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I knew my parents would go all out tonight. My mom has dreamed of snagging Parker as a daughter-in-law since she knew her best friend was having a girl.
Lucky for her, my mother hadtwosons for her best friend’s daughter to choose between. And I’m sure she’s happy Jameson is the one Parker settled on.
I can’t picture myself in his place anyway, standing by the stage that contains an eight-piece orchestra.IfI get married, which is a big if, this isn’t what the engagement party will look like. Doubt I’d even have an engagement party. As far as I can tell, it’s totally unnecessary. Just an excuse to spend a bunch of money on flowers and food and clothes before spending even more money on flowers and food and clothes for the wedding.
I tug at the constrictive collar of my shirt, then take another swig of scotch. The only reason I’d ever be excited about dressing up is if it was for an away game.
The open bar is the one upside I’ve discovered about thisevening so far. And I’m remaining close by it, because I have a feeling I’ll need to.
I arrived in LA a couple of hours ago, and I’m ready to leave. Even the sunshine and dry air aren’t enough of an enticement to stay. I had to miss afternoon practice to make my flight and my phone has been buzzing incessantly with messages about parties taking place tonight. All places I’d rather be.
Somerville is home now.
Not…this. Even if I wasn’t here for the reason I am, I’d be just as miserable. All of my friends are away at school, so there’s no one in town I want to hang out with.
I had an awkward reunion with my parents, which was expected. My dad was on a work call when the car they arranged from the airport dropped me off at my childhood home, and my mom was with two stylists having her hair done for tonight.
After showering and eating a snack, I changed into the tux I’m wearing. Most of the long trip here was my parents coordinating on who they’d talk to tonight, while I stared out the window at the standstill traffic. A five-mile drive took almost an hour.
I haven’t spoken to Jameson yet. Or Parker. Just observed them from afar, playing the part of the happy couple. I know them both well enough to see through the fake smiles.
“Aidan! How are you?”
I straighten to shake the hand of my father’s friend. “I’m good, thanks. Nice to see you, Mr. Mitchell.”
“Michael, please.” He smiles before ordering a drink from the bartender, then turns back to me. “How’s school going?”
“Fine, thanks.”
Not a lie for once, thanks to my recent studious streak. I caught up with all my reading on the three-hour flight here.
“And hockey?”
I grin. “Great. We should have a shot at a championship.”
“That’s fantastic. Lincoln mentioned you were having a great season.”
I could have quit the hockey team freshman year and my father would have no clue. He’s never been to a game or asked me about the team. As far as he knows, they’ve all been “great seasons.”
But I’m here to play a part too, and it’s not the role of a resentful son complaining to one of my father’s friends and business associates that my dad doesn’t give a shit about what makes me happy and considers hockey a waste of time.
“We are.”
“Have you given any thought to what you’ll do after graduation?”
I shake my head instead of bullshitting an answer like I probably should.
Michael Mitchell is a big deal, according to my father. If my dad was standing here, he would be flashing his widest, false smile and making something up about how I have so many opportunities to choose between but am keeping my options open.
“I’m always looking for new talent. Just say the word and I can put in a good one for you.” He winks, pulling a business card out of his pocket and passing it to me.
I’m not sure exactly what Michael does, but I do know he’s quite successful at it.
I also know I don’t want to use my family’s connections to get ahead.
“Appreciate that, sir,” I say, tucking the card into my pocket.
“I should go say hi to the Andersons,” he tells me. “Good luck with the rest of your season, Aidan. I’m sure I’ll see you at the wedding.”
