Page 292 of The First Time
Chapter Fifteen
The house is more modest than I imagined. Two stories. Four bedrooms. A walkway lined with rosebushes.
I squeeze Blake's hand as we move towards the door.
My heart is racing. My stomach is flip-flopping. I'm not sure I've ever been this nervous. Lying at a party is one thing. But sitting down with his mom and lying to her face?
I'm still not sure if I'm capable.
Blake squeezes back. It's too sweet, too comforting. I need to banish all the ideas floating through my head, the ones about this being real.
The door is open. He turns the handle and motionsafter you.
I step inside. It's warm. And it's beautiful. Pictures line the staircase, pillows decorate the couch, books overflow from a shelf against the wall.
We move into the kitchen. Meryl is nursing a glass of wine. Fiona is sitting with a man in a suit. He's in his 30s and he's not really here. His attention is all on his shiny iPhone.
He's the picture of a Wall Street guy. Similar attire, but he's so different from Blake.
It's hard to explain. This guy radiates a certain self-importance. Blake is arrogant, but there's a kindness behind his eyes.
Blake takes my coat and hangs it, and his, on a rack. He greets his family with a nod. "Kat, this is Trey, Fiona's husband."
Oh. Of course. That explains a lot. I'd doubt the possibility of marriage for love if this guy was my husband.
Trey looks up from his phone for a split second. He nods. "Nice to meet you."
Meryl catches my gaze. She shakes her head as she nods to Trey. "What are you two drinking? And don't say you're driving. I saw the limo pull away. What does the poor driver do while you're here?"
"Earn his salary." Blake plants a soft kiss on my cheek. "I'll get drinks."
Meryl holds up her mostly empty glass. "Wine is on the counter."
Blake frowns but takes her glass. I guess there's no sense of objecting to drinking harming her health. Not if she's dying.
My stomach drops. I force my lips into a smile. Half my thoughts go to the warmth on my cheek. I can still feel his lips. The other half go running in the other direction. Thestop getting caught up in your own liedirection.
"Have a seat, sweetie," Meryl says. "I remember working in a restaurant. I was always desperate to get off my feet."
I sit. "Actually, I'm not working at the restaurant anymore."
Fiona smiles. "Oh?"
"I quit. To focus on my art." Sort of.
Fiona nods like she understands. "It was the same when I started my clothing line. I had to leave my purchasing job at Saks."
Meryl smiles at her daughter. "I'm sure you could help Kat. Teach her about running her own business."
"I don't know anything about art." She offers me a remorseful smile.
I can't really get a read on her. Does she actually want to help me? Or is she reveling in being withholding?
Everything falls from Fiona's expression as Trey's phone rings.
He nods to his cell. "Excuse me."
She fights her frown, but she doesn't quite get there. She watches her husband leave the room like he's taking her heart with him.
