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My father’s nostrils flare and he sucks on his teeth, a sure sign he’s angry at me, and I want so much to poke the bear and make him snap. It just wouldn’t be a family get together without some good old fashioned back and forth. But I am distracted by Lance’s amused smirk next to me.
“Eleanor, I have a gift for you.” Mum reaches into her handbag, pulls out an exquisitely wrapped box, and passes it over to me. “For your birthday.”
Here we go. I take it from her with a tight smile, I pull at the ribbon and carefully unwrap the paper to reveal a cream and gold box. Opening that, I unwrap the layers of tissue paper to reveal a fine silk scarf in bright orange with beige, blue, and white accentsdepicting what looks like a jungle scene with different animals.Yeah, I would never wear this. “Thank you,” I manage to grit out with a tight smile.
She smiles proudly at herself for her assumed success. The waiter returns with our drinks, allowing Dad to test the wine with pompous ceremony. With a nod he accepts the offering and glasses are filled, I down my rum and pass the glass back to the cute waiter with another ordered. He hurries away before my dad can say anything. I shoot a sarcastic smile to Dad and sit back to enjoy the buzz my first drink is already giving me.
“Eleanor, have you thought more about the offer?”
Eurgh. This again.
“Offer?” Lance looks at me.
“My company is offering Accountancy Internships. They do require an accounting degree, but I would be able to secure Eleanor a placement if she would be sensible for just a moment and fill out the application.” Dad speaks to Lance about me as though I am an errant child and not a grown woman who pays her own bills and is sitting at the same table as them.
“I have a job, Dad,” I say, on a sigh.
“Dancing for drunkards is not a career path.”
I let my head fall back between my shoulders and let out a groan of frustration just loud enough to draw attention from neighbouring tables and to piss my parents off. “Dad, do you think I’m a stripper?”
Again, a few tables nearby quieten to listen in to our conversation, causing Mum to glance around nervously. “Honestly Eleanor, could youpleasekeep your voice down?”
“Why? Am I embarrassing you?” I give her a look before turning to Dad. “I’m not a dancer, I’m a singer. I don’t dance for drunkards, I perform at a prestigious nightclub.”
Dad sniffs and goes back to looking at his menu, rolling his tongue over his teeth in aggravation.
“Have you ever heard Elle sing?” Lance asks, pinning Dad with a narrowed gaze.
He looks up at him with the first hint of animosity towards my ex-friend. “I lived with her for eighteen years, of course I’ve heard her singing. It was always ringing through the damn house.”
I try to not let his annoyed tone hurt me; I really do. But I can’t help the sharp pain that slices through my chest at his words. Momentarily, I lose my bravado, looking down at the tablecloth, hands linked in my lap while I attempt to swallow my emotions.
“Let me re-phrase,” Lance continues. “Have you ever seen Elle perform?”
“I don’t think it would be appropriate for her parents to watch that kind of performance. I’ve seen the website; I’ve seen the pictures.” Dad speaks quietly through clenched teeth, his disdain coating every word.
“I’ll admit, Elle’s performances are provocative.” Lance’s gaze is stone cold as he regards my father, and my whole body flinches as I feel his palm rest on the bare skin of my thigh under the table. “But there is nothing perverted or offensive about the club’s acts from any of the performers. You should know, Elle is the single most talented singer I have ever heard, at the club or otherwise. She is also the number one earner; not just personally, but for the business as a whole.” His hand glides up and down my leg, the gesture oddly comforting and not overtly sexual, although my skin tingles at his touch.
“On the nights Elle performs, drinks sales are up thirty-percent compared to other nights. And that is her, not the day of the week, because those figures still stand when she changes nights. However, at the times that she’s performing, sales fall because everyone is too busy dancing, listening, and just having the best time.
“Your daughter is immensely gifted, profitable, and respected in her work. I find it unthinkable that the two people who are genetically programmed to care for her the most, have never once bothered to take an interest in the amazing contribution she is making to this world.” He stands, buttoning his jacket and straightening his sleeves. “I have no desire to sit and listen to you insult and belittle Elle under the pretence of a birthday treat. And if Elle has any self-respect, she won’t stay either.” With that, he walks out of the restaurant.
I can’t do anything but stare at Lance’s retreating back with my jaw hanging open. I’ve never walked out on my parents, but I really don’t want to stand for Lance Preston questioning myself-respect—not again. I look back at my parents, Mum is straightening her already straight cutlery with flared nostrils and pursed lips while Dad stares at me, sucking his teeth and waiting for me to make my decision.
The waiter brings my second drink over, I down it in one without a second thought and leave my parents to themselves. My ‘hooker heels’ clack loudly on the wooden floor with every stride. I exit the warm, into the cool night air. Lance is waiting for me, standing smug with his hands in his pockets and a heavy brow. His eyes are dark, and he looks dangerous. When I see him, I stop; my breath sticks in my chest, where my heart is thumping.Fuck, he looks hot. I want him.No. No. No.NO. Unacceptable. In an instant, all the heat turns to pure rage. How dare he?How fucking dare he?
“I do not need you to fight my battles,” I growl through clenched teeth. “I managed my parents just fine for eighteen years before you came along, and I’ve done pretty well for the last three years without you. So why don’t you fuck off back to whatever hole you’ve crawled out of. I. Don’t. Want. You. Here.” I punctuate the last statement with a jab of my finger into his chest with each word.
His beautiful face transforms as he snarls, baring bright white teeth at me. He grabs my forearm with a bruising grip and pulls me down the narrow alley between the restaurant and its neighbour. The smell of delicious food wafts through a steaming vent in the wall, and the glow of the streetlights dims significantly so I can barely make out his features as he presses me into the wall. The rough brick snags at my dress and my chest heaves, pressing my breasts into Lance with each inhale. There is barely an inch between us, and his fingers, still imbedded in my arm, tighten to the point of pain. “Contrary to your strongest beliefs,sweetheart, not everything is about you.”
“Gate-crashing dinner with my parents isn’t about me?”
“Like it or not, Elle, Starlight Lounge will fall under Preston Property very shortly and I will be in your life. So, you had better get used to it.”
“And as my boss, you’re going to be attending family events?” I spit.
“I was invited, I was just being polite.” He gives me a sardonic smile.
