Page 66 of UnLucky Christmas
“Hello, Whitney. It’s a pleasure,” Bill says, with a proper British accent.
I let out a gasp when I hear him speak.I mean who doesn’t love an accent?
“Oh, you’re British?” I exclaim without thinking.
“Guilty.”
“Bill grew up outside of London,” my mother brags. “He’s traveled all over the globe. You should hear some of his stories.”
“That’s exciting,” I say. Obviously, my mother is impressed by this.
“I’ll get the drinks,” Bill says, eyeing my coffee cup. “Would you like anything else, Whitney?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
As soon as Bill walks away, my mom asks what I think of him.
“I like his accent,” I reply. What else does she expect me to say? It’s not like I’ve had a chance to talk to him yet.
“Do you think he’s hot?”
What the hell?Did she really just ask me that?
“Mom.”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sure you think he’s just another old guy.”
I shake my head in frustration. “Not only that, but you also just split from Dad. Give me a minute to process.”
“I know, I know.”
I’m trying to remember that Ben said my parents were unhappy for years. I can tell my mother is happy now, but I didn’t see the same emotion from my father when I was at his condo the other night.
Bill returns with two cups of coffee and a variety of pastries. He immediately begins asking me questions about myself, and I answer them. He seems perfectly polite and nice, but it’s still awkward.
“Bill is a chef,” my mom tells me. “He’s graciously offered to make a few dishes for Christmas Eve dinner.”
I feel a stab in my chest.
“Great,” I say forcing a smile.
“I’m happy to do it,” Bill adds
“Have you met Ben and Emme yet?” I ask.
“We’re meeting up with them on Friday,” Mom says. “You’re welcome to join us. Bill suggested a wonderful new restaurant.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know,” I reply.That’s a big no for me.
“I never had any children,” Bill continues. He places his hand on my mother’s. “My career was my life, and now I’m realizing I missed out on a lot.”
I feel my jaw tighten. It doesn’t take a genius to recognize that my mother and Bill are more than just friends. I can see it in their body language and it’s clear they want me to be okay with this.
Hopefully, they at least wait until the ink is dry on the divorce papers.
“I really should get back to work,” I say. “It was nice meeting you, Bill.”
He rises to his feet. “And you.”
