Page 12 of Stolen Moments

She nods and has enough grace to look agitated and ashamed of her friend.

Cameron doesn’t spare her a second glance as we walk away from the table. As we reach the front desk, he stops to chat with the hostess. He pulls out a wad of cash and holds it out to her. She nods—accepting the money as Cameron slips her another, smaller stack of bills—and smiles at him, her earlier jaded mask gone in a flash of green.

I shake my head with a laugh. He’s not returning to the table.

Cameron slaps me on the back. “Please tell me you self-parked.”

“You know it,” I say with a smirk.

Cameron chuckles as we make our way to the parking lot a block over. “Sorry about that.” He’s annoyed and upset about what transpired.

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Don’t. Ever.”

“My lips are sealed.” Cameron might be a goof, but he is loyal to a fault. He might give me crap, but not when it’s about something serious. I think this incident qualifies. “Wanna go grab a burger?”

“Hell yes.” I point at him as I hit the key fob, unlocking the door. “You’re still paying.”

Cameron gasps, clutching his invisible pearls. “As if I would make you pay after that shitshow.”

We slip into the car, and he turns on the radio, pulling out the extra pair of shades I keep in the glove compartment.

“Are you sure you want to ditch your date?”

“Fuck yeah. I paid for the meal before we left. I also paid the hostess to embarrass the shit out ofJennifer.”

I look over at him, a sneer marring his face as he shrugs like it’s no big deal. The casual action has us both bursting out with laughter.

I couldn’t be more grateful for him to have my back.

Chapter four

Emery

The Christmas tree glitters,catching my eye, as the white stream lights reflect off the handmade gold glass ornaments adorning the beautiful evergreen.

Evergreen. The same color as Mason’s eyes.

The empty ache in my chest that has taken root in the past few years has grown uncomfortably strong since I met him and walked away from him.

It’s for the best. Right?

With a sigh, I sip my champagne and try to focus on the conversation at hand.

My mother is once again entertaining everyone with the story of her most recent trip to Paris. The trip was a gift from my father, no doubt reparations for another one of his marital indiscretions. It’s always the same. He cheats. She finds out. He sends my mother on a shopping spree while he breaks up with whatever mistress he’s been entertaining before she returns.

I don’t understand how she can stand his infidelity, let alone being treated like an afterthought, instead of walking away. No amount of money is worth that level of humiliation in my book.

And yet… Here I sit like the dutiful daughter I am while my parents control my future.

I’m a fraud. I have no right to judge her when I allow my father to exert his power over me too. I’m no better than her, even if I keep telling myself it’s all for Chris. I’m still taking my father’s money.

A pinch to my arm has me yelping as my champagne splashes, dripping down my arms. I know better than to rub the pain away.

My mother sits next to me, patting my leg, before she whispers out of the side of her mouth at me, “Sit up. You look fat and pathetic hunched over.”

Pulling my shoulders back, I tilt my chin up and plaster on the fake smile she approves of when I’m in her presence. She continues her story—about some handmade silk dress she plans to wear for this year’s memorial party—like she didn’t just violate me. It’s nothing new, but I am growing tired of the insults and abuse. She thinks she holds all the power by hanging the agreement I made with my father over my head. With her behavior towards me, it’s become increasingly clear that my time is running out.

This is why I have to let the fantasy of Mason go.

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