I nodded, not certain what to say next. “How about you Rhys, what have you been up to?”
“Rhys has a girlfriend,” Brooke said in a very teasing manner, enough to annoy her sibling.
“Not a girlfriend, a fiancée. I’m spending Christmas with her family. Mom is not happy about it.”
“You’re just too young,” Karen said. “You have your whole life ahead of you. Look at Mark, he’s at a good age to get married. Why aren’t you married yet, Mark?” She deflected the conversation.
“Mom, I’m older than you were when you and Dad got married,” Rhys said. “We aren’t going to get married until after I finish law school.”
“Law school? Wow.”
“Maybe I should go to law school?” Brooke mused.
Karen reached over and patted Brooke on the shoulder. “I think law school requires more focus than you’d be comfortable with.’
“Law school would eat you alive,” Rhys added.
Brooke screwed up her face in the same manner her mother had earlier. She looked at me and gave a big shrug.
At that moment, I didn’t know what to do either.
2
BROOKE
“Behave,” Mom admonished me as we got out of the car.
“I will.”
“I don’t want you drinking too much. These are your father’s colleagues. You will be working for these people. Your father pulled strings to get you that job. Do not embarrass him.”
“I won’t embarrass him, or you.” I didn’t know what I did that had Mom so agitated.
We hurried inside, the true cold of winter had hit, and even though the streets were icy, the foundation had insisted on holding their gala. Didn’t they have any locals on the planning committee? Surely someone would have pointed out that if we were going to get snow it would happen the second weekend in January. It always happens on the second weekend. Atlanta simply did not have the infrastructure to deal with the snow and ice, making going out somewhat hazardous.
But hazardous conditions aside, Dad was expected to make an appearance at this event. We stopped at the coat check, full of unfashionable heavy coats and thick sweaters that only came out on snow days and did not coordinate with anyone’s formal attire.
I also didn’t understand why this event had been planned so soon after the new year. Didn’t they realize everyone was tired of partying, and it was time to curl up and try to stay warm?
I took off my coat and handed it to Dad. Mom made a noise.
I glanced over and caught her sneering at my dress.
“What?” I dared her to say anything about what I was wearing.
She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just that, well. I don’t think that dress suits you.”
“It’s the only dress I own that is fancy enough.” We were at a black-tie affair; I wore my best dress.
Mom hadn’t given me much warning about my attendance, so shopping for anything was out of the question. Not that I would have. I liked the dress, it fit, and I thought I looked good in it. It was a deep red, with lace over a nude lining on the bodice, and running down the sides. Velvet panels in the front and back completed the skirt. It wasn’t particularly low cut, but I always had cleavage. My boobs practically gave me cleavage in crew-necked T-shirts. The rest of the dress skimmed over my curves. I felt glamorous and thought I looked hot.
“What’s wrong with my dress?”
“Maybe you could get away with that in Scotland, but I don’t think we’re ready for it here.”
“I bought the dress in New York.”
We continued into the main ballroom area of the event. As people looked over to see who was arriving, Mom got close and began speaking to me with a hissy whisper. “People are staring. I don’t think that dress fits properly. It’s too revealing.”