Page 68 of Lush

Right after she finished, I felt someone behind me.

“Harold,” Mom greeted him. “Where have you been?”

“Just got back from Vegas.” He nodded, glancing between Laurene and me. “Reese. Laurene. You’re both standing and no blood spilled, so everything is going great, hm?”

Hearing “blood,” Laurene squeezed my hand, drawing closer.

I began to reply, but a loudclankstopped me.

We turned toward the noise. Laurene gripped my arm tightly, her eyes wide as she looked around us. Near the entrance, a tray of crystal glasses lay shattered on the floor. A server stood frozen in front the wreckage, his eyes wide with shock.

“For God’s sake,” Dad muttered, his face twisted in disgust. “Maybe we need to start firing the invalids. The tax break from hiring them isn’t enough.”

I felt Laurene stiffen beside me.

“Dad,” I said. “You don’t have to be an ass.”

He looked at me, his face unreadable. “If thosepeoplecan’t handle the job, they shouldn’t be here.”

“I’ll go take care of it,” Jennie said, and gave me a look before she hurried over to the server.

Without missing a beat, Dad turned to Laurene. “I trust you find the evening to your liking, Laurene?”

“Yes, everything is lovely.”

“Lovely? I expect more than ‘lovely’ for an event on this scale. We spent good money on this for you. Or has your taste declined slumming it around in Germany?”

I clenched my jaw, and Laurene’s hand tightened in warning. Dad’s eyes flicked toward me then, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

“Paris, Mr. Ashbourne, I was living in Paris,” Laurene said slowly, and I bit my tongue for her.

“Ms. King, I trust you understand the importance of our partnership here.” His tone oozed with false congeniality. “Your family’s connections and resources are invaluable assets to us. We’re not just here to piss around on hors d’oeuvres.”

“Harold,” Mom hissed.

“Are you fucking drunk?” I snapped.

Dad’s eyes flickered, narrowing into slits. He straightened, adjusting his jacket like the accusation slid right off him. “Watch yourself, boy.”

“You’re pathetic.”

His jaw tightened. “Excuse me?”

“You’re talking to myfiancée. Stop making an ass of yourself while ruining my mother’s party. Watch your mouth.”

“How dare?—”

“Respect her, or I’ll make damn sure you regret it.”

The room seemed to still for a moment, the air thick with tension. Dad stared at me, his expression icy, but I didn’t back down.

Mom shifted awkwardly. “Reese, let’s not?—”

“Mr. Ashbourne, I am not oblivious to the context surrounding us being here tonight,” Laurene said. “We knowwhat our job is.”

“I hope so. Maybe you’ll be useful, unlike my foul-mouthed son here.”

Laurene’s grip on my shoulder tightened, but it was too late. That barb hit its mark.

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