Page 8 of My Fault
I walked behind him, trying to convince myself that it wasn’t worth it to get angry over his remarks or the way he looked at me or just the fact of his being there. He was one of many people who were destined to get on my nerves in this city, so I might as well get used to it.
Once I was downstairs, I found myself surprised again at the magnificence of the house. It felt somehow old but at the same time sophisticated and modern. Waiting for my mother, ignoring the person next to me, I looked at the crystal lamp hanging between the beams in the ceiling. It must have been made of thousands of pieces of glass that seemed to fall like frozen raindrops, as though wanting to reach the ground but forced to linger in the air for who knew how long.
Our eyes met briefly, but instead of looking away myself, I decided to try to make him do it instead. I didn’t want him to think he was getting to me, that he could just treat me as he liked.
But his eyes didn’t budge. He was observing me with unbelievable determination. Right when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, my mother appeared with William.
“Well, the gang’s all here,” he said, looking at us and smirking. For me, the occasion was utterly joyless. “I’ve reserved a table at the club. I hope you all are hungry.” He headed for the door with my mother hanging off his arm.
Mom’s eyes turned to saucers when she saw my dress.
“What are you wearing?” she whispered in my ear.
I pretended not to listen and walked outside. The air was warm and refreshing, and I could hear the waves in the distance breaking against the shore.
“You want to ride with us, Nick?” William asked his son.
But he had already turned his back and was walking toward an immaculate black 4x4 that stood high off the ground. It must have just come from the dealership. I rolled my eyes. Typical!
“I’ll take mine,” he said, turning around as he opened the door. “I’m hanging out with Miles after dinner. We’re going to finish the report on the Refford case.”
“Excellent,” his father said. I had no idea what they were talking about. “Maybe you want to ride with him to the club,Noah? That way you can get to know each other a little better?” William seemed to think he’d just had the most brilliant idea ever.
I looked over at Nick, who had raised an eyebrow waiting for my response. He seemed to think the whole situation was funny.
“I don’t want to ride with someone if I don’t know how they drive,” I said to my new stepfather, hoping that would hit his son where it hurt. Most guys don’t appreciate the implication that they can’t drive. Turning away from the SUV, I got into Will’s black Mercedes, enjoying the solitude of the back seat as we crisscrossed streets on our way to some rich guys’ club.
All I wanted was for the night to end as soon as possible, to finish this happy family act that my mother and her husband were trying to create, and to go back to my room to try to rest.
Fifteen minutes later, we entered a kind of suburb with big, well-groomed yards. It was night, but I could read the brightly lit sign by the road welcoming us to the Mary Read Yacht Club. Before letting us through, a guard in a fancy cabin next to a gate peeked out to see who was in the car. It was evident he recognized the driver.
“Mr. Leister, good evening. Miss,” he added, turning to my mother.
My new stepfather said hello to the guard, and we entered the club.
“Noah, your member’s card will be here next week, but if you need in before then, just say my name or Ella’s,” he said, looking over at my mother.
It felt like a jab in the heart when I heard him call her that. That had been my father’s name for her, and I was sure my mother didn’t care for it at all—too many bad memories. But how was she going to tell her wonderful new husband that?
My mother was a pro at forgetting things that were sad or difficult. Whereas I kept them inside, deep inside, until they all finally exploded and came out.
We stopped the car right at the door to the luxurious establishment. A valet let my mother and me out, took a tip from William, and drove the car off to who knows where.
The restaurant was amazing. Everything seemed made of glass. I could see a couple of tables from where I stood, along with huge aquariums full of crabs, fish, and squid waiting to be killed and served. I felt someone behind me, a breath on my ear that gave me the shivers. When I turned, I saw Nicholas. Even with my heels on, he was half a head taller than me. He barely even looked at me.
“I’ve got a reservation under the name William Leister,” William said to the hostess. For some strange reason, her expression changed, and she hurried to led us through the dining room, which was at once packed, calm, and cozy.
Our table was in one of the best spots, with the same warm candlelight that prevailed all over the restaurant. The glass wall gave an impressive view of the ocean. I wondered if those kinds of transparent walls were common in California.
I was freaking out, to tell the truth.
We sat down, and right away my mother and William started chatting and smiling like infatuated fools. In the meantime, I noticed the astonished, incredulous look the waitress gave Nick.
He didn’t seem to realize it. He just toyed with the tiny salt shaker. His hands were very well cared for, tan, and big. I looked from them to his arms until I reached his face, and I noticed that his eyes were looking at me with interest. I held my breath.
“What are you going to order?” my mother asked, breaking the spell.
I let them pick for me, since I didn’t know what half the dishes on the menu were anyway. While we waited and I stirred my iced tea, distracted, William tried to drag his son and me into a conversation.
