23. Ruby
23
RUBY
I don’t know how Harry convinces his dad to fly into Chicago the following day, but after a whirlwind twenty-four hours I find myself walking into a new restaurant called Charlie Trotter’s, my hand folded into Harry’s, and nerves making my mouth dry.
Harry insisted on buying me a new outfit: a burgundy-colored dress that clings in all the right places with a Bardot neckline exposing my shoulders. I’ve never felt so unlike me, but neither have I ever felt so sexy, which might have something to do with Harry whispering in my ear that I look beautiful. I caught a glimpse of the price tag before Harry paid for the dress—it was more than I earn in a week—and wanted to cry at the extravagance. But he has style, I’ll give him that.
He is looking debonair—as my dad would say—in a silver suit with a faint burgundy pinstripe, pink shirt, and burgundy tie. Coordinated. Knotting us together as a couple.
People stare at us as the ma?tre d’ guides us to our table, and I gasp when I realize that my mom and Harry’s dad are already seated.
I blink the restaurant back into focus. But no, they’re still there. For a few brief moments, I have them all to myself, as they sit there staring into their drinks, blissfully unaware that they are being watched, and I can’t help thinking that something has already passed between them before we arrived.
A conspiracy to keep me and Harry apart?
Something that they can agree on after thirteen years of despising each other from a distance. A common ground. Perhaps they’ve even stumbled into a silent agreement to leave the past behind … for their sakes, not ours.
Then, my mom looks up, checks out my outfit, calculating how much it must’ve cost before a tentative smile appears and vanishes in a heartbeat. It was for my eyes only. She never intended Harry to claim it for himself.
Karl’s gaze doesn’t quite reach me, and my stomach lists sideways as if I’m walking on a boat. I sway, my head spinning, and Harry grips my hand tightly.
“Are you alright?” He stops a short distance from the table, giving me a moment. Breathing space. He sensed it too: the battle to come.
“I’m fine.” I force a smile.
It must be the stress of my dad being sick and not knowing how tonight is going to go. I realize that all I’ve eaten today is half a cheese and ham croissant that my mom brought into the hospital for me, and now it’s threatening to come back up.
I need to sit down.
I need to eat.
I need tonight to be over so that we can get on with the rest of our lives.
The ma?tre d’ helps me into my seat and says that he’ll allow us some time to look at the wine list. Karl still hasn’t looked at me, and from my mom’s rosy cheeks, I’m guessing that her almost empty glass isn’t her first drink of the evening.
“Hello, Celia.” Harry offers her a warm smile that isn’t reciprocated. “Thank you for coming.”
“Aren’t you being a little presumptuous? You haven’t even ordered the wine yet.”
“Mom.” I try to keep my voice low and my eyes down, but I don’t miss Karl’s smirk. Now, I’m almost certain that they arranged to meet here early to discuss tactics.
“You’re here, aren’t you?” Harry doesn’t look away. It’s another glimpse of the man who sits in a boardroom with clients, knowing what he wants from the outset and determined to win.
“You gave us no choice.” Karl picks up his glass and downs the dregs, staring at it as if he doesn’t know where it went.
“Wow.” Harry shakes his head. “Are we really doing this? The man who told me we always have a choice when I was growing up?”
“That was when I thought you had the sense to make the correct choices.” Karl signals the waiter to the table and orders another vodka soda for himself.
The waiter glances around the table, and Harry compensates for his father’s rudeness by ordering a bottle of Dom Perignon and a carafe of water.
Harry waits for the waiter to walk away before he says, “Correct choices as in your choices.”
“In this, I know I’m right.” Karl Weiss sits back in his seat like a man who has already had the final word.
I bristle. Who does this man think he is to choose who his son can or cannot marry? My mom hasn’t moved, elbows on the table, stroking the outside of her glass like alcohol is going to make this whole situation go away.
“You obviously have your reasons,” I say.
I have no desire to speak to the man, but I can’t even begin to look at the menu with my stomach roiling like someone cranked up the heat inside me.
“So perhaps, rather than coming at Harry like a bulldozer, it might be better if you explain them, so that he can make a decision armed with all the facts.”
Karl shakes his head, his eyes fixated on the slim vase and single white daisy in the center of the table. He avoids eye contact with everyone, but watching him closely, I’m almost certain that he hasn’t looked at me once. Not tonight, or the first time I met him in Harry’s office.
Eventually, he says, “There’s nothing to tell. Business is business. Your father couldn’t hack it.”
A flush creeps up my mom’s neck and into her cheeks. “Where’s the water when you need it?” she mutters under her breath.
On cue, the waiter returns with the water and four tall glass tumblers. The atmosphere at the table must be tangible, because he keeps his eyes on the tray, his body poised to make a hasty retreat should we start slinging insults at one another in his presence.
Harry pours. He slides the first glass in my mom’s direction. She swallows a huge mouthful without thanking him.
“My dad has given us his blessing,” I say.
Something is niggling away at the back of my mind. He told me to go with Harry before he knew that he was a Weiss, but even after he knew the truth, after his second stroke, he was still adamant that I should marry Harry. That’s what he said: Go marry Harry .
Or was it?
I sip my water. My mom is unnaturally quiet, and that worries me more than if she was her usual vocal self. Why isn’t she defending Dad? Is she scared of this man?
Like all bullies, I get the impression that he’s a coward underneath the bravado.
A sinister smile twists the corners of Karl’s mouth. He raises his hands and claps them slowly, three times, the sound dropping onto the table like dead flies. “Very gracious of him. So, what, you thought you could invite me to dinner and change my mind? Convince me to see things your way? You have a lot to learn, girlie.”
“Dad!” Harry’s eyes have darkened as if a thundercloud has settled above his head, throwing him into shade. “That’s my fiancée you’re talking to. I am going to marry her, with or without your blessing, so you either accept it and we all learn to get along, or you walk away now.”
“I haven’t eaten yet.” Karl picks up the menu and raises it in front of his face. “I’m not traveling all this way without being fed.”
Harry clenches his fist on the table, and I place my hand over it, surprised to find him trembling. This was a mistake. I don’t even know why they came when neither of them has anything constructive to say.
But seeing the disappointment etched on Harry’s face, I give it one last shot. “Please, Mr. Weiss. It would mean the world to both of us if you would leave the past in the past and allow us all to move forward.”
He lowers the menu, his eyes finally grazing mine. Briefly. As though he’s staring directly into the sunshine and is afraid of being blinded. “What makes you think that I haven’t already left the past in the past?”
“I-I don’t know. Why are you so opposed to us getting married then?”
“The answer is simple. I don’t want anything more to do with your family.”
“But…” This all happened so long ago, and he wasn’t even the loser. “Why do you hate us so much?”
He scoffs, and the mirthless smile is back. “I don’t hate you.”
I’m confused. “Then why…? Why can’t you just be happy for us?”
“It’s okay,” Harry murmurs, entwining his fingers with mine. “He isn’t going to listen to you.”
“On the contrary.” Karl sets the menu down in front of him. “I’m listening to every word.” He turns to me. “So, you want me to be happy? Correct?”
It wasn’t exactly what I said, but I’m not prepared to play word games with him. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“What will make me happy is for you and your family to stay in Chicago where you belong and let me get on with my life.”
Tears well in my eyes, and I blink them back. I won’t cry in front of him either. I don’t understand his hatred, and if he isn’t prepared to talk about it, Harry and I will just have to get married without him. Only, I don’t want to start our lives knowing that I came between him and his dad.
“Okay, Dad.” Harry squeezes my fingers, letting me know that he’s alright. “You’ve had your say. Now, I’m going to have mine. I love Ruby. I know that she’s the one for me, and nothing you can say will ever change that.”
“Are you done?” Karl’s eyebrows slide upwards, the smirk still in place as if he finds the entire conversation amusing.
“No.” Harry’s expression is unreadable. “I came here tonight hoping that you would be willing to discuss what happened before. I thought that we might at least clear the air between you and Celia because we want you both at our wedding without the need for bulletproof vests and plexiglass shields. Or should I say wanted .”
Harry glances at me, and I understand that he doesn’t want to proceed without my agreement. I nod with my eyes. Anxiety is still coursing through my veins, and I don’t like the fact that it’s because of my future father-in-law.
“Don’t come to the wedding.” Harry shrugs. “It’s your choice, and you’re the one who will have to live with the decision. Your absence will not spoil our day because I intend to give Ruby the wedding of her dreams. I’ve already made it my life’s mission to make her the happiest woman on the planet.”
I can’t help smiling. No one has ever made me feel as special as Harry does, and I wouldn’t even care if he suggested that we leave everything behind and make a home on a remote island. My only regret would be leaving my dad behind.
“You’re quiet.” Karl aims this at my mom. “Think you can sit there and let me take the blame for all this, do you?”
“No one is blaming anyone, Dad.” Harry shakes his head, incredulous.
“Not how it sounds to me, son.” Eyes still locked on my mom Karl continues, “You must have something to add, some input to the preposterous notion of these two living happily ever after.”
“Ruby knows how I feel.” I sense my mom is clamming up like an oyster.
“Ha!” Karl inhales deeply and returns his attention to the menu. “Just as I thought. You had no balls then, and you still haven’t grown any.”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough.” Harry stands abruptly, and the waiter rushes over to save the chair from toppling backwards. Harry gives him a curt nod of gratitude, and the man slinks away again. “We’re leaving. Enjoy your meal. I’ll settle the bill before I go.”
I stand too. “Mom?” I don’t want to leave her here with this insufferable man, but she doesn’t move.
“Go, Ruby.” Her voice is laced with defeat, and I wonder if that’s why she hasn’t put up a fight. She knew it was game over when she was doing her makeup and getting ready to meet us here. “You got what you wanted. You always do in the end.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I always thought people were supposed to learn from their mistakes, but our parents have clearly learned nothing over the years.
Harry’s hand finds mine, his warmth spreading through me, although it does nothing to settle my nerves. I can’t wait to get out of here, breathe in the cool night air, and think about something else other than family.
“In case you’re interested,” Harry says, “we’ve set the date. We’re getting married in six weeks’ time.” He turns to lead me away as the waiter arrives with the bottle of Dom Perignon. “They’ll only be needing two glasses.”
“Sir?” The waiter’s eyes dart back and forth between us and the table. “Is everything okay, sir?”
“Everything is fine.” Harry salutes him as we find the ma?tre d’ on our way out and settle the bill. “I think that went rather well.” Harry injects some humor into his tone as he helps me into my coat, and we step outside.
We grab hotdogs from a stand and eat them walking through the city, the aroma of fried onions and mustard following us around.
“Let’s not talk about it.” I need time to process the things that were said. The hotdog has satiated my hunger a little, but I still can’t shake the uneasiness that has lodged itself inside my chest all day.
Harry must sense it too. Back in our suite, he leads me by the hand into the bedroom and undresses me tenderly, sliding the dress over my shoulders and raising one foot at a time to help me out of it. When I’m naked, he whispers, “Lay down, Ruby,” and I do. I don’t have the energy to give anything back.
Starting with my eyelids, Harry kisses me all over, his tongue trailing to my earlobes, my neck, my nipples. My body responds instinctively, my skin coming alive to his touch. I close my eyes and savor every moment.
Harry licks his way down to my pussy, the tip of his tongue finding its way inside me and then quickly moving on, down the inside of my thighs, behind my knees, and onward to my toes. He massages my instep and sucks on my toes, one at a time, separating them, licking in between them, sending shivers down my spine. How can it possibly feel this good?
Without warning, when my brain is still consumed by the strange sensation of having my toes sucked, Harry spreads my legs and finds me again with his tongue. He inserts a finger, probing me while his tongue hits the spot and hesitates, listening for the sound of my shallow panting. He inserts a second finger and licks harder.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Ruby Jackson. I am never going to stop telling you this for as long as I live.”
I grab the pillow under my head with both hands and cling onto it tightly. Just as I’m about to explode, Harry stops. He kisses the inside of my thighs tenderly, his fingers still resting inside me.
“Want more?” His voice is husky.
“Yes,” I pant.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yes!” I’m clinging onto my orgasm, waiting for him to finish what he started, and my voice is shrill.
His tongue is back. Harry doesn’t stop until he has tasted every drop of my wetness, then he comes back to me, gently removing the pillow that I covered my face with to stop myself from screaming.
He rolls me onto my side, his hand cupping my breast, and enters me from behind, pushing my left knee up towards my chest and spreading my butt cheeks. He moves slowly, his hips finding their rhythm while he kisses my neck, my ears, and my throat, his fingers stroking my clit and making my body convulse.
“I’m going to come, Ruby,” he whispers into my ear. “Do you want me to?”
“Yes.” I twist my face around and kiss him hard, curling his hair around my fingers and holding on tightly as he thrusts inside me, his legs vibrating until finally, we both slump onto the pillows.