Well, and I couldn’t resist her in that dress.
Now we’re entering the Cheesecake Factory fifteen minutes late—not as bad as I thought it would be, but my dad is a stickler for timeliness and that’s usually Park’s job, to show up late. But there he is standing with Addie and her boyfriend Trent, Dad and Diane sitting nearby. Diane’s on her phone, her index finger sliding on the screen, scrolling, scrolling, scrolling, not paying attention to anyone.
Dad’s glowering at me, his arms crossed, still wearing his suit, like he just came from the office. “You’re late,” he tells me in greeting when we stop in front of him. “You know they won’t seat us until the entire party is here.”
No, I didn’t know. “Sorry.” I grab hold of Jensen’s hand to find that she’s trembling, staring at Diane like she sees a ghost. “Dad, this is Jensen.”
“Nice to meet you,” he says gruffly, standing and holding out his hand to shake. I drop Jensen’s hand so she can shake his. “This is my wife, Diane.”
Diane stands as well, sending Jensen a withering stare before she heads for the hostess stand. “I’ll let them know we’re all here so we can get our table. Finally,” she calls over her shoulder as she walks away.
I ignore her jab at me, angry that she so blatantly dissed Jensen. “Don’t mind her,” I whisper close to Jensen’s ear. “She’s a total bitch.”
Her answer is a shaky exhale.
“Rhett!” Addie tackle-hugs me and I squeeze her close, kissing her check. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Happy birthday, Ads.” I steer her so we’re facing Jensen. “Addie, this is my friend, Jensen. Jensen, this is Addison, my little sister.”
Friend. Jensen is so much more than a friend to me, but I can’t call her my girlfriend yet. We’re not at that point in our relationship and I know she would freak out if I use that word, especially to my family.
Hell, I might freak out if someone used that word.
“His seventeen-year-old sister, as of today.” Addie grins and wraps Jensen up in a friendly hug. “It’s so good to meet you! Rhett never brings girls around. Neither does Park.”
Jensen hugs her back, looking
awkward. Uncomfortable. But there’s a smile on her face and her cheeks are flushed. “It’s nice to meet you. Happy birthday.”
“Thank you! You remember Trent,” Addie tells me, and Trent and I shake hands. “Jensen, this is my boyfriend.”
“Good to meet you,” Trent says, staring at Jensen like he’s checking her out. Considering he’s seventeen years old and a walking horn dog, I can’t blame him for blatantly staring at my girl.
But he better keep his hands to himself.
Everyone’s shaking hands and making nice, and then there’s Park, pushing himself into Jensen’s personal space, introducing himself, gripping her hand tight and taking a long time to let it go. Jensen smiles at him and steps back when he releases his hold on her, her gaze skittering around as if she’s looking for someone else. When Diane reappears, Jensen’s eyes go wide and she scoots closer to me.
For some reason, she’s intimidated most by Diane. But I guess I can’t blame her. We’re all used to Diane and her typical snobby bitch ways. Like tonight, I can hear her snapping at my dad like usual, because I swear she’s always mad at him, the sneer on her face seemingly permanent. She looks put together though. She always does. With her blonde hair perfectly curled and freshly colored. Her Botoxed face and enhanced lips make her look plastic, and she’s wearing every designer label she can find, like she’s some sort of walking billboard for the finer things in life.
I hate her.
“Parker, you should have a word with that hostess,” Diane tells my dad, her disgust blatant. “They won’t seat us even though everyone’s here.”
“Diane, give them a minute,” he starts, but she cuts him off, shaking her head.
“I don’t want to be here all night,” she whispers harshly. “This place is so incredibly tacky.”
Dad’s eyes flash with anger, and Addie’s flash with hurt. Trent wraps his arm around her shoulders, tugging her to his side.
“Hey, be cool,” I tell Diane, stepping forward so I’m closer to her. “This is Addie’s night. Don’t mess it up.”
“Are you warning me?” Diane asks, her voice shrill.
“Diane, settle down,” Dad says, grabbing her elbow and pulling her away from our group. From their expressions and the tone of their voices, I can tell their conversation is turning heated.
“Nothing like dear old Dad getting into it with the missus,” Park drawls, smiling at me. “Talk about tacky.”
Addie laughs and disengages herself from Trent so she can wrap herself around our big brother, giving him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “I love you.”