Page 101 of The Broker

A scowl painted his face, and my gaze dropped to the floor. Noah’s dad was fucking intimidating, and him overhearing me tell his son I wanted to sit on his face wasn’t just cringe.

It was horrifying.

“Dad.” Noah straightened and pretended he didn’t feel any awkwardness. “This is Charlotte.” I sensed he was looking at me then, and found his expression was fixed. “Charlotte, this is Gabe Robinson.”

My voice shook. “Hello.”

The only acknowledgement I got from Gabe was a grunt, like I was unworthy of using full words. It held the room in tense silence and made me want to die. But Theresa appeared then, oblivious to it all, and strolled to the fridge. She opened the door and surveyed its contents.

“Noah,” she said, “does your friend want to stay for dinner?”

His father laughed, only it wasn’t warm like his son’s could be, and he poured on the sarcasm. “I think they’re a bit more than friends, Theresa.”

I could feel the irritation rolling off Noah in waves, but he ignored his father’s comment. “No, thanks, we already ate.”

She closed the refrigerator, and it was then she noticed something was different in the kitchen. “What happened here?” Her focus went from the now-empty table to the bare counter beside the sink before zeroing in on me. “Did youclean?”

I nodded. “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to be useful.”

She stared at me with disbelief and the discomfort grew inside me until I couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Noah helped me,” I added. “I’m sorry.”

She blinked as she considered what to say next. Perhaps she was thinking up the perfect way to tell me what I’d done was rude but do it in a passive-aggressive manner like Southern women preferred.

Instead, she strolled over to a cabinet, opened it, and began to pull down some wine glasses. “All right. A drink, then.” The bases of the glasses clinked against the stone as she placed them on the counter, and her tone walked the line of being teasing or serious. “I’m assuming your girlfriend is old enough to have a drink.”

Noah gave his mother a plain look. “Yes, she’s old enough to drink.”

I pressed my lips together and steeled my expression so no one would know how excited I was when he didn’t correct her. Maybe it was for his father’s benefit, and it was just pretend for tonight, but I didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Great.” Theresa returned to the fridge and retrieved a bottle of white wine from one of the shelves on the door. “I think we all need one after the evening we’re having.”

“I’m sorry,” Noah announced, “but we can’t stay.”

She wasn’t fazed. She unscrewed the top of the bottle and began pouring a glass, but it became clear it was only for her. “All right,” she said. “Then you’ll have to bring her by for dinner.” She took a sip of her wine while her gaze slid to me. “I’d love to get to know this girl who’s convinced my son to clean.”

“Yeah, sure.” He looked pained. “Maybe some other time.”

She didn’t act offended at his attempt to brush her off.

“You going to pour a glass for me?” Gabe asked his wife.

“You’re not supposed to.”

He groaned. “Oh, stop it with that. It’s one glass.”

She turned to her son and her expression screamed,see what I have to deal with?

Noah straightened. “I think we’re going to head out.”

“You sure you can’t stay?” Theresa asked.

“No, thanks. As much fun as Charlotte and I have had, this wasn’t part of the plan for tonight.” He motioned to the doorway, asking me to start moving in that direction.

“Nice meeting you,” I eked out before going.

“Oh, you too,” his mother called back.

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