Chapter 5
DELTA
The soft smile I’ve been keeping on my face makes my muscles cramp. Maybe I’m used to spending time by myself, but pretending to be nice and kind and overall a good girlfriend to Vance’s parents is tough.
Not as tough as I feared, alright, but still difficult.
My cheeks are hurting from maintaining the look, and I’m dying to take the pins from my hair.
Even sitting down, the heels I’m wearing squeeze my feet mercilessly—Vance, somehow, found out my dress and shoe size and bought the clothes for tonight.
I never thought I’d put Louboutins on my feet, but the surprise washed away pretty quick with how uncomfortable they are.
I eat another morsel of the expensive food a chef prepared for us tonight. The plates are so small I’ll be forced to attack the kitchen later. “Mrs. York,” I start, catching her eyes. “I cannot believe for a moment you’re old enough to be Vance’s mother. You must have had him so young.”
The sycophancy doesn’t come naturally, but I’m doing my best to make them like me.
That’s my part of the job, after all. Vance gave me the computer, and it’s worlds better to have something new to work on.
He saved my ass, since my old one gave up on me this morning, just as I finished backing everything up.
Mrs. York giggles and bats a hand in dismissal. “You’re too kind, darling. I was twenty-five. But all you have to do to maintain good skin is to drink water and avoid the sun. That’s why I look so young.”
Vance scoffs. “That and Botox,” he murmurs.
I snort, then cover my mouth, shooting up a look. Oh, damn, I shouldn’t have laughed at that.
“What was that, darling?” she asks, raising her brows in doubt. Lucky for Vance, the dining table is so large his parents are some distance from us. His dad is so distracted with his phone I bet he didn’t even notice us talking.
“Nothing, Mom.” And Vance has the audacity to grin. I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing.
The dynamic between Vance and his parents is obvious fifteen minutes after meeting them.
Vance grew up in a rich but cold family.
His mother looks more worried about her beauty, hence my compliment, and his father is all about the company and the money.
They’re the kind of people who will ask how you are but won’t wait for the reply.
“Where did you two meet, anyway?” Mrs. York asks, sipping from her glass of wine.
Heat coils in my chest. We didn’t talk about the details, Vance and I. We never agreed on a common story, like where we met, how our first date was, and where we first kissed. I dart a desperate look at him, wondering if this is how they catch us.
“At a dating app, like everyone else nowadays,” Vance replies without missing a beat. He glances back at me with reassurance. What does he have in mind?
“Oh, dating apps. It’s so crazy how these things work, right? When I was young...” And she starts on a long story about having to ask her father’s permission to date and how people took time to hold hands, and then she takes a turn and tells us all about a friend’s third wedding.
I glance at Vance and he winks. He knows what he’s doing. His mother enjoys being the center of attention, and it's easy to make her talk. Guess that’s what I’m going to do, too. If I keep asking questions, she’ll never have the time to ask anything about us.
We’re halfway into dessert and I’m confident in our ruse when I catch Mr. York’s gaze. He’s staring at me with narrowed eyes, studying me too closely. I look away, but when I glance back, minutes later, he’s still looking.
“You know,” he finally cuts in, and his deep baritone voice pierces into me like a hot knife. “You never told us what you do, miss.”
“Her name is Delta, sir.” Vance arches an eyebrow, sitting straighter and pulling his shoulders back. Almost as if he’s getting ready to defend me. “And she’s a...”
“I did not ask you, boy,” Mr. York interrupts Vance, his eyes drilling into me. “If you are going to marry my son and bear my name, you have to deserve it. My family never believed in women working out of home, and I need to know you’re willing to put the reputation of this family first.”
“Dad, this is...”
Mr. York raises a hand, stopping Vance. “For example, your appearance. I’m surprised Vance has said nothing, but you will have to drop some weight, girl. Do something about your hair, too. It looks neglected.”
“Dad,” Vance calls out, his voice fierce, harsh with insult.
It’s only then I notice my eyes wet with unshed tears, the heavy weight on my chest. I’ve heard this before, many times over.
How I had to change so people would accept me, how people would like me better if only I lost weight.
It never stops hurting, but I’ve stopped fighting the words.
This time, though, I don’t need to fight.
Vance slams a hand on the table, making me jump. “Don’t talk about her like this.”
I shoot a glance at him. He doesn’t need to stand up to me. We’re not together, not for real. A vein thrums in Vance’s temple, and it takes me aback how mad he looks, with the ground jaw and the wide eyes. Why? Because of me?
“How dare you...” starts Mr. York with his eyes going red.
Mrs. York reaches out and taps her husband’s hand. “Calm down, the two of you.” She leans toward her husband. “Have you ever thought you’d see him defending someone like this? He’s in love, dear. Let him be.”
My heart speeds up in my chest. Vance isn’t in love.
He can’t be. He’s just pretending... right?
I never thought he’d be such a good actor he could fool his parents this well, but he has to be.
My mind races with these thoughts, and my chest grows heavy.
There’s a buzzing in my ears when I see Vance defending me like this.
So fiercely, so genuinely. Is he trying to fool me too?
God. Am I falling in love with this man?
“Sorry,” he says, not meaning it. “I won’t have anyone saying such nonsense about her. Delta is a grown woman, and she can do whatever she wants with her life and her body.”
Mr. York frowns hard and parts his lips as if he’s about to say something more, but Mrs. York smiles, bringing the spotlight to her again. “Of course, darling. It’s so good to see you so in love. When are we going to see a wedding?”
I’m still shaky, glancing at Vance for reassurance, grateful Mrs. York is keeping the attention to herself. If I had to do anything now, I’d probably shatter.
Vance releases a sigh and ignores his mother. “Shall we move to the drawing room for coffee?” he asks, offering me a hand.
I take it, his fingers wrapping around mine, grounding me.
My mind floats, and I’m wondering about a drawing room and if they weren’t supposed to be something out of Jane Austen’s books.
Vance sits me next to him in lounging chairs, his mother taking the love seat across from us while his father stands near a desk.
Mr. York opens a window and goes about lighting a cigar—a cigar, not a cigarette—and giving it all of his attention.
I’m still clinging to Vance’s fingers when the man who’s been serving us walks in balancing a tray in his hand.
There are four small cups of coffee, yes, but there are also four glasses of bubbling champagne.
I frown as Vance shoots to his feet, distributing glasses all around.
Weird timing for champagne, but rich people, right?
Shrugging the thought away, I take mine and tilt the glass, taking a long sip of it.
The alcohol will help me relax, and I need to calm down.
Something clinks against my teeth. I bite down, panic surging through me as I ask myself what is in my glass.
I pull back as something solid hits my tongue, drops of champagne escaping my lips down my chin.
Mrs. York raises her brows, glancing at me as everything comes to a stop.
I reach up and pluck a ring from between my teeth.
A diamond ring, the rock so big it catches the light, blinding me for a second.
Vance kneels next to me. His eyes catch mine, and I sink into them, hypnotized by how hard they glint at me. He holds me there, stuck to his gaze, caged in his presence.
“Delta Nolan, will you marry me?”
His mother gasps. My jaw drops. Heat floods my face, tears swimming in my lower lashes, and then I remember. I remember it all.
This is not true. Why would I think it was? We’ve known each other for a week; he’d never propose after such a short time. He would never propose, period. Vance has already said he doesn’t believe in love.
God, I’m such a fool. My heart is his. All his... And it shouldn’t be.
It takes me a moment to catch my breath, to pull the mask back up. When I do, I force a smile to my lips and nod. “Of course I will!”
He takes me in his arms and kisses me. His mother squeals and then hugs us tight. She kisses my cheeks several times. Even his father seems pleased, nodding, then offering Vance a cigar. Everything’s going according to plan.
Everything but my heart breaking.