Chapter 2 #3
I picked at the outside of my dish where the romaine wasn’t as dressed.
Even though the bite was small, it was still really good.
Every fiber of me was begging to eat more, to gobble down the savory-smelling shrimp.
I hadn’t eaten anything today and yesterday I’d only had a bland, small chicken breast for dinner.
The day before that had been my eighteenth birthday.
I lowered my fork. My hunger was quickly smothered as my thoughts strayed to my birthday.
I hadn’t been allowed to eat anything at all that day.
Mother had woken up very angry and immediately started drinking.
When she got drunk like that…I glanced at my wrist to make sure my sleeve hadn’t ridden up. Thankfully, it hadn’t.
“Charlotte,” Sharon said. “Tell us about yourself. Brandon says you’re quite the artist.”
Before I could respond, Mother scoffed. “It’s just a hobby. I wouldn’t go as far as to call her an artist. It’s more doodling than anything.”
I wasn’t surprised by the belittling. Mother hated that I drew.
She had wanted me to be a cheerleader just like she had been.
I had been for a time. Nearly all of freshman year.
However, what Mother had forgotten was that broken bones and bruise-covered skin didn’t mix well with cheerleading.
I’d hoped she wanted me to be a cheerleader enough to control herself.
Seeing how I didn’t cheer anymore, hope had betrayed me once again.
I glanced at Brandon and found him staring at me. He gave me a small, pitying smile that I found annoying. I returned my attention to his mother. “Yes. It’s just a hobby.”
“Oh. That’s nice,” Sharon said, not really sounding interested.
“What about school?” Bill asked. “You’re almost done. Will you be going to college?” The way he spoke scared me a little. It was as if he expected to be answered or else.
“We’re hoping Brandon will be getting his acceptance letters soon,” Sharon interjected before I could answer her husband. “We have our fingers crossed for Duke. His father went to Duke and his father before him.”
“What a coincidence,” Mother said. “Charlotte applied for Duke as well.”
My schooled expression slipped for only a heartbeat at her lie. I glanced at her. She was busy cutting off a small piece of shrimp and bringing it to her mouth.
Clay’s warm, large hand slid over my bare left thigh. I flinched before staring back down at my plate, heart beating fast and disgust squeezing my throat.
“Kendrys normally go to Brown, but my Charlotte is her own person,” Mother continued.
“She more than likely won’t go work for her grandfather’s company even though her father did leave her his shares.
I honestly don’t think the corporate world will suit her.
So I don’t see the point of her going to Brown.
” Mother picked up her gin with lime and took a small sip.
As she went to set her glass back down, she added, “I’m sure her future husband can help contribute to the family business in her stead. ”
Over the years, I’d mastered a schooled expression, but tonight I was struggling.
Everything Mother was saying was…I didn’t know what to make of what she was saying.
Yes, I’d applied for Brown at Grandfather’s insistence.
Yes, it was expected of me to go work for him as my father had done.
Ever since I was little, that had been what my family had planned for my life.
I hadn’t known Father had left me his shares in the Kendry company.
As for applying for Duke, I hadn’t. I’d only applied for Brown and, unbeknownst to everyone but Ms. Clark, an art school in California, not that I’d be able to go even if I was accepted.
So why was Mother lying to them? What was she trying to gain?
Clay’s thumb rubbed along the skin just above my knee, as if to praise me for keeping quiet and letting Mother spew her false tale. I tried moving my knee away, desperate to get his appalling hand off me. The small pull away from him made him grip me harder, holding my leg in place.
“Are you certain Sullivan would be open to that?” Bill asked Mother.
What will Grandfather be open to?
“As I’ve said before, Bill, he will be family and Kendrys take care of family,” Mother said.
He who?
I glanced around the table to see if I could find the answer. Bill and Sharon were exchanging a look before they fixed their gazes on me. The way they stared made me want to sink into my chair and slide beneath the table to hide.
“So, Brandon,” Mother said, “I hear you’re the pitcher and captain for the baseball team.”
Brandon took a quick drink from a glass of water to wash down the bite of food he had been chewing. “Yes. Our first game is on Monday.”
“Have you and Charlotte spent time together outside of school before?” Mother asked. “I feel like I’ve heard her talk about you in the past.”
Another lie. To know who I was friends with, she’d have to care enough to ask me about my personal life, since I couldn’t exactly bring anyone home.
“I’d say we’re friends,” Brandon said, staring at me. “Wouldn’t you, Lottie?”
Clay’s grip tightened in warning. I forced myself to nod. “We have a lot of the same friends. We’ve gotten to know each other over the years.”
A strange glint showed in Brandon’s eye as he looked to Mother. “I have to confess that I’ve asked Lottie out before.”
Mother side-eyed me. “Oh, really?”
“But she turned me down,” Brandon added.
Mother cleared her throat. “Unfortunately, that’s my fault. I’ve been opposed to her dating because I worried it would distract her from her studies. I hope you won’t hold my strict parenting against her.”
Why so many lies? Did she not want to offend him?
“Of course he won’t,” Sharon said quickly, then smiled at her son. “Our Brandon has had a crush on Charlotte for quite some time.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Brandon said, sounding embarrassed, but he didn’t look it.
“Since it’s almost graduation, and now that Charlotte is an adult, there isn’t any reason for me to stop her from dating any longer,” Mother said. “If you would like to ask her out again, I know she would be happy to accept.”
Air locked in my lungs as Sharon put her hand on Brandon’s shoulder in an encouraging manner. “You should take Charlotte out for ice cream and a movie after dinner.”
“That would be a cute first date,” Clay commented after being quiet for most of the conversation. His tone told me he was enjoying himself.
Brandon’s brow furrowed. “There’s a party tonight.”
“Go together,” Bill said, and it sounded like an order.
Brandon’s eyes met mine. “Wanna go together?”
He asked me as if I had any choice in the matter. My lungs still refused to move, and I couldn’t even fathom a response.
“She’ll go with you,” Mother said when I didn’t answer him quickly enough. “Won’t you, Charlotte?”
I was finally starting to understand why we were here, and I was going to be sick if I didn’t pass out from not being able to breathe first. I felt like a puppet in the theater act that was this dinner and Mother and Clay were controlling my strings.
Were the Carmichaels doing the same with Brandon?
Did it matter? Mother wanted me to date Brandon.
I just didn’t know why. What would she gain?
Clearly the Carmichaels thought they would gain something from Grandfather.
Or maybe they wanted to get their hands on the supposed shares I had in the Kendry company, but the only way they could was if I married Brandon.
Wait.
No!
Arranged marriages weren’t unheard of when it came to connecting two wealthy families.
“Charlotte?” Mother said with a slight tone.
Clay’s hand moved up my thigh until his fingers slipped underneath the hem of my dress. That move shocked my lungs back to life and I struggled to make myself breathe normally. I nodded. “Yes.”
At my answer, the next course of our meal was brought out.
Sharon beamed, letting her excitement show for her son. Her baby boy was getting what he wanted.
Bill began asking Brandon questions like where the party was and who was going to be there.
Mother insisted that he should be the one to bring me home and not to worry about a curfew.
As they talked around me, I sat there wanting to scream.
Clay’s hand moved up even farther. When it was fully under the skirt of my dress and a finger grazed my underwear, I shot up from my chair. Everyone went quiet, eyes all on me.
“Please excuse me,” I said before leaving the table.
On my way out of the room, I quietly asked one of the house staff where the restroom was.
They led me to one. As soon as I shut the door and turned on the light in the tiny room, I just stood there in front of the vanity and tried not to hyperventilate.