Wow, Rich really is a dick.
Jane has us take our seats and servers bring us the first course because this is what stupidly rich people do for family night. I can’t wait to tell Merc. He’ll have a bird and go on his usual rant about the horrendously privileged.
I can’t help liking the fanciness, just a little. I could get used to this for special occasions.
Drinking wine helps with swallowing down Elkingtons. As promised, when I’m served my first course, it’s something I can eat. A salad with dressing on the side.
“Is the salad okay, my dear? I know it’s important to stick to our meal plans when we’re training. It takes a lot of discipline. I admire you for it,” Jane says.
“It’s a great salad. I appreciate you observing my special requirements.” I glance at Rhett. He did this for me. I squeeze his hand in thanks.
“I’m a little more indulgent during the off-season, but as you’ll soon find out, I’m as strict as you are with my particular requirements during the in-season,” he says.
Rhett shines his million-dollar smile on me, and I return it without a thought. I like that. If I’m going to have a fake boyfriend, it’s better for me if our eating habits are equally stringent. Leaning against his bulky form is a welcome relief from the tension trying to consume us.
Angelique brightens. “It’s nice to see you happy with someone, big brother.”
Maxwell clears his throat. “Where’s his bracelet?” he asks Rhett.
I do my best not to look bewildered, but I want to know what bracelet he’s talking about, too. Rhett shifts underneath me. He’s uncomfortable.
“It’s being made. We’ve only just begun dating; I didn’t want to overwhelm him.” Rhett lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles.
“It’s not like you, son. That’s all,” Maxwell says with judge-y eyes. “Well then, let’s head to the next course.”
All through the next course, he grills Rhett as Rhett expected. Thankfully, not about me, but that’s almost worse. Doesn’t this man know how hard Rhett works? Most people can’t see the tiredness creep into Rhett’s perfectly maintained features—the man has, like, four spa-type treatments per week—but I do because I’ve gotten to know his face. Everyone—including him—thinks he’s invincible, but I know his secret: The man is still human.
Irritation is a constant stab to my brain with each critique of Rhett’s perfect schedule. Rhett isn’t feeling like I am about the critiques. It’s like his father hung the moon and if Rhett can take enough notes from his book, he can do the same. What’s wrong with him? It would be one thing if Rhett actually needed the feedback, but as far as I can tell, he’s an NHL star on his way to becoming a legend. Like that guy Jack and Merc are always talking about. What’s his name? Gretzinski or something like that. They think Rhett’s gonna be the next Gretzinski.
I don’t realize how hard I’m scowling until Rhett leans to whisper in my ear. “Better be careful or your face is going to freeze that way. What’s the matter? You don’t like your lemon chicken?”
I do like the chicken, a little too much. It was probably prepared by singing fairy chefs from France. “Tell you later, baby.”
Rhett beams and nuzzles my neck.
“Do you have a proper trainer, Logan?” Maxwell says.
Oh no he doesn’t. He’s not starting on me. “In fact, I do. My coaches are top in the league, and I’ll be attending one of the best programs in North America. I was partnered with the top figure skating athlete in my class.”
“Mmm,” he murmurs.
He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care at all. He sits up taller, about to feast on me.
“I don’t care if you two have been dating for two years or five minutes. If you’re dating my son—myfamousson—then you have subscribed to this family. You’re either in or you’re out.” I don’t doubt he’d do this to any of Rhett’s potential boyfriends, but with me, it’s a test. Rhett’s right, his father doesn’t believe us. He’s trying to call our bluff. “If you’re in, you follow the rules. You’re involved in a highly competitive sport—that’s good—but you’ll excel, and if you’re not for some reason, I’ll be the one to fix it.”
Rhett squeezes my thigh under the table, begging me not to start an argument with his father.
“What do you require from me, sir?”
“I want reports on your progress. That will be fine for now. Rhett will explain how you can send them.”
Is it still illegal to skin people alive? If not, we should make an exception and then dunk him in a vat of lime juice.
“I am the mayor of this city, Logan. My family has to stay in check. If you’re dating Rhett that includes you, full stop.”
Usually, it’s an honor to be considered part of someone’s family. It’s all I long for. I’m not thrilled to be included as part of Maxwell’s brood, but damn, this is what we’re dealing with. I see it now. He’s an obvious-not-obvious villain. The worst part is, Rhett looks up to him for some reason.
“I understand.”