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They hold their hands out for me to shake, which I do. I try to smile. “It’s nice to meet you both.”
Without answering, they turn to hug Andie, but not as grandparents should. It’s an arms-length hug. And they call her Andrea. When Beckett reminds them that she prefers Andie, they make a comment about it being a masculine name and not appropriate for a young lady.
They invite us inside. It seems there are about twenty other people already here. The large, exceedingly long dining room has an equally long fancy table set for everyone. They even assign seats. We’re seated next to his father and Buffy.
I smile to myself as I think how different this is from dinners at Darian and Jackson’s house, which often consist of Chinese takeout boxes and paper plates. Their house, despite exuding excessive wealth, is informal, warm, and all about precious family time. This house is formal, cold, and all about appearances. The money isn’t different. Jackson and Darian have a lot of it. It’s the people that are different.
His father looks at me. “What is it you do, Amanda?”
“I’m an artist.”
Beckett’s eyes light up with pride. “You should see her paintings, Dad. She’s so talented. If you want to come by the house sometime, I have a lot of her work up. I think you’d really like it.”
His father gives a smug look. “Ah, I see. I imagine you can open a lot of doors for her.”
Beckett’s jaw tightens, understanding the implication. “It’s not like that.”
“So you haven’t introduced her to someone like Greg LeMaine?”
That’s who we met with this morning.
“Well, yes, and he loved her work.”
His father gives a self-satisfied smile. “I thought as much.”
Dinner is horribly awkward. I have nothing in common with any of these people. Andie seems equally bored, so she and I make our own good time, chatting away. I learn that she’s really becoming good friends with Dylan Knight. I bet the two of them are adorable together. I encourage Andie to invite Dylan over for a painting party. She’s excited at the prospect.
At some point, Andie asks to use the restroom. Beckett starts to stand, but I grab his arm. “I’ll take her.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” Not only am I happy to take Andie, there’s no way in hell I’m being left alone at the table with these people.
We make our way toward the bathroom, and I encourage her to take her time, in no rush to return. When we’re done, I ask her if she’s still hungry. She says no, so we find some fancy couch to sit on.
I intertwine my fingers with her little ones. “Andie, what’s your favorite fairytale?”
“Hmm. Daddy doesn’t like fairytales, so he never reads them with me.”
She’s right. He reads to her all the time, but never fairytales. And I’ve never seen any princess items around the house. Jade had a ton of that stuff as a kid.
“Why doesn’t he like them?”
“He says he doesn’t like the princesses in those stories. He said he wants me to be stronger than them. That they’re not role models. I think he once called thembimbos. What’s a bimbo?”
I can’t help but smile. Beckett Windsor, the feminist. Dr. Pearl would love him and his thoughts on fairytales.
“I guess it’s a woman who may be pretty but isn’t very smart.”
“Like Buffy?”
I let out a laugh. “Exactlylike Buffy.” I tickle her stomach and she giggles. “You, madam, are both beautifulandsmart. I can’t wait for you to meet Jade. She’s beautiful and smart too.”
“Can I meet her soon?”
“Maybe. We’ll talk to your dad.”
Our conversation is interrupted by Beckett’s father. “There you are. Andrea, it’s rude to leave the table for more than a few minutes. You should head back.”
