Page 110 of The Invitation
“I start my new job next week. It was supposed to be two weeks out, but I accepted their offer, and they emailed me back asking if I could start sooner. So I need to get a few things to the dry cleaner, clean my house. Stuff like that.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh.” I laugh. “I was assuming I could see you tonight.”
“Thank God. And then you can tell me more about this amazing job.”
His relief makes me smile. “You bet.”
We turn onto my driveway, and Ripley puts the car in park. I lean over the console to kiss him and gasp.
Oh, no. Please, no.
I fall back into my seat, fumbling with my seat belt.
“What? What is it?” Ripley asks, his brows pulled together. “You’re scaring the shit out of me.”
I force a swallow and try not to cry.This is not how this was supposed to happen.
“My mother’s sitting on the steps,” I say, my voice eerily calm.
“And why would she be sitting on the steps?”
“Because I won’t give her a key. She just shows up when she wants to hang out or talk, which is fine, except … it’s not.”
He takes a deep breath. “What do you want to do?”
I glance at the porch. My mother stands and makes her way slowly to the car. It’s as if she senses something is wrong.
My heart races. My brain screams that this is the time to choose flight, but I know I can’t do that.Not to Ripley. It’s too late to try to hide it now. All I can do is be thankful Ripley has some context before all hell hits the fan.
“I have no idea what she’s going to do or say,” I say quickly. “Please, please don’t judge me for whatever happens.”
“Of course not.”
“Let’s just say hello and pray she doesn’t completely lose her shit.”Even though I know she will.
I open the door and Ripley opens his moments later. I hear his shut right after mine.
“Georgia?” Mom asks, holding a frozen pizza and a bottle of wine in her hands. “What’s going on?” She turns to Ripley. “Who is this?”
She looks Ripley up and down. It’s harmless, at first. But, upon her second pass, a cold shield slides over her face.
Fuck.
“Remember how I told you I was working with Sutton?” I ask, my voice too bright. “Well, it’s for a fake-dating show called The Invitation. We’re shooting the pilot. This is my … counterpart.”
She lifts her chin at Ripley. “Hello. I’m Felicity Hayes. And you are …”
“Ripley Brewer, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The pizza box slides from my mother’s hand and hits the ground. Her face goes from shock to absolute fury in a half a second. She glares at him before turning to me.
“How dare you?” she says, her voice bone cold.
“Mom, listen?—”
“RipleyBrewer?” She spins back around to him. “Who is your father?”
