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Dirty Red

Page 42

   


“It was beautiful,” I assured her. "Very romantic.”
A quick glance at Caleb.
She leaned close to me. “They’ve been bitching all morning about how much the wedding cost them,” she said. “Don’t bring it up.”
I felt my cheeks grow warm. This was typical behavior for my parents. Of course they’d pay for their eldest daughter’s wedding. Of course it would be extravagant and over the top to impress their friends. Of course they would bitch afterward about how much money they’d had to shell out for someone who wasn’t really blood. But, what else could they do? No one knew I wasn’t really theirs. To do anything less would cast a shadow over their perfect image as loving parents.
Please, God, please don’t let them say anything in front of Caleb.
My sister was holding a glass of red wine. I took it from her and swallowed a mouthful.
My mother was walking toward us, each of her birdlike steps tugging a fresh strand of dread to the forefront of my mind.
“You should really stay out of the sun, Leah,” she said, sitting down across from me. I looked down at my bronze colored arm. Despite the fact that I was fair skinned and had red hair, I tanned like an Italian.
“You look silly with color — it looks like you went for one of those spray tans.”
“She looks fine, Mother,” my sister snapped. “Just because you’re afraid of the sun, doesn’t mean we have to be.”
I shot my sister a grateful look and tensed for the next biting comment.
“Caleb looks well,” she said, glancing over to where he was still speaking with my father. “So handsome. I always thought he’d be a good match for you, Courtney.”
My head swam, my vision blurred. Courtney made an angry sound in the back of her throat.
“That is so wildly inappropriate,” she hissed. “Not only is perfect not my type, but Leah and Caleb go together better than any couple I know. Everyone says so.”
My mother raised her eyebrows. I found my tongue.
“Why would you even say something like that?” I said to her. “After everything you did to help me…”
She sniffed and took a sip from her own wine glass. “A woman shouldn’t have to fight that hard to be with a man. He should just want her…”
My sister was looking from one of us to the other. “What are you talking about?”
My mother’s eyes locked with mine in a silent warning. “Dinner should be ready,” she said. “Why don’t we head over to the dining room?”
Mattia still made most of my parents' meals. She’d been with my family since I was a little girl. I always looked forward to her cooking. Tonight, it was salmon with rice pilaf and a honey mustard glaze. She squeezed my shoulder as she set my plate down in front of me.
“Congratulations,” she whispered in my ear. I smiled at her. I’d wanted her to come to the wedding, but my parents thought it was inappropriate.
“I have something for you,” she said, “just a small something. I’ll leave it in the kitchen for you.”
I nodded at her, hoping my mother hadn’t heard. My mother had a gift for making heartfelt gestures seem silly and comical.
Mattia left the room after the last plate was laid, and I turned my attention to the conversation my father was having with Caleb. Despite his current feelings toward my parents, Caleb was composed and respectful, answering questions and delivering them in perfect sequence.
He was a social genius. I attributed it to the fact that he seemed to be able to get to the core of every person he met in one meeting, and from there on out, he automatically knew how to manipulate their moods. I’d seen him ask a stranger question after question, until he broke down their defenses. Initially, the subject of his interest looked mildly guarded, giving him censored answers. He timed his probing questions with jokes and self-deprecating comments that set the person at ease. He never judged. He narrowed his eyes when it was the other person’s turn to speak — a charming bit of body language that said: you are so interesting, keep speaking. I loved watching him speak to people. I loved watching them fall for him. By the end of a conversation with Caleb, people where so taken with him, they looked disappointed when the interaction ended. He really cared — that was the difference between Caleb and someone who was just being nosy. People picked up on that quickly.
Caleb was mine. He was finally all mine. I smiled at my salmon, and my sister kicked me under the table.
“What?” I mouthed to her.
She shook her head, smiling.
After dinner, we moved back to the living room. My father was old school; he pulled out the snifters and cigars as soon as we sat down. Caleb politely declined the cigar, but took a finger of Scotch.
I sat next to him, while my mother and sister disappeared into another part of the house. This was the man time, but I wasn’t leaving mine alone with my father. Not when he was angry with me about the money he’d shelled out for the wedding.
“What are your plans?” Daddy asked, pointedly ignoring me and looking at my husband. He blew a bit of tobacco from his lip, and I looked away. His mannerisms were beginning to annoy me.
Caleb licked his lips. “We put in an offer on a house. We’re waiting to hear from them.”
“I hope you don’t intend on keeping Leah at home. I need her to come back to the office.”
Caleb stiffened. I could read his body language as if it were my own. I wanted to hear what he would say to the great, powerful Smith strong arm.
“I don’t intend on keeping her anywhere,” he said. “Aside from my bed, she’s free to come and go as she pleases.”
I choked on my spit. I wanted to laugh at the look on my father’s face. He was crude, I’d heard him make all manner of jokes, but Caleb’s comment had disarmed him. Caleb probably knew it would — the brilliant little manipulator that he was.
My father cleared his throat, a slight smile on his lips.
Caleb turned toward me. “Do you plan on going back to work, Leah?”
Daddy wasn’t used to this. I wanted to sneak a look to see how he was handling his not daughter being asked her opinion.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I could think about it…”
Why did he want me back? He had an entire horde of employees to play his corporate game. Maybe, this was him trying? To what … be my dad? My boss? I was surprised he was even suggesting I go back to work, since he believed that after a woman got married, her place was in the home.