Page 87 of Serving the Couturier

Despite being lucky enough to secure a flight straight away, I couldn’t even summon the energy to feel grateful. Instead, I simply sat in my seat and stared blankly at the in-flight movies. It wasn’t until the announcement came we were approaching our destination that I finally started thinking about what would happen next.

During a layover in Boston, I sent a text to my parents, telling them I was coming to San Ramon and asking them to pick me up. I didn’t give them any details, and because I told them I would be back in the air soon, they didn’t ask. Now that the plane was about to land, I had to decide what I would tell them, starting with why I was in California instead of New York.

As soon as I stepped out of the airport, I saw my parents’ car, and before I could take a few steps, my father was there, trying to conceal his concern.

“Hi there, honey.”

“Hi, Da.” I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to cry.

He hugged me, and I pressed my face against his chest, taking comfort in his familiar scent. I couldn’t linger long, but I allowed myself a few precious moments before stepping back.

“Let me take your bags, and you go say hello to your mom.”

I nodded and got into the back seat of the car, leaning forward to kiss my mother’s cheek.

“Hello, sweetheart.” She turned to look at me. “It’s good to see you.”

I could see the questions in her eyes, but she didn’t ask them. This was yet another reason I loved my parents; they always gave me the space and time I needed to work things out.

I waited until we were out of the airport traffic before asking, “Da, have you heard of a Raynard York in England? A baron?”

Da thought for a minute before answering, “No, I don’t think so.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Isn’t York your boyfriend’s last name?”

My stomach tightened at his words. “Raynard was Spencer’s father.”

“Your boyfriend is a baron?” Mom asked, her voice sharp.

“It was a surprise to me too,” I said. “I didn’t find out until the funeral service. Spencer inherited the title.”

“He lied to you?” Mom’s voice was stern.

“He didn’t lie about it, but he didn’t mention it either.” I shook my head. “He warned me that his family was particular, but even if he had been more specific, I never would have guessed.”

I sighed, knowing there was no easy way to say what I needed to say. I rubbed my forehead as my parents waited for me to find the words.

“Spencer has responsibilities in England, duties to his family. He has a place there, not here,” I said, bracing myself for the revelation that would make this more than just a breakup. “And I’m pregnant.”

For several seconds, neither of my parents reacted. Then Mom partially turned towards me, her eyes filled with various emotions. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, unable to speak just yet.

“What did he say?” Da asked, anger clear in his voice. “What did Spencer York say when you told him?”

“I haven’t,” I said.

Mom’s eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t tell him?”

My guilt made me defensive, even though I didn’t hear a hint of judgment in her tone. “I just found out this morning.”

“Sweetie, I know you,” Mom said. “You don’t run away just because something’s unpleasant or hard. What made you come here before even talking to him? Did he hurt you?”

“No,” I blurted. “Never.”

“Then what happened?”

“It was his grandmother,” I said with a sigh. “Opal York Masters or something like that.”

“Opal Masters?” Da glanced back at me. “That’s a name I know.”

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