Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Roxy
Why am I so nervous? I take a deep, steadying breath for the third time in a minute.
Gray’s hand leaves his stick shift and comes to rest over mine. “Relax. You are a beautiful and successful businesswoman. They will love you.”
I give him side-eye. Why is he so calm? It’s been nearly three weeks since we started dating for real. Although we’ve only been together for a month and a half, if we count our fake-dating time, I feel like we’ve been together forever. For a man who left such a bad first impression, Gray has proven he’s actually a charming, sexy-as-fuck, intelligent, and thoughtful boyfriend. And the sex…is…well, he wasn’t joking about reading all my favorite steamy romance novels and he most definitely took notes.
He's been extra attentive this week because my official grand opening is only a little over a week away, although I’ve been contemplating pushing it back. I’ve been on edge and he offered to cancel our attendance at his father’s birthday party, but I assured him I’d be fine. However, now that we’re almost at his parents’ home, I’m having serious second thoughts.
My leg bounces as I nervously look at the enormous mansions on this tree-lined street. Gray’s hand grips my thigh.
“I can turn around,” he assures me. I glance over at him and shake my head. “I don’t like it when my wifey is nervous.”
His use of the ridiculous nickname makes my lips twitch into a smile. He grins back at me as he pulls up to a house…strike that, an enormous French-manor-house/castle-looking building. When Gray said his father owned an investment firm, I figured they would have a nice home, but this…isn’t a home…it’s an estate.
My eyes widen further as he pulls into a circular drive with a working fountain in the middle of it. Small solar lights line the driveway. The sun is just getting low in the sky, but it’s bright enough to see the rainbow of perfectly manicured shrubs, flowers, and lawn.
“Where’s the gatehouse?” I mutter, mostly to myself.
He chuckles. “I should warn you. The staff miss me. Particularly Leopold, our head of staff,” he states as if every family has a freaking person running their household.
He parks the car and walks around it, opening my door and offering me his hand. I accept it and he pulls me to my feet and against his warm, toned body. He plants a gentle kiss on my lips. “You are better than anyone you will meet in this house tonight. Don’t forget that.”
I start to nod, but the enormous wooden front doors open. If I thought Pierce and Haven’s lake house was extra, it pales in comparison to what awaits me inside this home.
“Come on,” Gray urges me, his voice laced with amusement as he presses his palm to my lower back and ushers me toward an older gentleman at the door. I know it’s not his father because even though Gray doesn’t have a single photo of them in his home, Jocelyn and I internet stalked him. I’ve even seen his ex.
“Leopold, this is my girlfriend, Roxy,” Gray introduces as he walks up to Leopold and hugs him.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Leopold says extending a hand to me. I’m half-expecting a British accent and am mildly disappointed when he has a strong New England accent.
We shake and I suddenly feel timid. “Nice to meet you too,” I manage as my hand drops away and I take in my opulent surroundings. Crystal chandeliers, silk-patterned wallpaper, priceless pieces of art, and stone that probably cost more than my entire apartment building surround us.
“This way,” Leopold says as he walks down a long corridor.
We follow and Gray leans toward me. “The less you say, the better,” he suggests.
I frown. Is he embarrassed by me? What about the pep talk he just gave me?
Before I can ask, we’re at double doors that are at least seven feet high. Leopold opens one and motions for us to enter. With a hand pressed to my lower back, Gray leads me inside a formal dining room. A table easily capable of seating twenty people fills the center of the space. It sits upon a woven rug that I assume is antique and foreign. The chairs are dark wood and intricately carved. And a tablecloth made of silk covers the table. It perfectly matches the paint on the walls. A large floral arrangement sits in the center of the table.
There are several people already seated. A man at the head of the table with the same blue eyes as Gray who, based on photos I saw online, is his father. His mother sits diagonally from him. Her hair looks perfect as if she just came from a salon. His sister sits next to her.
But it’s the woman sitting across from his mother that has my breath catching. She looks like a model. She rises from her chair, focusing her gaze on Gray as she seemingly ignores my presence. She’s tall, even taller than me, and graceful, and makes me look like the ugly duckling.
Lydia.
Gray’s ex-girlfriend is at this family dinner. What. The. Fuck?
I glance over at Gray. He looks…confused.
The room is silent for way too many seconds. It’s Lydia who breaks the trance.
“Gray! It’s so good to see you,” she says warmly in a voice that sounds like she’s a villain in a cartoon film. She sounds sincere in the fakest way possible.
She walks over and places her hand on his shoulder as she leans in and kisses his cheek.
“What are you doing here, Lydia?” Gray says, his voice low and menacing. He looks ready to punch a wall. I can see his jaw pulsing as he speaks. His hand is still on the small of my back and I feel it vibrate with anger. Oh shit. This family dinner thing is going to end in epic fireworks and not the good kind, more like the kind that happens when a fireworks factory catches fire, abrupt and too intense.
“Oh, uh, your parents insisted I join. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to congratulate you on your latest film venture,” she says with a smile that is as fake as her voice. She might look gorgeous, but it’s clear after ten seconds of hearing her speak that the beauty is only skin deep.
“Thank you,” he mutters, his voice staying evenly toned, his only tell being his clenching jaw. Although, I swear there’s a vein beginning to emerge in his forehead.
I watch them look at each other and I wonder what unspoken words are passing between them. Does he miss her? I feel my nostrils flare as jealousy begins to course through my veins. She left him. He should be way more livid. He should be screaming and putting on a spectacle as he tells his family we are leaving, but no, he’s silent.
“Gray, darling, please be seated with your friend and introduce us,” his mother says, giving me a fake smile that rivals Lydia’s. Lovely, a table of fake people. The irony that Gray and I started out as a fake couple is not lost on me as I walk up to a chair and take a seat, deciding to play the super sweet and classy girlfriend.
“It’s so nice to meet you all. I’m Roxy Benedict, Gray’s girlfriend,” I state as I place a napkin on my lap. I can feel Gray walking behind me and taking a seat as Lydia sits on his other side.
I almost feel as if I’m watching a movie instead of my life. While I’m having some weird out-of-body experience, Gray’s father begins to speak.
“I didn’t realize you were bringing a plus-one,” he says dryly. “So I took the liberty of inviting Lydia. You two should talk after dinner.”
Wonderful. This is just great. I half expect him to add one of those villain hahaha s after his words, but he just motions to a woman at the door to bring food. The woman and two others set silver plates with little domes on them on the table, while a man sets salad plates in front of each of us. The staff quickly add a place setting for me as well.
Gray’s sister has been sitting silent, but her eyes stay trained on me. “So, Roxy, I hear you own a bookstore,” she says quietly before taking a bite of her salad, adding, “I’m Adriana, Gray’s sister, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.” She levels her stare at her father before returning to mine with a smile, a real one. OK, so one of his family members seems to be normal. Promising.
“Uh, yes. I just opened it,” I state.
“Oh, that’s so sweet. A small business. Just like the movies,” Lydia says with a smirk that I want to slap right off her smug face.
“It’s quite impressive. You should all visit it,” Gray says before taking a bite of salad.
“So, son, tell us about this deal with Pierce. How much will you be making?” his father asks, seemingly ignoring me as if I’m the hired help. How in the hell did Gray spawn from these people?
My family is kind and supportive. And as I sit there and listen to Gray talk about his film deal, I realize for the first time how lucky I am. His family questions everything he says. They are awful. Yes, my siblings are all super accomplished and smart, and yes, I have a big old chip on my shoulder, but they have never once judged me. Even when I had to move back home after my breakup, penniless and with no real career, no one said a word about it. They just opened their arms to me like they always do. As the dinner continues, his family ignores me aside from occasional smiles from his sister, I begin to realize how wrong I’ve been about my own family. How have I been so blind? And Gray is right, my business is impressive. I’ve accomplished that with very little help from anyone else, and after hitting an all-time low. I’m a phoenix and I’ve risen from my ashes. Shit. That is impressive.
“Dessert will be served on the veranda,” the woman in a kitchen uniform says from the door.
I realize our meal is over. A meal including filet mignon and lobster tails. I wanted so badly to refer to it as surf and turf, but I had a distinct feeling that wouldn’t help the situation.
Everyone rises from their chairs.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I whisper to Gray as I follow him out into the hallway. He motions to a door.
“I’ll just be outside,” he says as he points to a room to our right where giant sliding walls open onto a patio that overlooks a vista view of the lake. I hadn’t realized how close we were to it.
I nod and excuse myself as I go into the bathroom. It’s enormous, like the size of my apartment. There is a basket filled with fresh hand towels and a basket to drop them in when finished. It’s like the fancy bathrooms at the country club where my dad plays golf. That’s probably the only time I’ve seen something like that.
With an eye roll, I walk out and head toward the back deck. I see Gray’s parents talking with their daughter, but I don’t see Gray and I don’t see Lydia. A shiver runs over me.
“Gray and Lydia just took a walk to see my new rose garden,” his mother says as she notices me standing and looking around. She motions toward the path leading to a hedged area off to the side of the house.
“Oh,” I state because I don’t know what else to say. I step down onto the path and follow it, hearing some whispered words as I approach.
When I reach a clearing, I peer inside it and my heart stops. Gray is kissing Lydia.
I gasp and they pull apart. Gray turns to me, his face paling. “Roxy, it’s not what you think.”
Memories of Richard saying those exact words to me fill my mind and I feel tears threaten. I spin on my heels and head straight up the path and to the veranda.
“Thank you for a lovely evening. I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to duck out early,” I say to them.
“Oh dear,” his mother says but she doesn’t actually seem concerned.
“I’ll just see myself out. I can call a car. I don’t want to pull Grayson away from all of you early,” I say as I turn to the sliding wall that’s still open. I walk through it and pull up an app to summon a car.
“Ms. Benedict?” Leopold’s voice comes from the hallway.
“Not feeling well, I’m calling a car,” I say to him as I hurry to the front door.
“I’ll open the gate,” he says, referring to the black gate at the bottom of their driveway. He opens the door for me and I practically run through it.
“Roxy!” I hear Gray’s voice and I have to blink back tears.
Leopold holds the door for Gray and Gray runs out into the driveway.
“Wait! Please!” Gray yells as he runs to catch up with me.
I take a deep breath and turn to him. “Go back inside, Grayson. I’m going home,” I hiss from behind clenched teeth as I glance at my rideshare app to confirm the car is approaching.
“Roxy, it’s not what you think. Lydia kissed me. I didn’t kiss her. She thought she could reconnect with me tonight. But that’s not possible. Because I’m already with you, I’m falling for you,” he says, his voice pleading.
“No, stop. We are not doing this. I can’t do this again,” I whisper as I fight the tears that threaten me once more.
The car pulls up and I open the door. “We’re done,” I say quietly as I get inside.
“Roxy!” he calls out. I see him reach for his phone as the car pulls away and I block his number. I can’t do this. Not again. Not now. Not ever.