Page 106 of Waiting for Acceptance
I’m going to throw up.
“This is where you grew up?” Fitz stares at the massive house we’re parked in front of, then looks over at me in surprise.
“Yep.” I pop the p, trying not to pass out due to my anxiety.
“I don’t understand…”
I open my door, stepping out onto the gravel drive, as he does the same. “You will.” We walk up to the front door and I ring the bell. I can feel his eyes on me, but force myself not to give in and look at him. My mother swings the door open, looking me up and down before a smile finally forms on her face.
“Lauren,” she practically sings in delight.
“Mother.” I smile and her gaze moves to Fitz.
“And you are?”Ugh.
“Mom, this is Fitz. Fitz, this is my mother.” My mom holds her hand out and Fitz shakes it.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Long.”
My mom smiles brightly at him. “You can call me Anna, Mrs. Long makes me sound ancient.”
Fitz smiles and nods in agreement. “Of course.”
“So, are we having dinner on the front porch, or can we come inside?” I ask as the smell of whatever dinner has been prepared finds its way outside.
“Of course we’re not, don’t be ridiculous.” Mother turns around, leading the way to the dining room, expecting us to follow her. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to brace myself for the night ahead. Fitz closes the door behind us and I hang my purse on one of the hooks in the entryway, taking his hand as we walk to the dining room.
“John, Lauren and herboyfriendare here.” I roll my eyes at her tone, feeling Fitz squeeze my hand. My dad enters the room a moment later, walking straight over to us.
“John Long.” He holds his hand out and Fitz shakes it firmly.
“Vincent Fitzgerald. Pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh, Vincent. What a lovely name. Why did you introduce him as Fitz?” My mother looks at me questioningly and my teeth grind together.
“Because that’s what he goes by.” My father nods and turns his attention back to Fitz.
“So,what is it you do, Fitz?”
Here we go.
I hear that same tone from him as I heard from my mother earlier and I start to question why on earth I ever agreed to this.
“I own a skateboard shop.” I almost choke at his response, looking up to see him wink at me.
“You do?” The absolute horror in my mother’s voice brings me joy.
“Oh yeah. I’ve owned it for about five years now.” My father looks at me, desperate for the punchline.
“It’s a joke, guys. Calm down.” I assure them, seeing them both physically relax.
Fitz clears his throat, shoving his hands into his front pockets casually. “Sorry about that, I couldn’t resist. I’m actually in real estate, same as Lauren.”
“Oh, well. That’s fine.” My father’s tone drops and I scoff.
My father gives me a scolding glare and I feel myself emotionally shrink while wishing I had the ability tophysicallyshrink. I look at Fitz apologetically and he turns back to my father.
“Actually, my father owns The Fitzgerald Firm in New York, maybe you’ve heard of it?”
