“Alexa, honey.” Mom reaches out to embrace me. I welcome the hug, missing her so much. “You look beautiful.”
“Same for you, Mom.”
“Alexa,” Dad simply nods before shifting his gaze to Hunter. I know this expression well. He’s showing no emotion, but inside, he’s already plotting Hunter’s death.
“Hi, Dad,” is all I say, but then I draw in breath. “I’d like to formally introduce you to my boss, Mr. Cash.”
Dad extends his hand, which Hunter shakes with a pressed smile. “I believe we have met.”
“We have,” Hunter reassures him.
An awkward silence falls between them, so I quickly introduce Mom.
“And, of course, my mother, Charlotte Edwards.”
They shake hands politely. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Edwards.”
Mom smiles graciously, but when she gazes at me oddly, I feel like she can read my mind. There is no chance I’m hanging out with them tonight, so I try to think of some excuse.
“You’re here for how many days?” Mom asks.
“Leaving tomorrow.”
“I heard you went to NYU to see Beau.” Mom grins, but I can tell she knows the whole story. How on Earth, though? “Rocky has a big mouth, in case you’re wondering.”
I nod, then smile. “Of course. His son sure knows how to surprise me.”
“Charlotte, we must say hello to the Prestons. Shall we?”
Mom quickly touches my arm with a warm smile. “If we don’t see you again tonight, see you back home, okay?”
“Bye, Mom.”
My father simply walks away, taking Mom with him. The second they’re gone, I turn to face Hunter.
“You could have been nicer to my dad.”
Hunter cocks his head. “Excuse me? Why should I tolerate his behavior? Or should I just continue to smile while your mother talks about how much fun your family is?”
“Hey,” I almost shout. “Don’t bring my mother into this. Just admit you don’t like my father.”
“Well, you don’t like your father,” he argues back.
“You know what? I have no idea what your problem is anymore. You’re so hot and cold. I get it, I’m young, and apparently, you’re in a fake marriage.”
“Alexandra—”
“I need some space,” I mumble, desperate to ask him about what Chester said, but I keep quiet. Now is not the time. I’m angry and frustrated, knowing I don’t do well in either one of these moods.
There’s nowhere to go unless I leave the venue. I glance toward the ceiling, noticing a mezzanine section like those opera booths people sit in. Yanking my dress and lifting it, I make my way to the back stairs and walk up in the dimly lit narrow staircase. When I reach the final step, I move toward the edge.
The view from here is spectacular, with all the lights and people looking stunning in their gowns. The floral arrangements are centered perfectly, but with the dim lights, it looks like some enchanted forest.
I stand here for a while, just observing while thinking about life. Last night with Beau was so much fun. With him, things are easy. We’ve grown up together, and with that comes a comfort I’ve been missing.
My mind wanders back to our conversation about college. As I glance around, I realize this doesn’t make me happy. All these older people have lived or have their careers. I just want to have fun, not feel the weight of the world on my shoulders, and most of all, I just want to be me again.
An MC comes onto the stage to speak about the origin of this gala. After a rather large applause, he then introduces my father.