Page 76 of Doc Showmance
“She’s dating you. Of course, I had her past looked into. You got arrested for assault, didn’t you, Amber?”
“It’s doesn’t matter. I’m sure it was a misunderstanding,” Ian said.
Relief whooshed through me at the fact he trusted that I wasn’t a criminal.
I really didn’t want to talk about that episode in my life. Not here. Mrs. Todd was going to push it, though. “Did you get the rest of the story? The part about the charges being dropped within an hour of me being accused?”
“Sounds like you beat some guy up. Just like my poor Brock. Look at my son’s face.”
“I did that, Mom, not Amber. Did Brock tell you why I decked him?” Ian asked. “Why he deserved it?”
Mrs. Todd set down her wine glass so hard that the liquid almost sloshed over the side.
“Honey, calm down,” Mr. Todd chimed in. He seemed more focused on the soup that had arrived in front of him than his wife. He didn’t seem distressed about his younger son.
“Brock hit on my girlfriend and was a total dick to her,” Ian said.
“Language, Ian,” his mom chided. “She has a record and is obviously rubbing off in a bad way on you. I won’t tolerate it.”
“You’re going too far, Mom,” Ian warned.
With a sigh, I set down my wineglass and directly eyed the woman. “This really isn’t any of your business. The charges were made in error. I have no criminal record. Was I caught speeding a few times? Yes. But who hasn’t at least once or twice. That’ the my only crimeon the record.”
“Looked like the guy was in rough shape after you beat him up,” Mrs. Todd pressed.
I was tempted to let them believe the worst and leave it at that, but I didn’t want Ian thinking me a criminal. With as much calm as I could manage I asked, “Did you find out what happened? That it was done in self-defense?” I didn’t wait for her to reply as impatience took over. “I’m going to assume you didn’t care to find out. That guy had been stalking me for months, sending me weird notes and hang-up phone calls, but the police couldn’t do much with that. One night he broke into my house when I was alone. If I hadn’t fought him…” I could barely talk about this. On a whisper I added, “I knew I’d die.”
“Why charge you for assault, then?”
God, this woman. I gripped my hands together tight in my lap. “A neighbor called in a disturbance. The police bandaged me up and took us both in. I got cleared and charges dropped because it turns out the friend of mine who installed my home security system rightfully convinced me to put cameras inside and outside my house. Got the whole thing recorded. Does it make you feel better about yourself to remind me of the worst few hours of my entire life? Have you ever had someone mentally unstable try to kill you in your own house?”
Ian put his hand over my clasped ones, but it wasn’t to get me to wind down. His look was fully supportive. Didn’t that just make me melt a bit toward him?
I said, “Ian, they wouldn’t care if I was Mother Theresa. They want to find something wrong with me because I wasn’t born with a billionaire daddy and didn’t attend the right schools. Did you talk to your father yet? I’m thinking we get out in the air now the details of whatever surgery he’s having and leave.”
“What surgery are you having, Dad?” Ian asked.
The patriarch, who’d been mostly close-lipped during the entire dinner, glanced up. “Surgery?”
“The only reason I’m here is because Mom said you’re having some sort of life-threatening procedure. What kind of surgery?”
“I’m getting a cyst removed on Tuesday but nothing more than that.”
“Uh-huh.” Ian glared at his mother. He pushed his chair back, which made a grinding scrape along the floor. “Amber and I are leaving. We’re not coming back. This whole production from yesterday to today is… It’s embarrassing. Maya and I are not getting back together, Mom. She can tell you why.”
“She misses you, Ian,” his mother said.
“She’s sitting right there.” He pointed at her. “I don’t hear her speaking up to say she misses me. I don’t miss a single thing about her. She screwed Brock on my sofa while I was out of town. I caught them when I came home early.”
“What?” Mrs. Todd asked. She didn’t come off as outraged as she should’ve been.
Brock didn’t even look guilty. What a jerk.
Ian addressed his father. “I hope your procedure goes well.”
“You leave, and you better not come sniveling back to me when you’re broke,” his father said.
“I don’t need your handouts. In case you forgot, I haven’t needed them since I moved out.”
