13. Dani
DANI
“Hi. You must be Dani.”
A shirtless man with ear gauges and bad tattoos opens my parents’ door.
“This is Toni. He’s bisexual.” Gran sticks her hands down his waistband.
“Feisty!” Toni slaps her hand.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to your rich boyfriend’s penthouse?” Piper gives me a grimace as we kick off our shoes in the foyer. “And take me with you.”
I make a face. As much as I would have rather gone back there to lounge in what I now think of as my suite… with Graham and the weirdness with his father? Maybe being in a familiar space—even if it is chaotic—is safer.
You are not in a position to judge, I remind myself.
“Why haven’t I met this boyfriend yet, Dani?
” Mom peers at me over her glasses when we come into the kitchen.
“I only saw those photos of him posted on your company Instagram. Everyone keeps asking me what he’s like, and I have to say I don’t know—my daughter doesn’t care enough about her mother to let her meet the future father of her grandchildren. ”
“I don’t know, Mom. He’s busy.”
“Busy. Too busy to meet his future in-laws?”
“I think your mother means that we’re very excited to meet him, Beans.” Dad kisses the top of my hair. “Whenever is convenient for you two.”
“No, I mean—” Mom shoos off Dad. “My daughter met his parents days ago—thank you very much—and here I am with nothing. Not even a photo.”
“I posted a photo.”
“You have a cinnamon roll hanging out of your mouth, Dani. I can’t send that to people. I can’t put that on the Christmas card.” Mom looks at me, shocked.
Getting Graham to come to a company function is one thing. Dinner with my parents?
I set my bags down. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Oh…” My mother throws up her hands. “I didn’t know if you girls were coming back for dinner. I had a bag of almonds. I’m stuffed.”
“Did you get any of that lobster mac and cheese from Costco, Dad?”
“You’re not going to serve that to your boyfriend when he comes over, are you?” my mom demands.
“Maybe we could go to Camelli’s?” Piper brightens. “I bet your boyfriend could get us a table!”
“You want us to meet him at a restaurant?” My mom is horrified.
“I can barely hear anything at restaurants. I want to have a conversation,” my dad says as he transfers his latest Costco purchase—an industrial-sized container of pistachios—into smaller tins.
“Your dad can barely hear.” My mom slaps her hand on the table. “Dani, try to think of your father.”
“She wants to show him off to the neighbors,” Piper whispers.
“Showing off? No one’s showing off—but we need to have him over Friday, early dinner, because that’s when the Hills leave for the Hamptons, and they need to see Graham.” Mom peers at her phone calendar.
“Do they?”
“Everyone’s worried about you.” Mom cuts me off. “Vivienne Belmont was telling me just the other day how concerned Colette was that you were moving too fast. She thinks it’s suspicious that he even found you attractive.”
Ouch.
“Of course he’d find you attractive, Beans,” Dad tells me earnestly. “You’re smart, and you come from a good family. You have great taste in clothes. Your mother and I are just concerned because Colette’s mom brought up a lot of red flags in your relationship.”
“For the record”—I force out through clenched teeth—“this is why I usually work late—so that I can Uber Eats dinner on the company card.”
“I don’t qualify for Uber Eats.” Piper slides onto a bar stool, whining.
“There are more almonds left, and your father bought an industrial-sized container of apricots, so I think you girls can put something together.”
“I mean, cheese and wine—that can be half a meal?” Piper shrugs.
“How very European!” Dad grins.
“Is there bread?” I sigh.
Dad pulls out a baguette.
“Perfect. You girls can eat and help me work on the chair covers for your brother’s wedding.”
“Goddamn it,” Gran swears, thumping in wearing a bright-purple jumpsuit with a big black fur coat. “You girls are wasting away your youth here. Get dressed into something that doesn’t make you look like a funeral extra. We’re going to hit the town.”
“I had a long day…”
“You call up that boy,” Gran tells me, “and have him come meet us all. We’re going on a triple date.”
“I don’t have a date,” Piper reminds her.
“I have friends.” Gran winks.
“Are they paying for dinner?” Piper asks flatly.
“Dani’s dating a billionaire—he’ll pay.”
“Don’t take advantage of poor Graham,” my mom chides.
“Text him,” Gran orders.
I know it’s just going to piss Graham off, and I’m too hungry to deal, so I just text Colette instead.
Dani: Did you guys choose a paper yet?
Colette immediately responds with a long list of items she wants me to add to my to-do wedding list.
And no paper selection.
“Dani, why don’t you put on that new dress I bought you—the green one with the flowers?” Mom calls.
“You wear that dress out in public with me, Dani,” Gran warns, “and I’m disowning you.”
Dad hands me a container of pistachios.
“You can take these to Graham. Tell him I saw them and thought he might enjoy them.”
“You didn’t even ask him?” Piper hisses.
“It’s just—I’m starting to rethink this whole fake-dating kidnapping situation.” I give her the rundown of what happened last night.
“I mean, when does this end—at the wedding?” I fret. “Maybe I should break it off before then. He’s clearly crazy and dangerous.”
My cousin punches my arm. “Who cares what his family situation is like? My own grandmother brought a homeless fashion designer as my date. And I think he and Toni are going to stiff us with the bill. You know what you need to do? You need to have sex with Graham and get pregnant.”
I shudder at the thought of Graham with a baby. Possessive, angry, crazy? That probably wouldn’t even begin to describe it. It would send him right over the edge.
I bet he’d never let me so much as hold the baby.
“Pregnant? You’re pregnant?” Gran says loudly as we head into the restaurant. Not Camelli’s, unfortunately, because in these trying times a girl needs pasta. Osteria di Luca, but they have good truffle fries.
“Awww!” Toni kneels down in front of me and rests his head against my belly. “There’s a little baby in there.”
The waiter gives me a judgmental look as I reach for the wine menu.
“I’m not pregnant! I just stress eat!” I shriek.
The people at the neighboring tables stare at us.
“Hi, Mrs. Fairchild!” Piper waves. “Are you still organizing that polo charity match this summer?”
“Could we have a bottle of the Malbec?” I beg the waiter.
Toni’s friend Francisco takes my hand. “Your grandmother tells me that you’re about to purchase your very own condo in Manhattan. Two bedrooms. I just want you to know—I am a decent handyman.”
“His last sugar mama kicked him out,” Toni tells me as he pours everyone a glass of red.
“You’re actually here for Piper,” I point out.
Francisco raises a beautifully penciled-in eyebrow.
I pick at my own scraggly ones.
“I am making barely above minimum wage.” Piper waves. “So I need a wealthy man in finance. We can’t both be broke and couch-surfing in New York City.”
“If you’re taken, then where is he?” Francisco leans in and trails his fingers along my shoulder. “This mysterious billionaire who you allegedly captured?”
“Yeah, where is he?” Gran says. “Because I need to know if we can order appetizers or not.”
“I, um…” I fumble for my phone. “Well, I think he might not be able to…”
“Oh damn, there he is.” Gran stands up and waves. “Don’t tell your mother he was late—she’ll think he’s some sort of violent kidnapper or something.”
Piper inhales her wine.
Across the restaurant at the bar, I see a tall, dark-haired man push off the bar top and head toward us.
And he looks pissed.