Page 94 of Fairy Tale Lies
At a loss, he closed his arms around her. “You know Trisha doesn’t care about me. She only wants to start trouble.”
“I see the way her gaze eats you up. She wants more than trouble.”
“Whatever. I could care less what she thinks or feels,” Jacob growled. “The past is the past. We are each other’s present.”
Greta pulled back, and the regret in her eyes killed him, but it wouldn’t change what was disintegrating between them.
“You’re right. I overreacted. Please forgive me?” she asked again.
He couldn’t answer honestly, so he kissed her. It tasted more of desperation than forgiveness.
Greta either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She cupped the back of his neck, bringing him closer. A disapproving cough echoed down the hall, and she spun, stepping from his hold. Her absence felt permanent.
Nigel stood right outside the dining hall. “Our old neighbors, the Turners, are asking after you. They were also hoping to meet Jacob. Would you both mind coming back in?” He went back inside without waiting for an answer.
Greta looked at Jacob. “Ready?”
To leave? Yes. Meet friends of Sophia and Nigel? No.
He gave a tight-lipped smile and motioned for her to follow Nigel. She took his hand, and they went back inside.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Everything grated on Jacob’s nerves. The tinkling laughter sounded like jackals. The low warble of the string quartet skittered along his eardrums. Following Nigel back inside the ballroom had been a mistake. The argument with Greta was too raw. Jacob needed time to decompress, find his civility.
Nigel stopped in front of a crotchety, wizened couple, and Jacob understood what the introduction was about—reinforcing his outsider status. The two seniors studied him with thin, pinched lips and disapproving eyes. He hadn’t even opened his mouth, and he already failed their test.
Great. First, I’m doused with distrust, and now it’ll be disgust. Fuck.
Greta let go of Jacob’s hand and gave the couple each a brief hug before introducing him. “Mr. and Mrs. Turner, this is my boyfriend, Jacob Grimm.” She sounded meek and mollifying, like she was apologizing.
Mrs. Turner nodded, not offering her hand. Mrs. Turner nodded, not offering her hand. Instead, she clutched her purse as if afraid he was going to snatch it and run.
Her husband took Jacob’s offered hand and even managed not to wipe it on his trousers afterward. Then he spoke and ruined the moment. “Yes, we’ve heard of you,” Turner rasped, full of false jocularity. “The Silverstones are helping you, right? Making you a respectable businessman.”
“Excuse me?” Jacob sputtered, confused and stunned at the man’s blatant assholery.
“No. Sophie’s ex-husband is helping him, not us,” Nigel cut in.
“Yes, how fortunate for him.” Turner’s blue rheumy eyes peered from Greta to Jacob.
Greta appeared shocked but, of course, remained silent.
Her acceptance gutted him.
“Okay. Fuck it. I’m done.” Jacob raised his hands in surrender. “I’d like to say it has been a pleasure, but since we’re all being so upfront, I’ll be honest; the only pleasure I’ve had in this short conversation is right now, leaving this shit-ass party.”
“I never, such coarse talk—” the old man sputtered, pointing a crooked finger at Jacob. “Now, you have the nerve to come here and dirty the place with your language. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised with the likes of you.”
Greta gasped, andstill, she remained silent.
Jacob glanced at the index finger inches from his chest and had to resist the urge to knock it away. “You know nothing of me or my kind, you pretentious asshole. Maybe it’s difficult to see way up there on your high horse, but my successes are from hard work, not favors or connections.”
He glared at Nigel, knowing damn well Greta’s stepfather helped along the Turners’ opinion of him. “Can you say the same, Nigel?”
The other man’s face reddened. Jacob didn’t wait for a reply. He needed to get away from this place and these people. He gave them his back then headed toward the exit.
~ * ~
