Page 53 of Beautifully Used
“I don’t have any intention of moving.”
“You can’t be serious. What is it about this house, this tiny town that is so alluring? I hope it’s not that… that guy.”
By “that guy,” I assumed she meant Brodie. And now we were back to the very reason I hadn’t introduced Brodie as my boyfriend. My mother wanted me to marry some snobby, wealthy NBC executive who would no doubt cheat on me with every new actress in Hollywood. There were several that came to mind who’d been to the house for the specific reason of meeting me. It always infuriated my mother when I never showed interest in any of them.
I shrugged, unable to hide my feelings for Brodie. I’d spared him the humiliation she would ensue upon him, but since he wasn’t here now to receive any of her snide remarks, I blurted out, “Yes. ‘that guy’ as you called him means everything to me. This is my life, not yours. It’s my choice what work I do, as well as who I make my life with.”
She stood, holding her purse in her hands in front of her, her lips pressed firmly together. “Gabby, I want you to come to dinner next week. I’ll send a car.”
“Why?”
“I have some friends coming, I’d like you to meet them.”
I knew my mother, and when she said she had friends coming over and wanted me present, it meant a young, usually handsome, wealthy country-club bachelor. One who spent most of his spare time on the golf course, making the next deal of the century, and who would no doubt bore me to tears about how he’d made his fortune or inherited it. Most of them usually turned out to be even bigger snobs than my mother.
“Did you not hear what I just said? I don’t want to meet your friends. I am happy here. Brodie is my choice. I love him. You’re just going to have to accept that.”
“For God’s sake, Gabby, you know very well what I had to go through after your father died and left us penniless.”
“Don’t talk about him that way.” My dad may not have been the wealthiest man, but he’d loved me. I’ll never forget what he’d told me when I was little. He’d told me to always be myself and never compromise my beliefs and dreams to please someone else. I hadn’t realized until that very moment that he’d probably been talking about my mother.
“I know you loved him, but I had to scrape and save every penny I made just so you could have new shoes to wear, or a new dress for school.”
I’d never considered our living situations to be as awful as she made them sound. We’d always had a decent place to live. True, she’d had to go to work after my dad died, leaving me with the neighbors, but I didn’t think that was so unusual. Tons of kids got dropped off at day care centers and neighbors while their moms went to work. Granted, most of those places didn’t have a Thomas, but that wasn’t her fault, and there was no point in telling her now.
She went on with her self-important drivel, “We were very fortunate when Kurt came into our lives. I only want what’s best for you. I don’t want you to suffer the way I did.”
At that point, I’d had enough. “I think your time is up. Please leave.”
She sighed, then shook her head. She reached out to stroke my cheek with her finger, but I flinched away before she could touch me. “Someday you’ll understand, Gabby.” She turned and walked out the door and strolled down to the car. I watched as the driver let her in the back seat and then got back in himself before they pulled away from the curb.
Relief filled me as I shut the door, then panic set in. “Oh my God. Brodie!” He had to be furious with me. I quickly found my cell phone and called him, hoping he would understand why I hadn’t told her who he was to me, but it went straight to voicemail.
Chapter 43
Brodie
* * *
Upon entering the bar, I was surprised to find it so crowded. Wednesday nights weren’t usually busy, and there was nothing special happening. It looked as if I had arrived just in time. Derrick was behind the bar by himself, juggling beers and mixing drinks while Alison, one of the weeknight waitresses, called out another drink order. I wasn’t in the mood to socialize, but thought maybe the busy work would help take my mind off of Gabrielle and her mother, so I grabbed an apron and put it on. “Why all the people?” I asked Derrick.
He shrugged, giving me a huge smile and proceeded to deliver the two drinks he carried in his hands to a couple of guys at the other end of the bar.
He came back toward me. “Why are you here? I thought you’d be home with Gabby.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” He gave me a bemused glance. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Might say that.” I didn’t want to go into detail about how awkward it had been meeting Gabrielle’s wealthy mother, or the fact that Gabrielle obviously didn’t want her to know we were in a relationship. I busied myself filling some beers and mixing drinks. I wondered how long Gabrielle’s mother would be there. I felt foolish leaving my own house, and I wanted to go home. I was tired after working all day and coming back, only to work twice as hard. I’d been helping Derrick out for the past thirty minutes or so and the freaky rush was slowly dwindling down. My phone buzzed. I took it out of my pocket and glanced at the display. It was Gabrielle. I pushed the button sending it straight to voicemail. I wasn’t ready to talk to her yet. I shoved the phone back into my pocket and waited on another guy.
As I placed a fresh drink down in front of another customer, my heart skipped a beat when I noticed Jeff’s face back in the corner. He was sitting with a group of guys. Soccer pals, no doubt, since they were all dressed like they’d just come from practice. He may be part of that team, and this was where they always came after practices and games, but he still wasn’t welcome here and he knew it. I couldn’t let the harassing phone calls to Gabrielle go without at least calling the bastard out. I threw down my bar rag and started to come out from behind the bar. I wanted him gone. I had no sooner stepped out from behind the bar than the heavy doors opened and two cops strolled in and looked around, stopping me in my tracks. They headed to the one and only empty table and ordered coffee. So much for my wanting to pound the snot out of Jeff. It would have to wait for another time.
I wanted to let Gabrielle know that I had seen him, but then I remembered how she considered me to be such an embarrassment that she couldn’t even introduce me to her mother properly. I wanted to puke.
I headed toward the bar to grab my keys I’d placed under the counter. I was done playing the dejected, run-out-of-the-house-with-my-tail-between-my-legs puppy dog. I didn’t care what her mother thought of me. I would claim my woman, and if her mother didn’t accept me, then… shit. I stopped at the door. Gabrielle would support me, right? But she hadn’t. Damn it. Come to think of it, I was still pissed off, and I didn’t want to talk to her. My news about Jeff no longer important, I went back to work helping Derrick. I probably stayed longer than I should have, but I wasn’t ready to go home yet.
“How about another?” I asked one of the guys sitting at the bar as he stared at his empty bottle. He glanced up at me and nodded. I’d just pulled out a bottle of Bud Light to replace the empty one when my phone rang. I placed the bottle on the counter and pulled my phone out of my pocket. It was Gabrielle. I debated letting it go to voicemail again, but what the hell. I wanted to hear what she had to say. “Hello?”
“Brodie?”
