Page 91 of Dead Serious with Benefits
“Doing alright?” I asked as we walked, making sure to keep my voice low. We were behind my parents, who were behind Amelia, but not for a moment did I believe that if I weren’t careful, Amelia would hear everything we said.
“I think it would be best if you assume I am not and will not be for the remainder of the night,” Ward said with a strained smile. “And spare us both having to deal with the repetition of the same question followed by the same answer.”
That was pointed, but I didn’t let it bother me. “Would it have been better if I hadn’t included my parents?”
“Hopefully their presence will make things slightly easier,” he said. “Though I’ll admit, their presence also means that if this does go bad, it will make things even worse.”
“Well, let’s trust Matilda,” I said, squeezing Ward’s arm. “She’s been dealing with difficult people for years, including her children. She might surprise you.”
“It’s not about what your parents can or cannot handle,” he said with a twist of his mouth. “It’s about what my mother is willing to try to get away with if she so desires.”
“Well,” I said as we walked through a dimly lit hallway into a room larger than the foyer. A large table sat at the center of the room under a row of lights. It was almost plain compared to the foyer, with soft, glowing wooden floors and white walls adornedwith swirling patterns of gold that gave away the owners’ wealth but didn’t draw unnecessary attention. In fact, I was struck by the feeling that the table was meant to be the focus of the room and not the room itself. “I’ll be here with you throughout the entire night. Perhaps we’ll be able to squeeze some enjoyment out of it.”
“The round table,” he muttered as he glanced around the room. “Isn’t that interesting?”
Which made no sense, but I decided to wait as we took our seats. Ward specifically chose the seat opposite his mother, and I took the one next to him. Marcus sat next to me, and Matilda sat near him. There was room for several more people, but the chairs were arranged to be equally distant, giving each person plenty of space.
“Let me get us our drinks,” Amelia said. “Are there...any preferences or allergies I should know of?”
Matilda chuckled. “I won’t speak for Ward, but I think the rest of us would prefer to avoid anything with tequila. For one reason or another, it doesn’t agree with us.”
“Perfectly fine,” Amelia said and turned. “Just give me one moment to see what they have ready for us.”
I took the opportunity to lean over and speak to Ward. “What’s so interesting about the table?”
“It’s the round one, not the long one. So she could be trying to give the appearance that everyone is equal, but she chose the larger one. So now there’s no real ‘intimacy’ at the table, and if we want to have a conversation, we’ll have to speak loud enough to be heard by everyone. The round table is her norm for having outsiders here that aren’t a political or business meeting, but the big one for this size group?” he said.
“You’re thinking it’s because I’m here?” I wondered.
“Actually, yes. If I were to guess, I would say my mother is interested in making sure you and I cannot have any side conversations that she can’t be privy to,” he said with a snort.
“It seems our only conversation left quite an impression on her,” I said wryly. “As she doesn’t seem to trust me.”
“I don’t think she trusts the effect she’s witnessed you have on me...or what she thinks she’s witnessed anyway,” Ward said, and for the first time, he looked amused. “All these years of her begging me to find someone I could actually spend long term with, and she acts like this when someone like that comes along. It’s so very...her.”
I drew back as I heard her heels approaching and chose to say nothing. It would be easy to say that he was looking too far into her decisions and to mark it up to paranoia. Yet it could also be just as easy to believe what he was saying was true; he had dealt with her more than anyone else in this room, and there was a level of intimacy and understanding between family members that outsiders would never achieve. I thought it best to keep my thoughts to myself and let the night play out however it would.
“You’ll have to excuse the wait,” Amelia said. A small woman with a cart entered with drinks. “My normal staff aren’t here, so things will be a little slower than usual.”
I glanced at Ward, who mouthed a word that took me a moment to register as ‘strikes.’ I remembered that there had been reports of several service industries refusing to work. Taxes had increased, businesses had been pressured, the cost of living was going up, but there had been no mention of increasing wages for people who had to work more. Apparently, Amelia was as exacting and hard an employer as she was a mother, if even her personal staff was refusing to come into work.
“Oh, don’t you worry about us,” Matilda said with a laugh, thanking the small woman who handed her a drink warmly. “Weare already more than impressed with everything we’ve seen. A bit of a wait isn’t going to bother us.”
“Having six children does wonders for teaching you patience,” Marcus said, thanking the woman as she went around the table and delivered the drinks.
Mine was a simple bourbon on ice. I shot Ward a curious look, wondering if he’d said something to her about our drinks. He glanced back, his eyes falling to the drink and sighing before picking up his martini. Another glance around showed that Matilda had something pink rather than her favorite, a dirty martini, and Marcus, who was fond of fruity drinks, had a dark mixture in front of him in a short glass. So no, it wasn’t Ward’s doing, because he would have known my parents’ favorite drinks, so instead I was the one who had been given their drink of choice…and Ward.
I realized that Amelia had seen my drink the night of the gala. As far as I could remember, she hadn’t paid the slightest attention to anything on the table that night; her attention had been locked on me. Yet despite that, she had known I was drinking bourbon and had bothered to remember to serve it tonight. That was an unnerving attention to detail, and I realized why Ward was so quick to notice little things like how I drank my coffee, but only before noon, and that if I were to drink before six or seven at night, it was either a light beer or wine.
“I hope the drinks are to everyone’s liking,” Amelia said as she sat down, and I didn’t miss the way her eyes locked onto me when she spoke before drifting to my parents, smiling benignly.
Beside me, Ward twitched as he picked up his glass. Clearly, Amelia believed that her note-taking was worth attention, and I smiled back at her. “Of course, it was awfully kind of you to remember what I drank after only one conversation. You and your son are devoted to paying attention to the little things.”
It left my mouth before I could think about what I was saying, and although I could see Ward stiffen slightly, it was nothing compared to the way the expression on Amelia’s face froze. I couldn’t be sure, but I didn’t think she liked the comparison between her and Ward any more than he did. Of course, if she didn’t want that, perhaps she shouldn’t have taken such a strong hand in his raising. Children were bound to take after one of their parents more than the other, and their similarities were natural, genetic even. Still, from what Ward had told me, she had put extra effort into ensuring her values and views were instilled into him.
“He is my son after all,” she said after a brief but noticeable pause. “It’s only sensible that he would take after me.”
“Yes, sensible, and inevitable,” Ward said in a voice that was just a touch too cheery. He was by no means a dour person, but neither was he perky.
