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Maxwell misses his shot, as he’s laughing too hard. David flips me off.
“Fuck off. She wasn’t that bad.”
“Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that.”
My response has him rolling his eyes as I turn away to take my next shot. Anything to take my mind off Tim’s mission.
Chapter Eighteen
Timothy
I wasn’t kidding last night when I said I would hate every second Angie wasn’t in bed with me. I slept like shit after I snuck back to my room, and missed her at breakfast, since she ate early, sequestering herself in Uncle Bill’s study with him for the morning. At least when we were waking up together, I knew she’d be having breakfast with me.
David makes himself scarce when Mom and Dad come down, probably because he doesn’t want to be questioned about his breakup with Robyn. Wimp. Mom makes generic conversation with Aunt Kelly until we’ve all cleared our plates and when she and Dad rise, I do as well.
“Can I have a moment?”
They start with surprise. But I can see in their eyes they probably know that this is about Angie. After all, I wasn’t exactly subtle last night at dinner.
Dad leads us to one of the smaller sitting rooms overlooking the front drive, the walls decorated with floral wallpaper. Mom takes her time to get situated, and Dad chats about work for five minutes until Gladys brings in a tray with a teapot and three cups. She melts out of the room after depositing the tray, closing the doors firmly behind her. Mom pours out three cups, handing them around, and looking at me expectantly. Before I can open my mouth to speak, Dad cuts across me.
“I suppose this is about Bill’s PA.”
I nod sharply. “Yes, sir.”
Mom sighs in that way she has that tells me she’s both disappointed and yet not surprised. “With a member of staff, Tim? We raised you better than that, son.”
Yeah, definitely disappointed. I bristle at the implication. Uncle Bill has made it pretty clear that Angie is way more than a “member of staff”. Not only that, but I have his blessing, which should be enough. It’s not like Mom hired her or anything.
“The boy is just letting off steam while on vacation, Janet.” Dad waves his hand at Mom, sounding dismissive. “It’s not exactly like there are a lot of options out here. Let him have his fun.”
“It’s a little more than just a bit of fun,” I argue defensively. They both turn to me with identical looks of shock splashed across their faces.
“You intend to continue this….” Mom pauses, looking like she stepped in dog shit, “affaironce you both return home?”
She looks like she’s about to faint, but her hand is steady as she raises her teacup to her lips. I don’t know about “intend”, but I sure as shitwantto continue it. I’m not nearly done with Angie yet.
“We haven’t discussed it. But whatever we decide, it’s really not anyone’s business but ours.”
“And Bill’s,” Mom interjects pointedly. “After all, she’s his PA.”
“Her name is Angie,” I bite back since neither of them has seen fit to use it this whole conversation. “And, as I said, what we do is no one’s business but ours. I’m letting you know the lay of the land, so you’re not blindsided by the fact that we’re sharing a bed.”
Mom looks both scandalized and condescending all at once as she wrinkles her nose the slightest amount, her eyes tight. She turns to Dad, like I didn’t just speak. Like I’m not even in the room.
“You need to have a conversation with Bill, Arthur.”
They share a pointed look. I’m not sure what that’s all about, but I have a feeling that Dad will not enjoy his conversation with Uncle Bill very much if he goes in there dismissive of Angie.
“Yeah, still sitting here.”
They both turn back to me in surprise. Dad sighs heavily, reaching over and clapping me on the shoulder. “Son, I’m sure she’s a nice girl. I’m sure you’re having a good time. But you’re a busy man. An important man. And you live in San Diego.”
“Yes, and she lives in Chicago,” Mom interjects, like I hadn’t already been agonizing over the logistics of this myself.
“Sometimes a vacation fling is just that, son.” Dad smiles at me, clapping my shoulder again as he rises, heading to the door. Once he’s gone, Mom surveys me over the rim of her teacup for a long moment.
“I imagine she’s not like anyone else you’ve ever dated,” Mom says at last, surprising me with her insight.
