Page 20 of Cocky Choices: Zoe Cocker

She did not.

Is it better to have no parents than to have parents like these?

A snort escapes my nostrils, one she doesn’t address or perhaps even notice, and I sip my water once more before setting it down with a firm grip that will remain on the glass until our second course arrives.

“Camilla,” Caleb Astor II grumbles. “You couldn’t lose your appetite even if the other half of this establishment blew up and people were screaming while you ate.”

She seethes, but says nothing as Escargot is placed in the center of our tablecloth by a server pretending he didn’t hear what my father just said. His hint of shock tells me he did.

Despite their narcissism and determination to lack compassion and kindness, I plan to stay sober one day at a time, but running his corporationisn’ta dream of mine. Which he’d know if he ever paid attention to what I have repeatedly told him. Tonight I’m not in the mood to reiterate that my goal is to branch out and find my own purpose. Why waste my breath?

Mother reverts the conversation back to his event, her tone forced lighter. “We want this to be a celebration, Caleb,” she tells me. “A culmination of your father’s hard work. You know how much this means to him… and to our reputation.”

Reputation. The word hangs in the air like a noose.

I glance out a spotless window at the bustling street below, where ordinary lives unfold, far removed from the world of high society my parents and I inhabit. On the corner my gaze is caught be a man holding a cardboard sign, head tipped down as pedestrians pass him. A little girl tugs on her father’s suit and hestops to dig for change, dropping two bills into the man’s cup. A smile tugs on my lips as I see immense gratitude beaming off the man’s surprise. Must’ve been more than a couple of one dollar bills. Did he give him a couple of fives? Tens? Twenties?

Returning to stare at the escargot I’m not going to touch, I consider my life. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the opportunities wealth has provided. It’s just… it has shown no sign of making me happy. Glancing to my parents I realize that I’ve always felt like an accessory. Something created to make them look good.

“Isn’t the venue stunning?” Mother continues, her gaze drifting to her wine glass as she lifts it. “The ballroom will be transformed into an opulent space. Flowers galore, golden accents…” She trails off, lost in her own visions of grandeur. Or perhaps she noticed her husband wasn’t listening.

“Right,” I smile, trying to sound enthusiastic but my thoughts are clogged with anger at our patriarch and a wish to be anywhere but here. “It sounds amazing. And I’ve found and hired the perfect florist.”

“Have you?” She sips. “Good.”

My father is focused on his snail delicacy with the same expression he usually wears — disdain and disinterest. “Caleb, I want you to think about your future. This dinner could open doors for you. Now that you’re sober,” he says before muttering, “for however long that will last,” and adding in a louder voice, “networking is crucial.”

I take a deep breath, and echo, “Networking,” playing along. I’ve heard all of this before.

“Exactly,” he insists. “Just think of the connections you could make. The Cocker family will be attending. Elijah Cocker looks as if he’s headed for the White House. It’s a perfect opportunity. Don’t screw it up.”

The mention of the Cockers is new and sends a thrill through me.Zoe Cocker.Her name dances in my mind like a beacon. I’ve been thinking about her a lot today — her pretty face, laughter, innocent green eyes, odd way of thinking, the way she challenges me to be more playful. More optimistic? I’m not sure if that’s the right word. I’ve yet to get to know her, but from the little I’ve experienced I know it won’t be a chore. When we chased around her cat, I wasn’t Caleb Astor III, the son of a wealthy powerhouse. I was just a guy laughing harder than he has in a long time. I wonder what she’s doing right now?

With interest I lock eyes with my father. “I forgot about Elijah Cocker.”

“How many times have I told you that you should pay more attention to politics!”

Ignoring the barked reminder, I decide that now is as good a time as any to dive in. “Actually, there’s something I need to tell you both.”

My parents look at me, expressions shifting to wariness. Mother blinks three times. “What is it, son?”

I clear my throat. “I’m marrying Zoe Cocker.”

The words hang in the air, charged and electric. Father’s silver brows knit together as if he’s trying to process the implications. Mother’s mouth opens slightly, surprise evident in her wide eyes as she exclaims, “That was fast!”

“Zoe Cocker?” my father repeats, the name rolling off his tongue with a mix of skepticism and intrigue. “The Cocker family. They’re quite well-known.”

“Yes,” I say, heartbeat echoing in my ears. “Zoe’s incredible. She’s passionate, driven, and she made me laugh.” I add a statement I don’t even know is true, “She’s everything I want.”

Mother’s expression softens, though I detect a hint of apprehension. “Do you think they’ll approve, dear? The Cockerfamily is very prominent. They have a reputation to uphold, just like us.”

“Camilla!” Father barks. “There is no family more prominent than ours. Certainly not the Cockers.”

“In Atlanta,” Mother asserts, “we are not well known.”

“Peopleknowmy companies.”

“But not who owns their umbrella corporation, and thereby who ownsthe companies.”

---