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AWKWARD MEETING
Alexis
Twisting the hem of the short navy dress my mom insisted I buy when we went shopping, I squirm uncontrollably on the leather seat in the back of Preston Whitmore’s town car while his driver, Henry, navigates through town. Butterflies flap their wings rapidly inside my belly as I uncross my legs, shift in the seat, and cross them again. My muscles twitch, my heeled foot bouncing frantically as we stop at a red light.
My mom’s manicured fingernails stop tapping against her phone screen, her head lifting and leveling me with a pointed, annoyed glare. “Stop. Fidgeting,” she snaps through gritted teeth, her tone sharp as nails.
Her irritated tone doesn’t faze me. I’ve developed thicker skin over the years due to her aggravating bullshit.
“Stop frowning, Mom. You’ll give yourself wrinkles.”
My mom’s eyes bulged from panic. Switching to her camera app, she studies her face, turning her head from side to side, tilting it at various angles. I nearly burst out laughing but managed to turn my head, biting my lip and pretending to cough to disguise it.
When I face my mom, she stares at me in horror. “You’re not getting sick, are you? Preston and I have a trip planned and—”
“No, Mom,” I huff, exasperated with her. “It’s just allergies.”
I’m allergic to Preston’s affluent lifestyle, which I’m convinced is all smoke and mirrors for an entitled asshole who thinks he rules the world. I’m sure his son is no different.
“Good.” Her eyes narrow as I shift again, my fingers nervously twisting the necklace around my throat. The heart pendant hangs from a delicate gold chain. It was a birthday present given to me by my Gram a year before she died, and I cherish it more than anything else I own.
My mom’s lips twist in disgust as she stares at the necklace, then raises her gaze to mine, her expression stern. “I thought I told you not to wear that gaudy thing?”
Counting to ten, I exhale and give her a fake smile. “I need something to ease my nervousness. You wouldn’t want me making a fool of myself tonight, would you?”
My mom snorts, looking away. She stares straight ahead, her forehead wrinkled and lips pursed. I’m about to make another comment about wrinkles when she heaves out an exasperated sigh and turns to me. “Just get it together before dinner with Preston and Evan. I swear, Lexi, you’ll be in trouble if you embarrass me.” She flips a lock of chestnut hair over her shoulder.
Letting out a huff, I fold my arms across my bust, my foot swinging from the irritation coursing through me. I’m about to roll my eyes and bite out a sarcastic reply when I spot Preston’s mansion in the distance as the town car rolls up the hill.
Great. House of horrors straight ahead.
Turning back to my mom, I give her a syrupy, sweet smile. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
She eyes me with suspicion before she finally smiles. “Good.” Patting my knee, she begins barking instructions. “Remember. Good posture. No elbows on the table…” her voice drones on, but I tune her out.
Like hell I’m going to do all the dumb shit she’s asking.
My gaze rakes over the lush, sprawling grounds and the huge stone mansion in the distance. A shiver rolls through me as I stare at the imposing house peeking through the trees.It looks creepy despite the beautiful weather.
The car finally stops in front of a massive stone and iron arch. Henry punches a code into a remote, and the gates swing open, allowing our entry.
My mom nudges me. “Isn’t it amazing? Keep your eyes peeled. The first view of the house is enchanting.” She excitedly bounces in her seat like a schoolgirl, clapping her hands together.
Disgust fills me as I watch her theatrics. And she was lecturing me on how to behave.
As we draw closer to the sprawling estate, my gaze travels over the contrast of the light gray stone surrounded by the dark roof, balcony, and windowsills. Giant shrubs line the front and the walkway. A huge fountain separates the walkway leading from the steps and the driveway that circles it.
Yup, spooky. Preston and Evan are probably as eccentric as their eerie house.
Taking a deep breath, my muscles tense as I brace myself. The car stops, and Preston descends the stairs.Oh great. The pretentious asshole is coming to greet us.
My mom exited the car first, giving me a moment of reprieve before I followed behind her. Preston greets me with a fake, polite smile, and we make idly chit-chat before he takes my mom’s arm and gestures for me to follow them.
My heels click up the stairs, dread settling over me like a steel curtain when I enter the front door. Scanning the opulent foyer, I can’t help but be impressed and intimidated by the lavish house I’m standing in. It’s a far cry from the middle-class house and neighborhood I grew up in.
My gaze locks with a handsome young man's piercing, smoky eyes, the scowl on his face far from welcoming.
My gaze rakes over his perfectly chiseled face, his full, lush lips, and the way his silky black dress shirt hugs his muscular torso, then down his lower body in those black trousers—Jesus, those pants must be custom made for him—and to his expensive dress shoes on his feet. He’s attractive as hell, but the smugness cloaking him makes me bristle.
