It would be preferable to being here right now.
Chin up. Stay strong. Don’t let them browbeat you.
She raised her head, staring across at Emily first. Her sister was glaring at her with such anger and disgust that it made her feel like she was going to vomit.
She didn’t know why they had never been close. Why Emily had always hated her. But it had been like this for as far back as Lara could remember.
“You have a date to the wedding?” Emily sneered. “Who? Who could possibly want you?”
“Emily!” her mother said, sounding shocked. Although Lara didn’t know how she could be, since Emily often said things like this to her.
“Emily, that’s not kind,” Chandler added in that smooth way of his. He forked up some salmon. “I’m certain that someone as lovely and gorgeous as Lara has plenty of beaux knocking on her door.”
Beaux? Really? Who spoke like that?
And why did it always feel like she was being doused in a vat of slime when Chandler talked?
Creep.
“Of course, we’d love to meet him,” he added. “Make sure he’s good enough for our Lara.”
“Yes, certainly,” her mother agreed, looking somewhat relieved.
Why would she look relieved? Had she been worried no one would want her? Well, she’d be right since Butch was just pretending to be her boyfriend out of the goodness of his heart.
But she wasn’t going to admit that she’d practically begged a stranger to be her date to her sister’s wedding.
“Well, you’ll meet him the day of the wedding,” she said, eyeing Chandler suspiciously. Why was he being so nice?
She guessed he was a good-looking man. If you went for the slimy sort. He always knew just what to say. People were drawn to him and his charisma. But she’d lived with him for years and knew the truth.
On the outside, their little family might look picture perfect, but they were rotten to the core.
Just another hour. Then you can get away. On Sunday, you can leave and never come back.
She’d have plenty of money in her bank account and she’d have options.
“I’d really like to meet him before then. Won’t he be coming to the dress rehearsal?” Chandler asked.
“I don’t think he needs to when he’s not part of the bridal party,” she said tightly. No way was she making Butch do that.
She didn’t want to do it. Although, it would have been nice to have backup.
“Hmm, not sure I approve of you dating someone we haven’t met,” Chandler said with a strange look.
“You never met Axel.” What the hell was this? The eighteen hundreds? She didn’t need his permission to date someone. Although, Chandler did like to act like he was the lord of everything and everyone. Especially those under his roof.
“And look what happened with him,” Chandler pointed out.
Damn him.
He had a point. Well, no, not really. Things hadn’t gone to shit with Axel because Chandler hadn’t approved him before they’d started dating. Nope, things had gone to shit because Axel was an asshole.
“And we have our image to think of. I actually had someone else in mind for you to take.”
Image? God. She’d forgotten what a basket case Chandler was.
“I’m not taking anyone else. That wasn’t the agreement.”
His face tightened.
“Who is it?” Emily asked. “It’s a bit late to tell us about him, isn’t it? We’ve already set up all the seating charts and confirmed with catering.”
Oh crap.
She actually had a point, as much as Lara hated to admit it.
“But you had someone in mind for me to go with, right? So you must have made allowances for me to take a plus one.”
“I already invited Marcus to the wedding,” Chandler said stiffly. “I will not uninvite him.”
Had he really been so sure that she’d go with his choice of date?
“I’m sure I can call the caterers,” her mom said quickly. “That won’t be an issue and I can rework the seating chart.”
“Thanks, Mom,” she said quietly as Emily sent their mother a seething look.
“Why so last minute? Did you just meet him? You’re not paying him to come as your date, are you?” Emily asked.
Jesus.
She was close to guessing, though. If she’d had the money, she might have paid someone to come with her. Then again, she wouldn’t be here if she had any money.
“Let’s talk about something else,” her mother said.
“Yes, like your hair color, Lara. I take it you have an appointment to change it back to its normal color,” Chandler said.
She resisted the urge to reach up and touch her lavender-colored hair. “Nope. No plans.”
“I could make you an appointment with my hairdresser, dear,” her mom said.
“No. It stays like this.” Just because it didn’t fit their image didn’t mean she was changing her appearance.
The doorbell rang, and Chandler wiped his mouth with his napkin with a small frown. Angela, who’d worked for them for years, came into the room and whispered something in Chandler’s ear.