Being led through the house made Kat uncomfortable as it always did. She remembered going to friends’ houses over the years for holidays, to the way they just walked into their family homes, to how welcome she felt, to how they acted as if they still lived there even if they didn’t. It was a far cry from the way she was escorted through the halls as if she needed supervision.
She wasn’t going to steal the candle holders, for fuck’s sake. They were way too large to hide.
The thought made her laugh, a momentary break from the discomfort. Dean gave her a side-eye then chuckled, as if her laughter had made him feel slightly better.
The dining room was set up as it always was—impressive and all for show. The huge table filled the room, and large windows overlooked the backyard and gardens there. It wasn’t like Bradley’s property, where everything had a reason and practical function. Instead, this house had land and plants just to have them, not because they were useful in the least.
In fact, she doubted her parents ever ventured outside to enjoy the gardens they paid so much to maintain.
“Please, sit. Your parents will be down shortly.” With that, Tessa left, and took at least some of the heaviness of the room with her.
“Nice place,” Dean said as he took a seat, his words full of meaning.
“Yeah,” Kat agreed as she sat to the left of the head of the table, the spot she was expected to sit. Olin and Bradley sat farther down, which made her happy. The farther her men sat from her parents, the better.
Not because she was ashamed of them, but she didn’t want to give her parents any more ability to focus on them.
“Didn’t realize you grew up like this,” Dean pressed.
“Yep. Lucky me, huh?”
Dean shook his head. “Money isn’t everything. Judging by that tight look on your face, I’m guessing it wasn’t all it’s chalked up to be here.”
Boy, wasn’t that right? She recalled how many of her friends had been jealous upon seeing her dropped off in a town car with a driver, upon seeing where she lived. They had no idea the pressure that sort of life created, though.
Kat would have happily grown up dirt poor so long as it was a happy house, a place where she felt loved and accepted. Instead, she’d had all the money she could want but nothing else.
Instead of answering, Kat sighed and shifted in her seat. Thankfully, the door opened before she had to display any more of her painful past.
At least, she was thankful until she lifted her gaze and spotted her parents walking in. It seemed no matter how old she got, no matter how many years passed, it always came back to this.
Kat felt like a child desperately wanting nothing more than her parents’ approval, and judging from the scowl on her father’s face, she’d guess she wasn’t getting that today.
Olin said nothing as he watched Kat’s parents walk into the large, formal dining room. He had to admit, the mother resembled Kat.
Or, at least, the features did. They had the same color hair, the same pale skin and freckles. The thing that made them different was the way they carried themselves.
Though Kat was sweet—always smiling and laughing and causing trouble—this woman was hard around the edges. She had no lines in her face, as if she never made an actual expression.
“Katherine,” the woman said, her tone giving away that the get together wasn’t exactly a happy one. “You should have told us you were bringing others.”
“Sorry,” Kat said. “I didn’t know they were coming until this morning. I sort of sprang it on them.”
“This morning?” The sharpness in her tone said she didn’t care for whatever assumption she’d come up with.
No doubt it was questioning why their daughter would be with three men early in the morning.
Olin could have spoken up, but he let Kat handle it for now.
“Since my daughter refuses to follow basic etiquette, I suppose I’ll do so. My name is Barlow Grant, and this is my wife, Elizabeth.” Kat’s father, Barlow, offered the introduction—and a not-at-all-subtle reprimand—as he sat at the head of his table. Elizabeth sat beside him, across the table from Kat.
“Right, sorry,” Kat said, her tone surprising Olin. She was always feisty, always full of herself. How was it that she could look like a beaten puppy with just a few words from her parents? “This is Bradley Smith, Olin Ramiz and Dean Havers.”
Barlow stared at Dean, probably because he was dressed the most professional, his gaze hard. “And how is it you know Katherine?”
Dean pulled on an obviously fake smile. “We’re friends.”
“She doesn’t normally bring friends by, especially not to important family meetings like this.” The sharp words told Dean that the man was smart. He might be an asshole, but he wasn’t someone to take lightly.