26. In The Club
Chapter 26
In The Club
Dev
I could see Beau’s shoulders get more and more tense the closer we got to his family home, and I can’t say I blame him. The place is cold and imposing. It looks more like a fancy old house you’d visit on a museum tour than a place real people actually live in. Warmth is not a feeling I associate with a family home. Although a couple of my foster places had a comfortable vibe. Maybe I’ve watched too many sitcoms. I’m expecting some ideal family situation. And maybe it’s just a fantasy. Something that only exists on TV screens. It’s what I’ve always yearned for. A permanent home. The hockey house is the closest I’ve gotten.
At least the Whitakers let us drive to the club together, so I don’t have to deal with that awkward meeting yet. It was weird. Neither of their parents ventured out to greet us as we walked in. Some glorious homecoming. Probably better in a public setting.
If it’s possible, I’ve been even more uncomfortable than Beau since we started our journey. Between worrying about the proximity with Cece, and the feeling of being dropped in a world I don’t belong in like a time traveler from the 1800s showing up in the 2000s. My suit feels snugger than usual, and I keep reaching up to adjust the collar trying to choke me out.
The feeling only intensifies as we turn up the driveway. Massive trees crowd the massive black gate at the turnoff. It’s as if they’re on a mission to keep out the tired and weary masses. This is not the place for you, it practically screams.
The gates swing open to admit us after Beau greets the guy at the gate. I’d call him a guard, but if he is, it’s more of an undercover sort of thing. He’s got on a crimson vest over a crisp white shirt, and his hair is slicked back in a tidy sweep.
He looks down his nose at us but gives Beau a huge smile.
“Mr. Whitaker, so nice to have you back.”
“Thanks. Good to see you, Jerome.”
“And Miss Cecelia. You look lovely.”
I glance back at her to see her nod with a tentative smile. I don’t like the condescending way he uses her first name or the judgment that’s heavy in his tone.
He glances at me. “You’ve got a guest? Name please.”
“Dev,” I reply, but his stare keeps burning into me as a small smirk twitches at the corners of his mouth.
“This is Devlin Connell. My mother should have added him to the reservation. ”
“Hmm.” The man looks even more weaselly, frowning at the tablet in his hand. “I don’t see him here.”
Fuck. I know I don’t belong here, but now my skin is getting all hot, and I reach up to tug at my tie. I didn’t even want to come here, but knowing how unwelcome I am is still an awful feeling.
Beau glances at his watch, then straightens his back and zeros in the employee. There are now a couple of cars behind us waiting to enter the hallowed ground. “Add him to the list. My father is waiting for us, and I don’t have all day. He’ll be pissed if I tell him why we’re late.”
“Right. Of course, Mr. Whitaker. How do you spell it?”
Beau spells out my name, and the gate finally swings open slowly, as if it’s reluctant to let me in too.
“Jerome thinks he’s the shit. Sorry about that ass.” Cece reaches out to pat my arm, pulling it back quickly when she realizes what she did.
Beau doesn’t seem to notice. “I hate throwing the family name around, but he was just being difficult. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
The trees lining the way are mostly bare, but the ground underneath them is immaculate. As if they send someone out every day to sweep and rake away the fallen ones. I’m sure they do.
A large stone building comes into view. It resembles a castle without the turrets, and it almost looks like it grew up out of the hill it sits on. It watches our approach, casting a shadow over the parking lot filled with shiny cars that cost more than my entire college education.
Beau eschews the valet parking, but he swings into the curve by the front door to let Cece out.
“See you in a minute.”
“You bet I’ll be waiting for you. No need to breach the walls on my own.”
She’s changed into a dress for the evening. Much more subdued and fancier than her usual attire. But it looks good on her. I’m pretty sure she could give the paper bag princess a run for her money if she wanted to. The navy dress has a flowy chiffon skirt that covers her knees, and a tight satiny top with an embroidered pattern of vines stitched on it. I’d love to run my hand over the little detail before I ripped it off her. Little fluttery sleeves cover her shoulders, but she threw on a long red wool coat to keep the cold air off her bare skin. She looks like she’s accustomed to wearing the three-inch heels, but also like she’d toss them in a bush to dance barefoot on the grass if she could. I don’t really like how this place seems to drain her exuberance away. I love that about her.
She’s still standing outside the massive front door when we’ve made our way across the parking lot. Her arms are wrapped around herself in a hug to stave off the cold.
I have to resist the urge to pull her into my arms for warmth.
“You should have gone in, Cece.” Beau scolds his sister.
“I would have, but Trent showed up, and I couldn’t do it.”
“Who’s Trent?” I ask, the skin at the back of my neck prickling to attention .
“Cece’s on-again, off-again boyfriend.” Beau informs me. “He’s a dick. I have no idea why you keep going back to that ass.”
“Thanks for the plentiful helping of condescension, brother. It’s off. Forever. Don’t worry. I’m never touching that guy again. Not even if we were the last two people on the planet. Screw repopulating Earth. If that’s how I had to do it. Better the human race dies out.”
“Did he do something to you?” My fingers are twitching into fists at my sides. If he treated my girl badly. If he did anything to her, I will be happy to smash his face in. I’m sure Beau would help me. Just like that asshole mouthing off at our game.
“He did lots of things to me, but as my brother so kindly pointed out, I went back to him, but it was always more of a casual thing on both our parts. Don’t get all worked up. Are you really cheating if neither of you has much emotional investment in the relationship?”
I still don’t love hearing about her getting treated like that, but at least she wasn’t super into the guy. Now I feel worse about what I’m doing to her. Forcing her to keep our relationship secret is keeping her at a distance that I’m not comfortable with, because I really care about her.
A guy about our age dressed in the same outfit as the keeper of the gate holds the door open as we pass through, and it’s like stepping into another world. The dark wooden floors have an aged shine to them. The ceiling in the foyer stretches all the way to the second floor. Beau leads us to the left, where we hand our coats off to another smiling staff member .
I reach for my backpack, twitching a little when I remember I left it in the trunk of Beau’s car. He convinced me it wouldn’t be the best idea to bring it along, and even though it caused me physical pain to leave it behind, Cece gave my hand a secret squeeze and I knew I could handle it. As long as she’s here next to me.
Vases filled with flowers in every color of fall grace every table we pass. An expensive-looking garland drapes the railing of the massive staircase leading to the second floor. We bypass that, following the small stream of expensive looking people talking and laughing as they walk through the foyer into the next room.
A gorgeous blonde woman stands behind a wooden podium, greeting Beau and Cece with a smile. “Welcome, Mr. and Miss Whitaker.” At least she shows Cece the respect she deserves, but her blue eyes are locked on Beau’s with a hungry look in them.
“I’ll take you to your table. I see you brought a guest with you this evening.” She turns to me, and I can see the dismissal in her eyes as they give me a cursory sweep, taking in the too short sleeves of my only suit.
Another subtle reminder that I don’t belong in this world. Beau, on the other hand, he was born for this. He strides across the room with an effortless grace, nodding his head, and saying hello as he passes other tables.
We’re led to a table by a window overlooking the green. It’s not so green at the moment, but it still looks beautiful even during the barren time of year .
The gentleman that stands up when we stop is an older version of his son.
Except the hair. It’s a deep brown shade but shot through with distinguished silver streaks at the temples.
Their mother has a big smile on her face, but it’s strained around the edges and doesn’t reach her eyes. Not like Cece’s wide-open smile. I’ve never understood what people meant when they said someone’s teeth were blindingly white. Until now. They’re as perfect as the smooth skin stretched over her face. She’s got to be at least ten years younger than their father, but it’s hard to tell under the coat of makeup and likely cosmetic surgery. Nothing that makes her look weird, but there’s a glossy smoothness to her that she didn’t come by naturally.
“Beau, Cecelia. Good to see you.” He pulls out Cece’s chair for her but doesn’t offer any affection to either of his children. This is probably the first time he’s seen them in a couple of months, and nothing. Not even a handshake.
He offers one to me. Stretching his hand out. “You must be Devlin. Pleasure to meet you. I hear you’ve been an excellent partner for Beau on the ice.” His voice is as smooth and polished as the rest of him.
“Yes, sir. Beau is an excellent captain. Nice to meet you.”
“You can call me John.” He squeezes my hand in a tight hold, giving it a brief but firm shake, and holding on a little too long until I let go first.
Meeting new people always stirs up my anxiety. I used to go into new families, confused and scared, but hopeful. But after one too many experiences being rejected or disappointed, I started to dread it. This is no different. They might not be my family, but if there’s any hope of making this thing with Cece last, I’m going to have to get to know them. Try to fit in, which seems like an insurmountable obstacle now that I’m here. In their territory.
“Hello. Nice to meet you. I’m Joanne.” She holds out a limp hand, her long pink nails digging into my palm when I go in for a shake.
“My pleasure.” I don’t even know where that came from. I don’t think I’ve said anything like that in my entire life.
“Beau, Cecelia.” They get the barest of acknowledgment.
“Hi, Dad, Joanne,” Cece says, polite and subdued. Not a trace of her usual exuberance.
I’m about to sit next to Cece when John waves to the chair next to him, and I carefully ease myself down, conscious of every move I make.
He doesn’t waste any time. “So, where are you from, son?”
“Detroit.”
“Not so far away, then. And what do your parents do?”
A server stops by to take drink orders, saving me from answering the awkward question. “I’ll have a cola.”
Beau orders a beer, and Cece accepts a pour from the bottle of red wine sitting in the middle of the table.
“You can have a proper drink. It’s all on me tonight. Don’t worry about the cost.”
I shake my head. “No, thanks. ”
“Dev doesn’t drink, Dad. Lay off.” Beau shoots a glare at his father that has me recoiling even though it’s not directed at me. Why did I agree to this?
“I see. Are planning on going pro?” He turns back to me.
“Yes. I’ve been drafted by Vancouver.”
“Excellent. Good for you. Playing professionally isn’t the right choice for everyone.” Now he’s directing a pointed look across me at his son. “But for someone like you, I’m sure it’s a tremendous boost for you and your family.”
What does that even mean? I kind of expected Beau’s dad to be a bit of a dick, but I didn’t really grasp the breadth of it.
“Dad, what are you even talking about?” Surprisingly, it’s Cece who jumps into the conversation. I do not want to cause any division in their family. No matter how dysfunctional they clearly are.
“I just mean, his family would benefit from a professional hockey salary.”
“Have you ever thought about the fact that he might not have any?”
All chatter and movement at the table comes to an awkward halt.
“Even more so then.”
No apology, no backtracking. Just leaves it at that.
“Why don’t I show you the buffet, Dev?”
She stands up, gesturing for me to come with her.
“Remember, plate only half full, Cecelia.” Her mother calls after her retreating back. The little dig hurts me more than anything Mr. Whitaker said to me .
“I’m sorry about them,” she whispers as we make our way around the tables.
The next room over is some kind of massive hall. Those polished wood floors fill the entire space, and buffet tables are lined up along the walls. This isn’t some five-dollar buffet, though. There is every kind of meat and seafood imaginable. A table full of salads. Chefs in white hats carving slices off roasts and serving up hot items out of those fancy silver serving dishes. One wall is all desserts. There is so much I can’t even take it all in.
“Holy shit.”
Cece giggles next to me, and it’s the first time she’s sounded like herself since she came into the house wearing that dress. Like she slipped into another personality as soon as she put it on. I’m glad it’s just a mask and the real her is still in there.
“At least the food is good. At Christmas they serve the dinner in another room, and Santa comes out here to deliver presents to all the younger kids. Then, after dinner, we’d all come out here to play with our toys. Run rampant around the hall. Take off our shoes and skid around the floors. The adults were too hammered to care. It’s the only time I’ve ever liked this place.”
It’s hard to stop myself from overflowing my plate, but I can come back for seconds. The urge to stock up on food when it’s available never really goes away.
Cece barely puts anything on her plate and doesn’t take one of the rolls that she was eyeing. They smell delicious, so I grab an extra, slipping it onto her plate on the way back to the table.
“Oh, I shouldn’t. ”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. Carbs are evil?”
“Carbs are the energy that keeps our bodies running.” I’ve taught myself a lot about nutrition over my years playing hockey. Trying to achieve peak physical condition, and one thing I know is that the no carb craze is a load of bullshit.
“Can I quote you to my mom?”
“Please don’t.”
“I’m fucking with you.” She says it a little too loud and earns a glare from a silver-haired lady in a powder blue dress. That just makes her giggle even louder.
The rest of dinner passes in much the same way, although John seems to have lost interest in me, and Beau looks even paler and more strained than before.
“I’m sorry about that nightmare. I shouldn’t have made you come with us.”
Beau finally relaxes, apologizing to me as we’re getting into his car.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not. But you did well. I think Dad actually likes you.”
I turn back to give Cece an incredulous look. “I’m pretty sure that’s not even close to the truth.”
“No, really. He would have kept hammering at you all through dinner if he didn’t like you. Or at least respect you.”
If that’s what admiration and respect look like to him, I don’t want to know what he does to his enemies.