Page 9 of What Is Love
Arranged marriages weren’t unheard of when it came to connecting two wealthy families.
“Charlotte?” Mother said with a slight tone.
Clay’s hand moved up my thigh until his fingers slipped underneath the hem of my dress. That move shocked my lungs back to life and I struggled to make myself breathe normally. I nodded. “Yes.”
At my answer, the next course of our meal was brought out.
Sharon beamed, letting her excitement show for her son. Her baby boy was getting what he wanted.
Bill began asking Brandon questions like where the party was and who was going to be there.
Mother insisted that he should be the one to bring me home and not to worry about a curfew.
As they talked around me, I sat there wanting to scream.
Clay’s hand moved up even farther. When it was fully under the skirt of my dress and a finger grazed my underwear, I shot up from my chair. Everyone went quiet, eyes all on me.
“Please excuse me,” I said before leaving the table. On my way out of the room, I quietly asked one of the house staff where the restroom was. They led me to one. As soon as I shut the door and turned on the light in the tiny room, I just stood there in front of the vanity and tried not to hyperventilate.
Chapter Three
I was barelyin the bathroom for a minute before there was a knock on the door. Since entering, I’d rested my hands on the counter around the sink with my fingers curled around the edge. I couldn’t help but squeeze the cool marble. My body didn’t want to move to answer the door. I wondered if I pretended not to hear whoever had knocked, they’d go away.
Another knock came, making me close my eyes in defeat.
“One moment,” I forced out. It took more effort than it should have to go over to the toilet I hadn’t used and flush it. I returned to the sink to wash my hands quickly.
The moment I cracked the door, it was shoved open fully and I came face to face with Mother. She crowded me, making me walk backward, farther into the bathroom. I was so startled at first that it wasn’t until she shut the door with a gentle silence that a sinking feeling of dread bloomed in my stomach.
At the sound of the lock turning in place, she faced me. Her eyes, which were so different from mine, were angry. She reached for me. I flinched but managed to clamp my mouth closed on a little yelp that had been trying to make its way up my throat. I knew that if I drew any sort of attention, I would be punished way worse than what was to come.
She grabbed my upper arm tight enough to bruise and brought her angry face close to mine. “Are you trying to embarrass me?” Her voice was low and seething.
I shook my head quickly.
Her nails dug into my arm as she shook me hard enough to make my neck jerk. “You can’t do anything right.”
I tensed up at the pain in my arm and hissed out, “I’m sorry.”
“You’re so pathetic. I can’t rely on you for anything.”
“I’ll do better.” My words were a promise as much as a plea.
“I can’t believe you’ve turned him down before,” she growled. “And then you hesitated when he asked you out again.”
“I—”
Her other hand shot up to grab my mouth and chin, stopping me from speaking. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. You will go out with him tonight and be the perfect date. I better not hear that you did anything to give him any doubt that you want to be with him. Am I understood?”
I nodded the best I could against her strong grasp.
Her hands dropped away from my face and arm. She turned toward the bathroom mirror to look herself over. I only glanced at myself for a moment. I was red all around the sides of my mouth down to my chin.
As she tucked away a stray hair, her eyes met mine through the mirror. “Find your purse and fix yourself up before returning to the dining room.”
She didn’t wait around for me to agree. She just walked out, expecting me to do as I was told.
I was not dressedto go to a party. Pearls and white lace were going to stand out among the kegs and Solo cups. Beforelearning about dinner at the Carmichaels’, I hadn’t planned on going to Tristen’s stupid party tonight. Yet here I was, in Brandon Carmichael’s red Porsche Cayman. The inside smelled like his cologne. It was so strong I could taste it. It wasn’t a bad scent. It was warm and spicy. Maybe a little too much of both. I had a feeling I was going to get a headache if I had to inhale it much longer. When we pulled onto Tristen’s street, I was a little relieved.
