Page 4 of Bad Influence
I walk blindly until I end up on the balcony. The garden is lit up gloriously and the air is perfumed from all the flowers. A gentle breeze lifts my hair and I close my eyes, taking my first deep breath of the day. There’s a rock sitting on my chest and tears burn the back of my eyes that I won’t let fall.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Fuck. Can’t have a moment’s peace.
I open my eyes and turn to look at my future mother-in-law. Julia York’s blonde hair is twisted up into an elegant bun and she raises a hand to finger her pearl and diamond drop earrings. Her eyes are the same blue as her son’s and sometimes, I have a hard time looking directly into them without thinking of him.
“Just getting some air,” I reply.
I already apologized to her and Phillip York for my volatile behavior this morning. I didn’t have more to say to them.
Julia doesn’t say anything for a long moment. She also doesn’t leave. Standing next to me, she looks out at the brightly lit garden.
“You know they host weddings here,” she says conversationally.
I look at her. “You can’t seriously be talking about wedding planning today of all days.”
Shrugging casually, she turns to me. “The wedding is comingnear, and we do have some details to finalize. I don’t suppose there’s any inopportune timing to discuss the wedding.”
“I don’t know. If this were a funeral, it’d be an inopportune time to discuss a wedding.”
“This isn’t a funeral,” Julia reminds me helpfully.
Taking the champagne flute out of her hand, I down the remaining liquid. “Feels like one.”
She sighs deeply. The cool breeze lifts my hair and I push it behind my ear. If I close my eyes, I can almost hear the waves crashing on the beach.
“There are some things in life a woman just has to put up with,” Julia says, her gaze never wavering from mine. “Once you realize there isn’t anything you can do about it, you get used to it.”
I think I’m going to throw up. Without replying to her--because that comment was so asinine it doesn’t deserve one--I turn to walk back into the party. How do these people just expect me to move on as if nothing happened? As if all Beckett did is forget my birthday or an anniversary rather than cheat on me?
There’s no where I can hide. I see my brother across the hall, charming some clients like he always does. My father stands next to him with a proud look on his face. A look I have never seen on his face when he’s talking about me or looking at me. No matter how hard I work, it’s never enough.
“Killian.”
My head whips around so fast I might as well be possessed. There are two women standing by a pillar near me, their heads bent together as they talk. I don’t know their names, but I have seen them at these parties before; they’re only a few years older than me.
“I met him when I was in New York last month,” the taller one says. She’s wearing a black gown that hugs her body perfectly. Diamonds sparkle on her neck and ears.
“Oh my god! I thought he was a total recluse,” her shorterfriend replies. She’s wearing a sparkly gown that my mother would call gauche. “How does he look?”
“Still as hot and gorgeous as ever,” the tall one replies. “Still acting like we’re not good enough for him.”
“He hasn’t been here in years and they still gossip about him.”
I flush, looking away from the duo to the woman who’s appeared beside me. Kind blue eyes stare up at me from a face lined with wrinkles and I suddenly feel an overwhelming surge of emotion. My eyes brim with tears that I blink away.
“Gerry,” I whisper.
“Oh, dear girl,” Geraldine sighs. “What have they done to you?”
I lean forward, hugging Beckett’s grandmother. Her grip around me is still as tight as it used to be when I was a kid. My own grandparents didn’t tolerate emotions or physical affection beyond a perfunctory kiss on the cheek in greeting. Geraldine is the grandmother every kid deserves.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pulling away from her. “This whole day has been a mess.”
“That’s saying it lightly,” Gerry says with a chuckle. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. My idiot grandson on the other hand…”
She trails off, looking towards where Beckett is standing with my mother. My mother looks so proud, beaming at Beckett every so often, like she’s about to marry him.
