Chapter 16 #3
“She’s just a friend,” Josh snaps as he raises his eyebrows at his mother.
“Oh Josh, stop it. You don’t spend every New Year’s Eve for five years with a girl if she means nothing.”
“Did anybody see the game last night?” Cameron interjects in a desperate attempt to change the subject. The atmosphere has taken a serious dive and I really want to throw my drink on him or her…on both of them, actually.
“Yes, it was great.” Dad smiles and they start to chat about football. I, however, am stuck on the New Year’s comment. My mind is going a million miles a minute…don’t let her get to you…don’t let her get to you. I know this is her aim and unfortunately, she has done just that. I’m totally rattled.
“Joshua, I’m thirsty, darling, I need another wine.” He immediately rises to go and pour her a drink.
My mum smiles. “So, tell me, Wilson, I hear you’re seeing a new girl.”
He smiles a warm smile and it’s obvious he likes this girl. “Amy,” he answers. “Her name is Amy.”
“Oh and, Wilson, I need you to take me to Darlinghurst tomorrow, darling. I am meeting Susan and I want you to join us,” Margaret purrs and he nods.
She swats Cameron with her serviette. “Don’t pick at your food.
” I sit back and watch their interactions.
I don’t believe it. How have I missed this?
She has these boys totally under her thumb.
They all dote on her like she’s the fucking Queen of Sheba.
Wicked Witch of the West is more like it.
“So, Bridget.” She smiles. “How is the travel industry going?”
“Oh good, thanks,” Bridge answers happily. “I’m going on a conference to Paris next week.”
Margaret smiles. “That’s exciting.” Bridget nods. “My boys all speak French, you know.” She winks at Bridget and Josh rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
“So, Natasha.” She puts her hands steepled under her chin as she starts to work her venom back in my direction. “What is it you do again?” She knows this, the bitch.
“I’m a psychologist.” I fake the biggest smile in the history of human life.
“Oh, in what field?”
“I’m a sexual health psychologist.”
“Hmm.” She smiles as she takes a sip of her wine.
“That figures, what a strange direction for a girl so young to follow.” I narrow my eyes at her as I start to hear my pulse in my ears.
Pick on me, bitch, and that’s OK, but pick on my career and it’s go time.
“I bet you are really good at manipulating, oh sorry, I mean controlling minds and thoughts.” The double meaning is not lost on me.
I can’t even pretend that she is not pissing me off now, the bitch.
“You have no idea,” I whisper as I glare at her. Joshua jumps up and starts to clear the table, obviously sensing the tension in the air, and Brock helps him. Mum and Dad go back into the kitchen to serve up dessert. Brock takes the first load of plates into the kitchen.
“Oh, I have a very good idea how well you manipulate,” she sneers.
I can’t hold my tongue any longer. “Have I done something to upset you, Margaret?”
The whole table falls silent and collectively hold their breath. Joshua drops the plates on the table and they clang. He does wide eyes at me, urging me to shut up. Who in the hell is Amelie, you prickface liar? You can go to hell too.
“No, we will get along just fine, Natasha, as long as you keep your claws out of my son,” she sneers. My blood is boiling.
Cameron interjects. “That’s enough, Mother.” OK that’s it, that’s the last straw and I can’t hold my tongue any longer. I’m feeling unstable. I stand and lean my hands on the table as I lean my face closer to hers.
“I have absolutely no plans. None! To get my claws into your precious son. But let me tell you this.”
“Natasha,” Bridget whispers, “that’s enough.” She grabs my hand and I jerk it out of her grasp.
“If, and that’s a big if, I decided to get my claws into your son, you had better be prepared, because not even the devil himself could stop me.”
She narrows her eyes. “Why you conceited little bitch.”
Cameron coughs. “Seriously. That’s enough, Mother.” I look across the table and Joshua is in shock, I think. He looks like he’s going to faint.
“Now, I have had enough.” I shake my head. “I’m leaving.” I stand and throw my napkin from my lap onto the table.
Joshua stands so quickly that his chair falls back and hits the ground. “Natasha, don’t go,” he pleads.
“Sit,” I snap as I point to his chair. “Mummy dearest here wants to breastfeed you and we couldn’t have you upsetting her. Get your diaper changed while you are at it. It will save you time later.” I hear Bridget and Cameron stifle a giggle.
I walk into the kitchen. “Mum, I have to go. I just got paged from work.”
“Oh, that’s a shame, darling. OK, I will call you tomorrow.”
I don’t remember getting into my car. I just know I am off-the-charts boiling mad.
Josh runs out to the car. “Natasha, don’t go. She’s just mad.”
“Josh, get the fuck away from me, you coward.” I poke him in the chest. He steps back. “Tell Cameron I said thanks for defending me.” His face drops at the realization it was his brother who defended me and not him.
“Natasha, please, she’s my mother. I was just trying to defuse the situation.”
“And what am I?”
He shuffles on his feet as he rubs both hands through his hair. “Don’t ask stupid questions,” he sighs.
“Stupid questions?” I shriek. This man is a total idiot. “Oh, that’s right, I’m your fucking booty call. Go inside. I just lost interest in you…big-time!”
“Tash, please,” he begs as he grabs my arm.
“Get your filthy hands off her.” Oh shit, it’s Brock.
“Not now,” Josh snaps at him.
Brock grabs Josh by the shoulder and Josh turns to Brock. “Don’t start your fucking shit, Brock, or you will be out cold on the fucking pavement.” Brock grabs him by the shirt and Josh slams him up against the car.
“Let me speak to her alone,” Josh snaps. “This is none of your business.”
“Fuck off,” Brock yells.
“Stop it, you idiots,” I yell, and the two bodyguards come running across the road.
I am too mad to care about either of them and the sudden distraction allows me to pull out and I speed off down the road.
Hot tears of frustration pool in my eyes and blur my vision.
I don’t think I have ever been this mad.
“We will get along just fine as long as you keep your claws out of my son.” The stupid movie screen in my head plays and replays the words again and again, each time with more venom than the last. Who was I kidding—she will never accept us.
And then there’s Amelie. That’s a whole different world of pain and I know it’s true.
I could see it in his face; he has serious feelings for her.
How deep they run I don’t know. Have they slept together?
My tears well again and I pull the car over, unable to see the road any longer.
I put my elbows on my steering wheel and weep into my hands.
My car rocks intermittently as the cars zoom past me at speed on the freeway.
They have common interests; she loves horses like him.
She lives in his house. They have a bond.
He lied to me again. He takes her away and, oohh, the pain slices me again and I sob…
New Year’s Eve. The lump in my throat begins to hurt as I hold in the tears.
He spends them with her…every year. Margaret knew exactly her target tonight and she hit it in a bullseye, attacking my insecurities.
My mind wanders back to the past New Years and I break into full-blown sobs.
At twelve o’clock every year I have thought of him, wished he was here with me, and he was kissing someone else.
Spending time with someone else…probably on frigging secluded islands and shit. Someone he cares about.
Out of the corner of my eye I see a man run up to the side of the car and I jump in fright.
I quickly start my car and hit the central-locking button.
Tap, tap, tap. To my horror, a man I have never seen before is tapping on the window.
I start to panic until I see Josh’s bodyguards standing on the side of the road next to the car, which I now notice is parked behind me.
My heart jumps and I quickly look around to see if he’s here, but of course he’s not.
He’s with his bitchface mother. I slowly wind down my window and the guy has the gall to look embarrassed now that he sees I’m crying like a baby.
He is in his early forties, bald and tough looking, and has the whole Bruce Willis vibe going on.
“Are you OK, Natasha?” He gives a sympathetic smile at me.
“Fine,” I snap as I wipe the snot from my nose on the back of my hand in such a feral manner I even surprise myself. “Who are you?” I demand.
He smiles and steps back, making eye contact with the other two. “Um, I’m your bodyguard,” he says quietly in an American accent, as if speaking to a child.
“What?” I scream. “I don’t have a bodyguard. Why in the hell do I have a bodyguard?”
“I’ve been with you for three weeks,” he whispers, thinking that would calm me down.
“What?” I scream. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why…how…I mean…are you serious?” I frown. This night has turned into the frigging twilight zone. My jaw is on the ground. “You have been following me for three weeks? I can’t believe it. How do I not know this?”
“Mr. Stanton organized it, ma’am.”
“Huh, ma’am. What am I, fifty?” My mind goes into overdrive and I get out of the car. “Why is the security so tight around Joshua?”
He frowns. “I’m sorry. I have specific orders not to divulge that information to you.”
“From who?” I snap.
“Ma’am.”
“Stop calling me that!” I scream.
“Um, OK. I think you should calm down.”
“Calm down…calm down…if you want to know who to guard tonight, guard Joshua, because I am going to fucking kill him.”
He steps back and smiles as if he knew I was going to say that. “Let’s just get you home safely, shall we, ma’am.” He turns me to push me back into my car.
“My name is Natasha, asshole,” I scream. “Don’t touch me.” I yank my arm free of his grip. I get back into my car and slam the door, taking off so fast I rev the shit out of my Honda.