son and started off with four daughters. When he finally had Dad, he put everything into him. Time, resources, education... the company. My aunts were hurt, in particular, Viv. And she brings it up. A lot. Grandpa learned... too late.”
Still processing, I say, “Sounds like your dad didn’t learn much from that example, huh? He didn't treat you and your siblings much better.”
Chance blinks, his brows furrowing like this is new information, but surely, he’s put that together before. It’s so obvious. You parent the way you were parented unless you make a conscious effort to do something else. Hopefully, something that breaks the cycle.
Before we can dig deeper into the idea of generational trauma, the front door opens. Chance doesn’t introduce me to the man who answers, who acts as if he’s as invisible as the air around us as he steps out of sight behind the door, reminding me of the staff at the fancy restaurant. No wonder Chance didn’t give their behavior a second’s notice, it’s the same at home. Instead Chance leads me deeper into the house as the heavy door slams shut behind me. I suddenly feel trapped in an extremely gilded cage.
This is ridiculous—house staff, a foyer the size of my entire apartment, and a family line where inheriting an entire company is the norm.
I whisper to Chance, “I can’t imagine growing up like this.”
Chance glances around, and though he’s been honest and recognizes his privilege, he seems to not see anything unusual in his childhood home. “To me, this is normal. Never knew anything different. Just home, sweet home.”
“Remind me to smack you later for that,” I tease. The way he grew up isn’t his fault, it’s just a fact of life, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give him a little good-natured hell for it. Especially when it breaks the tension.
“Whatever it’s for, it’s deserved,” Kayla interjects as she comes from a side doorway, only hearing the last bit of my conversation with Chance and instantly on my side.
She looks stunning—blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect, lightly tanned skin, and wearing a dress that I suspect is custom. If she wasn’t so damned sweet, I’d hate her out of jealousy, but she’s kind as can be. Bitch... she’s giving me girl crush vibes, hard.
And I respect her brains... a lot.
“Agreed,” I tell Kayla as she leans in to press our cheeks together.
As she pulls away, she flashes a knowing grin. “I can greet you properly this time since you both have clothes on.”
Grinning right back, I answer with a little faux casual shrug of my shoulders. “Would’ve been more awkward than you even know if you’d tried it last time.”
