27. Rob
27
ROB
R ob smoothed the crisp linen napkin in his lap for the tenth time as he and the others settled into a spacious booth in the upscale restaurant. Across from him, Margo displayed her usual casual confidence, with one hand resting on Negal's forearm and a smile on her face as she listened to Gertrude describe the chaos in the clinic when a bunch of Guardians returned from a mission in need of patching up.
Negal, who was wearing a suit with the ease of someone who had been wearing them for years, looked like a supermodel or an artificial intelligence creation—too handsome to be real and drawing the attention of people sitting at nearby tables.
For a guy who had spent most of his incredibly long life as a trooper in uniform, he certainly filled up that suit to perfection.
Their parents had already met Negal, but it would be the first time they met Gertrude, and Rob was nervous.
She looked beautiful, dressed in a simple yet elegant blue dress that complemented her dark hair and warm smile. She seemed determined to be a calming anchor for tonight, entertaining them with her stories of warriors who turned into petulant kids when they were patients. If only his mind could stop conjuring worst-case scenarios about his mother's reaction to his mate, he could actually start enjoying the evening.
Over the tinkling of piano keys in the background, Rob heard the clink of glassware as a waiter passed by, and his thoughts flickered to the last time he'd introduced a girlfriend to his parents. Lynda had charmed them almost instantly, but she was a con artist who had fooled everyone except for Margo.
His sister had been the only one who had seen through the act and saved him from making the worst mistake of his life.
The broken engagement and canceled wedding seemed like something that had happened a lifetime ago, but it had been only a little over a month, and his mother was worried that he'd fallen for Gertrude on the rebound.
"Relax," Gertrude murmured, sliding her hand over his, her touch sending warmth through him. "Everything will be okay. They'll love me."
She sounded so sure, but Rob knew better than to underestimate his mother's ability to find fault in all the wrong people. "I hope so." He forced a small smile.
His mother had been all for Lynda nearly until the end.
Across from him, Margo straightened, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "They're here," she announced, her eyes fixed on the doorway.
Rob turned to see his parents walking over. As usual, his father had that uncertain, slightly apologetic smile he always sported in new social situations, and the suit he'd chosen to wear hung loose on his thin frame.
Was he losing weight? Was he sick? Perhaps he should ask Bridget for a favor and have her examine his dad.
His mother looked as perfectly coifed as ever, with the same critical gleam in her eye. The contrast between them was as familiar as breathing, and Rob felt his stomach knot even further.
As always, she took in every detail at once, as if searching for imperfections.
"Mom, Dad," Rob said, rising from his seat with Gertrude following suit. "I want you to meet the love of my life, Gertrude."
His mother grimaced as if he had said something dirty, but she shook Gertrude's hand and murmured all the right things.
Gertrude inclined her head without a trace of nervousness in her expression, and Rob admired that—it took a special kind of calm to meet his mother's unwavering scrutiny.
His mother's gaze flicked over the other woman's dress, her hair, and then settled on her kind brown eyes, a tight smile stretching her lips. "Rob tells us you're a nurse?"
"Yes, I am," Gertrude said brightly. "I work in a private clinic that caters to a unique clientele."
The muscle in Rob's mother's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "You mean the Perfect Match secret compound employees?" she asked, lowering herself into the plush seat.
"Yes," Gertrude said cheerfully. "It's a large place."
"That no one's allowed to visit." His mother cast a reproachful glance at Margo. "I don't understand why they have such draconian rules. Your father and I would have gladly signed a nondisclosure agreement that covered all the bases. That's what most normal places do. What are they hiding in there?"
"A lot of proprietary tech," Rob said. "Many would love to steal it, and it is crucial to protect it at all costs. If the Chinese get their hands on the technology, they will build the same machines for one-tenth of the price and offer the service for a fraction of what Perfect Match is charging."
His mother tilted her head. "Would that be so bad? The consumers would love it."
"That's not how it works, dear," his father said. "Think of all the years and the enormous amounts of money that went into the development of this technology. The founders need to recoup their investment. That's what patent laws are about, but some foreign actors don't respect them."
Rob didn't like having to lie to his parents, but protecting the location of the village and the identity of its immortal population was nonnegotiable. At least the Perfect Match cover wasn't a complete fabrication. The technology existed; it belonged to the clan, and they were very secretive about it.
Margo cleared her throat. "I have a great idea for all of us to get closer. A spiritual retreat at Safe Haven, which is located on the beautiful Oregon Coast. Perfect Match sponsors it, and we can get free passes for all six of us."
Their father's eyebrows rose. "A spiritual retreat? We are not hippies, Margo." He chuckled. "Your grannie would have loved it, though, bless her soul. But we were born in a different generation."
"It's just a relaxing vacation," Margo said. "They have one-week programs and two-week programs. I can book us for the one week. Just walking on the beach there is a treat. Some yoga, some mindfulness, and gourmet meals prepared by a famous chef. We are going to have so much fun together."
"I don't think so," their mother said. "If you offered us a cruise, I would have considered that. But a spiritual retreat is really not my cup of tea."
Negal leaned forward and looked into their mother's eyes. "You are going to love every moment of it. You will find it transformative," he said in a tone that was as smooth as polished marble.
Was he thralling their parents?
As silence stretched over the table and both his parents stared into Negal's eyes, Rob exchanged glances with Margo and nodded.
They both watched as their mother's expression changed from doubtful to suddenly excited. "It sounds wonderful!" she declared, hands clasping in sudden enthusiasm. "When can we go?"
Rob exhaled, the tension in his shoulders lessening. Strictly speaking, the clan frowned on frivolous use of thralling—manipulating human emotions or decisions with supernatural influence—but given the circumstances, Negal had made a good call.
It was a good thing that the god didn't have to strictly abide by the clan's rules. He wasn't one of Annani's descendants, and although he was a guest in the village and his loyalty was expected, he was freer to do as he pleased than most of the other residents.
Margo clapped her hands. "As soon as I can get us in. The retreats always start on a Saturday, so I can probably reserve spots for next week. I don't think the place is as packed in the winter as it is during the summer months."
"Perfect," their mother said, a wide smile still plastered on her face. Her eager tone was a little unsettling. "Your father and I can't wait to spend a whole week with our children and their significant others."
Under the table, Gertrude gave Rob's hand a reassuring squeeze, and he shot her a relieved glance. Phase one of convincing their parents to come to Safe Haven was done. Now they just needed to find a way to break the news to his mother that she could become immortal and the method by which it could be done. That was the more difficult step, and he was happy to leave it all to Margo.
As the waiter approached with menus, his father cleared his throat. "So, Gertrude," he said, tugging at his tie. "Would you mind telling us more about your work? I'm curious how you ended up working for Perfect Match."
As Gertrude launched into a mostly fabricated story, and his mother continued to nod along with a serenity that was clearly thrall-induced, Margo and Negal shared an amused look.
It was a temporary fix, but it would keep dinner civil.