Chapter 27 #2
Obligatory thanks fill the room, from everyone but him. I watch as he swaps his phone for a piece of bread, handing it off to his wife so she can butter it for him, as if the task is beneath him.
Sarina’s mom tells everyone to help themselves, uncovering the platters in the middle of the table.
Harper and Chloe each start to fill their plates.
Mr. Tesoro hands his plate to his wife and huffs a “Fill it how I like” to her, sounding as if having to instruct her to do something he clearly thinks he’s above doing is a burden.
Chipper and attentive, she takes on the task, and it’s taking every fiber of my being not to tell him to make his own fucking plate.
Sarina taps my leg, “Do you want me to make a plate for you?”
Much to my surprise and none to my delight, that grants us his attention.
I pay him no mind and respond to Sarina, the same way I would whether we were here or alone. “Thank you, carino, I appreciate it, but you don’t need to wait on me.”
“Carino?” Sarina’s dad repeats, condescendingly, through an awkward laugh.
I faintly hear Harper say “Oh fuck” in the backdrop as he continues.
“Well, you see, I’m…” is all I can get out before I’m interrupted.
“Tomás Ramos. Yes, I’m familiar. I remember you from our meeting.”
I bite my tongue.
“That’s correct.” It takes everything in my power not to correct him by reminding him how he blew me off for said meeting, passing me off to his business partner.
I know that doing so would only add fuel to the fire, and it’s not going to do me any favors if I want to get my proposal on the job site in.
He waves his finger in the air, clicking his tongue. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?” Sarina asks in a stronger tone, one that I’m used to hearing from her, and one that contradicts the way her lip is quivering from what I can see in my periphery.
“That he wasn’t your date, he’s your co-worker. Mr. Ramos is Junior Partner at Turner & Vize. Isn’t that the law firm you’re a secretary at now?”
“Paralegal,” Sarina corrects him.
“Same difference.”
Now it’s my turn to chime in. “Actually, the two positions are different. Both are valuable and necessary for our company to run as smoothly as possible. Your daughter’s skill set as a paralegal, however, can put my law degree to shame. She’s so knowledgeable.”
He coughs, chewing on his food as if he’s shocked. “Well, given how my daughter’s LSAT scores said otherwise, that’s surprising to hear. But that’s my Sarina, always full of so many surprises.”
I had no idea that Sarina took the LSAT’s or wanted to be an attorney, but I don’t let him know that.
“And call me old fashioned, but I didn’t realize co-workers call each other sweetheart.”
“Well, we’re friends too,” Sarina adds.
He hums, smug as ever, alternating his gaze between Sarina and me, as his loaded fork raises to his mouth, holding it there. “Is that right? Co-workers and friends?”
Neither of us answer, only emboldening him to continue. “So, Tomás, do you call all your co-workers sweetheart, or just the ones you want to fuck?”
My stomach drops. For a second I wonder if I’m imagining what just happened, because there’s no grand reaction from anyone.
Sarina’s mom sips on her wine, twisting open a pill bottle to what appears to be some form of muscle relaxer.
Chloe and Harper continue eating, both focusing intently on their plates, not bothering to make eye contact with anyone.
Sarina is quiet as a church mouse, while Mr. Tesoro sits, emotionless, chewing away at his food.
I don’t know how to react. Words aren’t calibrating in my head. My appetite has taken a nosedive. I simply sit in the awkwardness, drinking from my water glass, emptying it, despite not feeling an ounce of thirst.
Finally, Sarina speaks. “Tomás is a gentleman.”
“Okay, and?”
Sarina’s chest hitches, and the boldness that was just present in her tone vanishes. “He’s not how you’re making him seem.”
He lifts his hands in sarcastic defeat. “Well forgive me then. I’ve been around long enough to see when someone has intentions, that’s all. Now eat before your food gets cold.”
It takes everything in my power not to get us the fuck out of here. Seeing her like this, a grown woman, being disrespected and barked at by her own father, has my blood boiling.
I hate that she listened to him and finished her plate. I hate that we all do as he said, even if my appetite has dissipated.
Dinner resumes in complete silence, and it’s not until everyone pitches in to clear the dinner plates —everyone, that is, with the exception of Sarina’s dad— and we move on to dessert, that conversation happens again.
“So, Tomás, I’ve heard through the grapevine your firm is interested in trying to pitch me again?”
“Yes, that’s correct,” I settle for.
“And I assume you would like to use this golden opportunity my daughter has gifted you to discuss that with me? Ralph Vize hasn’t exactly been shy about letting me know you’d be here to talk.”
That bastard, he never told me that he spoke to Michael Tesoro about this directly.
“I have to hand it to you, Sarina, when you said you had a date, I was really surprised. But now this.” He points between us, as if he’s about to arrive at the punch line of a bad joke. “This all makes sense now.”
Sarina remains quiet, and I’ve never missed the sound of her voice as much as I do right now.
It’s clear she isn’t going to say something, so I do.
“I’m here as Sarina’s plus-one for Harper and Chloe’s wedding. If you would like to discuss business after that, I would be more than glad to.”
“Why not now? You have my full and undivided attention.”
Sarina’s hand finds my thigh again, and this time it feels cold as ice, stationed in place.
“Despite what Ralph Vize may have told you, I came here as a favor to Sarina first. Business can wait.”
“Very well. What about the day after the wedding? Let’s say we discuss whatever it is you have to say over cigars and scotch?”
“Sounds good,” I agree.
“Good, because I’m very interested to see if your firm has the same capabilities James’ does.”
A gasp sounds from Harper, with Chloe rubbing her shoulder quieting her, and Sarina slamming her empty coffee mug on the table, though she says nothing. She simply rises from her chair, exchanging a look with her sister, while tugging at my arm for me to stand up.
“You know, for someone who supposedly doesn’t care anymore about him, just hearing James’ name surely evokes quite the reaction out of you,” he says with twisted glee, heightening my curiosity.
“Thank you, Mom, for dinner and dessert. Everything was delicious. Harper, Chloe, I’ll see you both tomorrow. Tomás and I have to get going.”
A dry chuckle echoes in the dining room. “What about me?” her dad asks.
“I’ll see you tomorrow too,” she mumbles, now curling her hand around my arm and using all her force to get me to stand up.
I awkwardly say goodbye to everyone and follow Sarina to the door.
“Drive safe!” her dad calls out, but neither of us say anything back.
Sarina slams the door behind us, and reaches for the pocket I stashed the car keys in.
“I’m driving us back to Hemp Grove. You mind?”
“Go right ahead,” I say, opening the driver’s side door for her.
I sit on the passenger side, as she plugs in her phone. Seconds later a metal techno mash-up fills the car. At first, it’s low, giving us the opportunity to hear each other, unlike the volume she had the music playing on the way here.
“Who’s James?” I ask, afraid of the answer.
She shakes her head, throwing the car into first gear.
“The reason you became my fake husband in the first place.”
At first, I’m not sure what she's implying, but then she mentioned his name the first night we met at Luxe and I piece together that he’s the asshole who was touching her without her consent.
Shouting over the music, I ask, “Who is he to you?”
“My ex.”
“Oh.”
“Fiancé. The guy from Luxe.”
Oh.