Page 39 of Silver Foxed

Dad’s right—he does look nice. Who am I kidding? He looks more than nice. His silver hair and salt-and-pepper beard are styled perfectly, and the black fitted suit he’s wearing looks as if it was tailored for his body. The masculine and lean body I’ve imagined lying on top of mine every night. The body I’ve craved to hold me.

I cross my legs under the table and take a sip of my wine, hoping a little alcohol will soothe my nerves. I cringe at the flavor—the bartender was right. It’s too warm. It’s also just not good.

“Not to your liking?” Elijah’s question reaches my ears.

I flush at his words, my eyes darting to my parents. They don’t think anything funny of the comment, and why would they? To them, it seems like he’s simply making conversation. But all I’m thinking of is my dinners with Elijah. Of our time in the hot tub when I had the taste of merlot and his cum on my tongue. And by the secret smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he’s thinking of it, too.

“It’s fine,” I say, taking another sip, though I can’t hide my grimace.

Dad chuckles. “You have a delicate palette, Alex. Elijah, you should see my girl at the vineyards in Napa. She gives every sommelier a run for their money.”

I flush. “I’m not that good, Dad.”

“I beg to differ. You’re remarkable,” Elijah says almost too quickly, making my parents blink at him in confusion.

My now fully red cheeks combined with my wide-eyed stare has him recognize his error. He takes a sip of the water in front of him before he says, “Alex was kind enough to teach me about wines when we were at the lake house.”

“Oh, yes.” Dad smiles, his shoulders relaxing. “I keep forgetting about that accident.”

“I swear Oliver and I talk to each other,” Mom says to Elijah. “I’m the one who keeps track of who is staying when, and I thought it would be free for Alex to take.”

“It’s okay, Stephanie,” Elijah says. “It was nice to have company.”

“You never did say what you did that weekend,” Dad says, taking a sip of what looks like whiskey while bouncing his gaze between Elijah and me.

I didn’t say because I knew I could never keep a straight face. My gut wrenches, and I wish more than anything I wouldn’t have come tonight. Had I known Elijah would be here, I would have faked sick or something to avoid this exact moment.

“I told you about it, Oliver. We mostly spent time separately except for meals when Alex offered to cook.”

I close my eyes for a brief moment, thinking of our meals together that weekend, how we fell so easily into a routine with each other. I haven’t cooked much since then, not only because I’ve been short on time with work but because it reminds me too much of him.

“Right, right,” Dad says. “I remember you saying that now.” But by the way he continues to look between me and Elijah, I feel like he knows something. Which would be impossible. It’s not like he had cameras inside the house. Do I have “I fucked your best friend and VP” stamped across my forehead?

Just as it seems like Elijah is about to say something, Mom interrupts. “Oh look, Alex. Brad is here.”

Goosebumps break out over my arms—not from the mention of Brad alone, but from Elijah’s intense stare. Thankfully, Dad’s eyes are following Mom’s, and they are ignoring us. I swallow, diverting my focus away from a steely Elijah.

“You should go say hi to him,” my mom says, and I purse my lips.

Dad chuckles when he sees my sour face. “Stephanie, darling, stop trying to set her up with Brad. You know how poorly that date went. Plus, I don’t like him, either.”

Mom whacks his shoulder. “You don’t like anyone for Alex.”

Dad takes another sip of his drink, his eyes smiling at me. “That’s because nobody is good enough for my little girl.” When he puts his drink down, he turns his attention to Elijah, who is now looking quite pale. “When you have kids, Astor, you’ll get what I’m saying. You’ll want to murder anyone who even looks at your child wrong.”

Elijah swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing on his cleanly shaven throat. Thankfully, the awkward moment is broken by the lights dimming and the emcee’s voice over the loudspeaker welcoming everyone to the awards. Dad’s focus goes to the stage, and he says something to Elijah that I can’t hear.

I pick up my wine glass and pray his award is early on so I can fake a stomachache and leave before they serve the food. While the man onstage talks about innovation and the hard work it takes to be an entrepreneur, I can’t help but watch Elijah’s side profile. He’s paying attention to the awards, but I can see his jaw clenched and brow pinched from here. He’s most likely remembering what my mom said about my dad not liking anyone for me. He’s probably convincing himself that he was right for keeping what we had to one weekend.

As I reach for my water, Stephanie leans over and whispers in my ear.

“Honey, did something happen between you and Elijah?”

My mouth turns to sandpaper. “What?” I say, attempting to keep my voice level and very quiet. “Why would you ask that?”

“Call it a mother’s intuition.”

I give her the Are you joking? look, and she sighs, saying even quieter now, “And you keep giving each other funny looks.”

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