Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? #2
His chuckle started deeply and now I couldn’t get the image of his voice actually starting in his dick out of my head. His hair was slicked back off his face, his facial hair trimmed perfectly and he smelled divinely as usual.
“That won’t do. Maybe I should put up the partition and give you a reminder.” His hand reached for the remote and I squeezed his knee to make him stop.
“Please don’t. If I walk in there too relaxed I won’t be on my A-game and I need it now more than anything.”
I’d almost backed out. Spent the day texting back and forth with my sister telling me that things would be fine and my father reassuring me that my mother would be medicated and on her best behavior.
As if meds were ever strong enough to contain a personality based on hatred and reveling in being vile.
Despite their assurances, I still felt irritation and apprehensive at the idea of seeing her.
I’d worked on the case from home since Ori and Alec had been out following leads and I wasn’t granted permission to tag along because I was a civilian.
I had no desire to be cramped in a car with them anyway so I kept reviewing the life of Natalie Rawlins and the people she’d interacted with tracing back her family tree and that of her associates to glean whatever I could about who might have killed her.
The pressure was being applied from multiple angles for this case to be concluded.
Politically, it was a landmine, with some saying that was the motivation for her murder.
I felt internally pressured because I wanted to be the expert they’d hyped me to be but the actual case was slow going.
Ori’s retirement hinged on this case getting done and I secretly wanted to help him close out this chapter of his life.
I was still unsure of where the motivation came from but it was what I was feeling.
Part of me felt as though every day the case lingered I was failing everyone around me.
Should really probably get a therapist to talk this out with but those secrets were truly impeding me and my healing.
When Ori got home and saw how I was pacing and not focused on getting ready he submitted and asked if he could ease my stress. And being a good mistress, of course I allowed him.
But now it was wearing off the closer we got to the restaurant.
“Since you keep hinting at it, give me the rundown on what I’m walking into?” His hand still lingered close to my leg the warmth of which was finding its way through the pants I’d selected for tonight. It was a small defiance that I knew would irritate my mother.
She might not matter to me but I knew I could easily rile her and make her life as miserable as she tried to make mine.
I eased back into the seat trying to figure out how to explain decades of family drama succinctly enough for him to grasp the intensity but also not bog him down in details. “My father is the most normal one out of us. Which doesn’t say much since he married my mother.”
“And your sister?”
While I loved my twin she’d been given a specific role in our family dynamic and I was unsure if she would ever step out of it.
She felt she needed to protect me from my mother instead of allowing her to ramble and spew her hatred.
“She’s going to spend too much time playing peacemaker in order to appease everyone’s feelings.
This whole thing will devolve into a shit show. ”
“That bothers you.” I looked at him watching the streetlights cast shadows on his face.
“I’m sorry?”
His face was relaxed but the sharpness in his eyes showed he was studying the reaction to each question that he’d asked. “Your sister’s behavior bothers you.”
I shifted against the seat not wanting him to see as much as he was but unable to deny it. I needed to have someone in my corner walking into this battle and he was the only person I could count on to be firmly on my side. “Of course it does.”
“Because you want her to stick up for you.”
“Because I want her to realize I’m not weak.
I allow her to be the mouthpiece, but most of the time I just want to allow my mother to speak.
Her speaking the way she does doesn’t affect me any longer.
I’d rather she grate on their nerves enough that they do something about her instead of continuing to let her act the way she does.
Frankly, it’s why I’ve been distancing myself from familial interactions.
It’s easier for them all but they still want to have the guise of a perfect family so they continue to appease me by putting a band-aid on the situation. ”
“You want them to advocate for you.”
I had to think for a minute to see if that was the proper word for me to use in this situation.
I could advocate for myself and had often, she simply wasn’t that high a priority for me.
I didn’t want understanding and I didn’t look at the situation as one that could be healed.
Reconciliation was their goal, where mine was distance.
Those two aims weren’t congruent; hence the reason I was constantly at odds with my family.
“Not advocate. I want them to respect how I’m moving and let me have relationships with them separate from her. But again, they feel as though she will somehow see value in me when she hasn’t for over thirty years.”
“So, what does she value?”
“The veneer of perfection is all that matters to her.” The car slid to a stop in front of the restaurant and he gave me a comforting squeeze before he spoke.
“Then we’ll give her perfection.”
He kissed the back of my hand before he put his hand on the door and opened it. I watched as he straightened his suit jacket before shutting the door and walked around to open mine.
Hand in hand we walked beneath the awning of the restaurant and through the entrance.
The staff led us up a stairway to a private room that had been sectioned off for us to use.
I’d made sure that we were the last ones to arrive because I knew my mother would attempt her grand entrance bullshit and I wasn’t in the mood for it today.
I felt excited as we neared the door happy that I was going to see my sister for the first time in a few months and ready to lay eyes on my father.
We’d been on the phone a lot especially when we had to discuss the contract and what he told me I needed to be included but other than that I’d been increasingly busy and so had he.
Two of my father’s guards opened the door for me and I nodded my appreciation toward them.
They’d been a part of his detail for many years and I knew they’d gone through some additional verification to even be near Ori and his grandfather who had also been invited tonight.
I knew the two other men near them had to be there for Mr. Nakoa and I smiled at them as well before we entered the room.
Ori’s grip didn’t relax as we entered and I wondered what he saw that made him determine he still needed to be my protector.
There was a fireplace on one end and the long dining table was set immaculately.
Full arrangements of crystal and formal table settings were interspersed with low pastel florals to ensure that conversation could still be held.
My mind raced wondering who had set this up.
It was lavish but not in a gauche way. I was impressed by who could convey this type of subtle luxury because they’d done a beautiful job.
Before we walked too deeply inside, Ori stopped me by releasing my hand and running them up the backs of my shoulders.
I turned to look at him and our eyes met and held briefly before he ran his hands down the front of my shoulders and dragged the floor-length silk wrap I’d donned for the evening off of them.
I gave him a knowing smile and his only response was a slight tilt of his head and a raising of his brow. He handed my wrap off to the room attendant before unbuttoning his suit jacket and reclaiming my hand.
“She is an absolute vision, Ori.” A man who could only be his grandfather was up and out of his seat at the head of the table walking toward us.
Instead of waiting on an invitation, he gave me a warm embrace that I returned despite my shock.
He hadn’t been able to attend Xerxes’ wedding needing to handle business dealings in another part of the country.
The familial resemblance was unmistakable. His height alone clued me in to their being related and his build was broad and proud like his grandson’s. His skin was slightly darker than Ori’s, with a deeper reddish undertone that had me glancing at my husband to be curiously.
“You have to ask people if they want hugs, Pappy.”
His grandfather leaned back with a frown as he looked at Ori.
I could see where some of his features had come from.
He’d confirmed that his grandfather was biracial and that he had both Samoan and Fijian blood.
His grandfather’s beard was slightly coarse and thick and he had deep waves in his hair.
Ori’s hair always looked like 3B bundles but his grandfather had a body wave pattern but not as silky.
They both towered over me but his grandfather was several inches shorter and broader.
“Not family. And this is now my granddaughter.”
“When the wedding comes.” It was crazy to be claimed so fully by these two but I guess Ori was right when he said that his family took family seriously.
He grinned down at me like he expected nothing less than for me to be combative. I momentarily resented being so predictable.
“No, now. It was set in stone when the agreement was made. Even if they’re broken, we will remain family.” He was staring me in the eye before kissing both of my cheeks.