Chương 3
Behind him, somebody dropped a fork.
My father whispered, “Mr. Hayes?”
Alexander straightened.
The room had gone so silent that I could hear the refrigerator running behind me.
My mother stared from Alexander to me and then down at our joined hands.
Vanessa was the first person whose eyes moved to the chain around my neck.
Her mouth opened.
She did not say anything.
My father took one uncertain step forward.
“Emma,” he said.
His voice had changed.
It was softer now.
Careful.
Almost respectful.
“Do you know Mr. Hayes?”
Alexander looked at me instead of answering.
That small courtesy nearly undid me.
He was giving me the choice.
For years, my family had told my story for me because correcting them took more energy than I had.
Assistant.
Difficult.
Unmarried.
Oversensitive.
Useful.
I reached beneath my sweater and pulled out the chain.
The diamond ring slid into the candlelight.
Vanessa closed her eyes briefly.
Logan said, “Holy shit.”
My mother sat down.
I unclasped the chain.
My fingers shook once, enough that Alexander noticed.
He said nothing.
I slid the ring onto my finger.
Then I looked at my father.
“Yes,” I said.
“I know him.”
My father’s gaze dropped to the ring as if it were a document he had been handed without time to prepare.
Then he looked at Alexander again.
“I had no idea.”
Alexander’s thumb moved once across the back of my hand.
“That seems to be a recurring theme.”
My mother stood so abruptly that her chair tipped backward into the wall.
“Emma, why would you hide something like this from us?”
There it was.
Not congratulations.
Not surprise.
An accusation.
I felt Alexander’s hand tighten slightly around mine, but he stayed silent.
“I didn’t hide it from you,” I said.
“You never asked.”
“That is ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Of course it is.”
She looked around the room, perhaps hoping someone would rescue her from having to answer.
Nobody did.
Vanessa stared down at the gravy boat in front of her.
Logan had stopped pretending not to listen.
My aunt Claire took a very small sip of wine.
My father recovered first.
He stepped around the table and extended his hand toward Alexander with the stiff formality of a man entering a negotiation.
“Alexander Hayes.”
He said the name as though confirming an identification.
“It’s an honor.”
Alexander looked at the offered hand.
Then he took it.
“Richard.”
My father blinked at the use of his first name.
“I’ve been trying to get fifteen minutes on your calendar for months.”
“I’m aware.”
A faint flush climbed my father’s neck.
“Well, this is certainly an unexpected way for us to meet.”
Alexander’s expression did not change.
“For me too.”
My mother bent to pick up her fallen chair.
Vanessa stood and helped her.
Neither woman spoke.
I could feel twenty-three different versions of the evening being rewritten in real time.
My cousin Daniel finally put his phone face down.
My uncle Peter quietly moved his wine away from his elbow.
Even the children had noticed that something important was happening.
Sophie whispered to her brother, “Who is that?”
Her brother shrugged.
“He looks like Batman.”
Vanessa made a strangled sound that might have been a laugh.
It broke the room just enough for everyone to breathe.
Alexander glanced at the boy.
“I’ve been called worse.”
That earned an actual laugh from Logan.
My mother did not laugh.
She was still staring at the ring.
“When were you planning to tell us?”
I looked at her.
“I hadn’t decided.”
“You hadn’t decided.”
“No.”
“We’re your family.”
The words came out wounded.
For a second, they worked on me.
They always had.
Family was my mother’s favorite lever because she knew exactly where to place it.
I had skipped classes because family needed me.
I had worked Christmas Eve because family needed money.
I had loaned Logan eight thousand dollars after his first business failed because family did not keep score.
I had spent an entire weekend painting Vanessa’s nursery three weeks before her due date because family showed up.
Family, apparently, did not have to make room for me at dinner.
Alexander looked at me.
Not at my mother.
At me.
I understood the question in his face.
Do you want to leave?
I almost said yes.
Then my father spoke.
“You’re the reason Bellweather got the Horizon redesign.”
It was not a question.
I turned toward him.
“Partly.”
“Partly?”
“There are thirty-one people on that team.”
“But you’re on it.”
“Yes.”
His eyes sharpened.
I watched business replace embarrassment.
It happened so quickly that something cold settled in my stomach.
“What exactly do you do on the project?”
“Dad.”
“I’m asking.”
“I’m lead design coordinator for the residential and hospitality integration.”
Logan whistled softly.
My father ignored him.
“And you report directly to Hayes Capital?”
“Not exactly.”
Alexander answered this time.
“She reports through Bellweather, but final design approval on several packages comes through my office.”
My father looked at me as though I had changed shape.
“You’ve been in the Horizon meetings?”
“Some of them.”
“The procurement meetings?”
“No.”
“The contractor reviews?”
“Dad.”
“Richard,” my mother said quietly.
He heard the warning and stopped.
For perhaps three seconds.
Then he turned to Alexander.
“Well, now that we’ve all met under unusually informal circumstances, perhaps we should sit down.”
Alexander’s gaze moved toward the dining table.
There was no chair for me.
My father noticed.
His face changed.
“Diane.”
“I can get one.”
My mother hurried toward the living room.
I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
A chair was brought from my father’s study.
Then another for Alexander.
My mother set them near the head of the table, displacing Uncle Peter and Michelle.
The entire rearrangement took less than ninety seconds.
That was somehow worse than being left in the kitchen.
For an hour, there had been no room for me.
May you like
Now there was room because Alexander Hayes had walked through the door.
“I’m not hungry,” I said.
