Page 96 of Renegade Roomie

My jaw drops. “Uh, sure,” I manage.

The bartender saunters over, and I gratefully order a glass of whiskey. I’m tempted to order the entire bottle, but figure Zelda thinks poorly enough of me as it is, without adding to her list of my sins.

“And another for me,” Zelda announces, and my curiosity grows. She waits until the drinks are in front of us, before turning to me again. “I have to admit, I was expecting to hear from you before now. Charm, groveling, your usual pleading to reinstate your funds.”

I take a gulp of whiskey. “Well, as it turns out, I don’t need them.”

She blinks.

“I know, I was surprised, too,” I tell her dryly. “But it turns out, I am capable of supporting myself. The bars generate decent cash flow, and throwing all my extra money into investments and backing new businesses hasn’t worked out too badly.” I shrug. “So, if you want to try and force me into living life according to your rules, I’m afraid you’re going to have to pick a new weapon.”

Zelda pauses. “I suppose I deserve that.”

I sigh, putting my glass down. “Look, I don’t want to fight. I’m sorry for lying to you,” I tell her, “I really am, that’s the truth, but… You’re the one who couldn’t just accept me living on my own schedule. You pushed me, to settle down, to live the kind of life you wanted. Yes, putting on the act with Callie was wrong, I’ll admit that. But trying to use my trust to force me into wedded bliss? That was a shitty thing to do, too.” I tell her.

“Perhaps,” Zelda inclines her head about half an inch, which is about as much acknowledgment as I’m going to get. “But lying to me like that… To your sister, too. I knew you were… Creative, sometimes, when it came to the details of your life.” She adds. “No parent, or grandparent, expects to hear the whole unvarnished truth, but I never expected a betrayal of this magnitude. For you to spin such a story, and then keep adding to it, too…” she trails off.

I wince. “I know. I’m sorry. It was just supposed to be a little white lie for the weekend, but things got out of control. I was just trying to make you happy,” I add. “You’re so set on me being this stable, responsible guy. And I am, but in my own way. I have my friends, the bars, my companies… But that’s never been good enough for you,” I point out.

“But it is.” Zelda says, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m proud of you, Dash, and everything you’re achieved.”

“Then you have a funny way of showing it,” I say, remembering her jokes at the gala—and how Callie was the one to step up and defend me.

She sighs regretfully. “Then I do owe you an apology, too. For ever making you feel like you aren’t good enough.”

“You owe Callie an apology, too,” I can’t help saying.

“For her lies?” Zelda looks disapproving.

“For implying she was a common, no-good gold digger more than a few times,” I remind her.

“Ah. That.” Zelda lets out a long sigh, then takes a long sip of her drink. “I suppose I made rather a mess of this, didn’t I?”

“Hey, join the club.” I raise my whiskey in a toast, and she taps her glass to mine.

“The truth is, wanting you to settle down isn’t about social connections, or what’s appropriate. I couldn’t give two hoots about that.”

“Then what…?” I ask.

Zelda gives me a fond smile. “I want you to find a real partner, the way I had with my dear Phin. Someone to support you, someone to demand you step up and be present for them, for all the good times and bad. An adventure, together.”

Fuck. There goes that dagger in my chest again.

“And contrary to how it may have seemed when I first met Callie,” Zelda continues, “Seeing the two of you together, I thought that partner might have been her.”

OK, now she’s really twisting the knife.

But Zelda doesn’t seem to realize. She gives a rueful smile. “I know it might seem old-fashioned, and maybe it is. I was married at twenty. But when I look at you, out with a new woman every week, I just worry…” she pauses. “With your parents dying so young, I wonder if you don’t keep people at arm’s length sometimes. Stop yourself from getting too serious, or caring too much, just so you don’t risk losing anyone you love again.”

I’ve barely had time to process that before she adds,

“I thought that with a little incentive, I might force you to move past that fear. It was wrong of me, obviously. So I apologize, too.”

“So…” she continues, clearing her throat. “How is Callie doing these days?”

“I… Don’t know. I haven’t heard from her,” I admit, pained. “Not since that whole proposal scene.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She pauses, and I can almost see her biting her tongue.

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