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She lurched out of the car; her stomach coming along for the ride. She took a deep breath to avoid vomiting. She hadn’t meant to let things get so out of control. In the mirror, she was unrecognizable; hell, her life was unrecognizable. She was cheating, having public sex, and having even more public arguments. Tate at least kept his indiscretions with Skylar (and God knew who else) restricted to dark kitchen pantries.
She shuffled across the parking lot and affixed her winning smile as she opened the front door and greeted the hostess. I can do this, Tildy told herself. Her whole life was a masquerade; surely this could just be another one. As she approached the table, Tate and his father, John, rose to greet her. Tate gave Julia the perfunctory kiss on the cheek and proceeded to sit down between her future mother-in-law and her fiancée.
“Sorry I’m late,” she told them sheepishly. “I got hung up at the bank.”
Julia smiled, unconcerned. “Oh, that’s alright dear.”
Tildy willed her hands to stop shaking, as she picked up the menu. Talk quickly devolved into work and the upcoming engagement party. Tildy talked mostly with Julia, as Tate’s eyes seemed to have glazed over at the mention of the party.
“My mother decided to book the Custer hotel’s ballroom,” Tildy told Julia.
Julia started to frown.
Tildy was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to defend the choice, and Abby. Abby had worked damn hard to renovate the old hotel and Tildy had come to think of her as a friend. “It’s beautiful,” she assured Julia. “The new owner, Abby Raines, is working so hard to restore the building. It’ll be amazing when she’s finished.”
“Well, we hope so,” Julia replied and smiled at Tate. “We want it to be perfect, don’t we, Tate?”
Tate was texting on his phone and not paying them any attention. Julia seemed to be more than slightly perturbed at her son’s rudeness. “Tate,” she said in a clipped tone. Tate looked up from his phone. Tildy wondered if Julia gave Tate some ‘corrections’ of her own in private.
“I said we want the engagement party and the reception to be perfect,” Julia repeated for her son’s benefit.
Tate grinned at his mother and slid his phone into the pocket of his khakis. “Absolutely.”
As Julia leaned toward her husband and discussed whom they should invite to the engagement party Friday night, Tate leaned toward Tildy. He didn’t say anything, but his hand landed on her knee and started up her thigh. He grinned at her.
Tildy’s heart fluttered. The last thing she needed was for Tate to find out she was missing her panties, or make any other unfortunate discoveries for that matter. She jerked suddenly, shaking the table. She had another surge of panic, but thankfully, Julia and John didn’t seem to notice.
“Something wrong?” Tate whispered in her ear.
Tildy shook her head forcefully and crossed her legs. She reached for a glass of water and drank deeply as Tate gave her a curious look. She blushed furiously and looked away. Tate’s interest, however, didn’t wane. In fact, Tildy’s overreaction to his advances seemed to only pique his interest. He tried repeatedly to get his hand between her legs, as their main course was brought out. He seemed to be even more amused that his parents sat only a few feet away.
When the check came, Tildy practically bolted up out of the chair. When Julia gave her a puzzled look, Tildy just smiled. “Work,” she said with a shrug. Julia, herself, did not work but could appreciate the concept as both her husband and son had to get back to their office as well.
As the four of them headed toward the door, Tate gripped her elbow good-naturedly. Tildy winced, because he’d grabbed the injured one. At first he merely look confused, then realization dawned on him. He simply dropped her elbow and took her hand. “Don’t run off so fast. I don’t get to see much of you,” he crooned to her, a bit more loudly than he should have, but Tildy had the idea that he was trying to cover for his mistake.
Julia gave them a knowing smile, clearly not getting Tate’s little joke about not getting to see much of Tildy. John was already at his own car and simply gave them all a half-salute while Tate followed Tildy to her car.
“I have to go,” she told him, walking as fast as she could.
“Got somewhere to be?” Tate teased, not letting go of her hand.
“Work, I said.”
Tate didn’t reply. He watched his mother pull out of the restaurant parking lot behind his father, smiling as he watched his parents leave. Then he pressed her up against her car and put his hand on her bare thigh. Tildy tried to push it away, but he shook his head. “No one can see,” he told her. He lifted the hem of her skirt.
