Feels like I know more than he does.
“And besides, you really believe he’ll cut me off forever? Come on. That’s pretty extreme.” Park barks out a laugh. “He needs me too damn much. I threaten to leave and he’ll be begging me to stay.”
More like Park’s convinced himself that’s true. He’s too confident, too cocky. “What exactly is going on with you and Diane?”
“Nothing. Why, what is she telling you?” His skeptical gaze lands on me.
“What is she telling me?” I take a step back, resting a hand on my chest. “Come on, Park. We don’t talk. She doesn’t divulge her secrets to me.”
He inhales deep, looking like he could breathe fire. “She’s not telling me much either, beyond nagging my ass and trying to get me to drop my plan.”
“For once, I’m going to have to agree with her.” When he turns to glare at me, I continue. “Be real with yourself and admit it’s not a good idea, Park. Dad’s going to retire soon and leave you the business. Why can’t you be patient and wait him out?”
“I want it now, that’s why. He’s holding me back. He’s always held me back.” He turns his back to me, his shoulders drooping almost in seeming defeat. “You don’t understand what it’s like, to be his namesake. To be constantly compared to him and feeling like you don’t measure up.”
He’s right. I don’t know what that’s like. I’m sure it’s a lot of pressure. “Just—reconsider what you’re doing, okay? You’re making a mistake. I don’t want you to regret it.”
Park actually scoffs. “What, is that some sort of threat?”
I’m taken aback by the hostility in his voice, and what he actually said. “A threat? No, why the hell would I threaten you?”
My brother doesn’t have an answer for me.
Instead, he storms back into the house, slamming the door behind him.
Jensen
It is so awkward, hanging out in the Montgomerys’ grand kitchen, watching my very own mother buzz around the room, tasting this, checking that, bugging the catering staff with her incessant hovering, all while swigging away from her very generously sized wineglass. She barely bothered to greet me when Parker brought me and Addie into the kitchen, and the more I watch her, the more queasy I get.
She literally makes me sick to my stomach.
“Stuffed mushroom?” Addie practically thrusts the tray of mushrooms in my face and I’m tempted to violently shove them away.
But I don’t. “Um, no thank you. I’m not very hungry,” I tell her with a wan smile.
“Oh, that’s too bad. They’re delicious.” Addie pops one in her mouth and sets the tray on the counter.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” I want to make small talk, anything to avoid Diane. I can’t help but look over at where she’s standing, near the oven, Parker in front of her and both of them talking in low murmurs. They don’t look upset with each other, but I can’t help but let my hackles rise. Their vibe isn’t positive.
“He’s in the movie room playing video games.” Addie rolls her eyes. “He was so mad at Park earlier when they got into that argument, I figured he can do whatever he wants. I just want him calm and happy.”
“What were they arguing about?” I ask carefully.
“I was complaining about Diane trying to keep us from eating the appetizers. I was starving, you know? And so was Trent. So we start grumbling about it, and Park overheard Trent say something about Diane being stingy with the food, and Park lost it. Called my boyfriend an asshole, told him he was going to kick his ass—it was ridiculous. I’m so glad you weren’t there to witness it,” Addie finishes with a little shudder.
I sort of wish I had witnessed it. “Sounds like maybe Park has other problems on his mind,” I say with a little shrug.
“Yeah, I guess, but he shouldn’t take it out on Trent, you know? It’s not fair. He blew up over nothing.” Addie checks her phone, biting on her lower lip. “Trent’s texting me. He wants me to come to the screening room. I’ll be right back, okay?”
Before I can reply, she’s gone.
“Care for something to drink?”
I whirl around at the sound of Diane’s voice, my gaze meeting hers, her eyes the same color as mine. That same shade of blue—does she see it? Does she? I do. I see the familiarity even in her overly Botoxed features, the arch of her brows, the angle of her nose. I look like her. I am her, just the younger version.
But she’s blind to it. Too self-absorbed, too caught up in her own bullshit.
God, I really cannot stand this woman, yet I want to know more. The conflicting emotions that war within me make me nauseous.