Well, since there was no way out . . . I held up my hand. “One minute, Mom.”
Avery’s grin was evil, and my mom was still standing a foot away. As I leaned over to whisper in Avery’s ear, which also meant I could smell her flowery perfume, I bit down on her earlobe. “You’ll pay for that.”
“Oh.” She winced. “Sorry, but your weekly schedule’s booked, and we all know Sunday’s God’s day.” With that, she hopped off my lap, looked down, and quickly turned and hugged my mom. “Why don’t we go to the table while Lucas takes care of a little pesky problem . . .” She turned. “Maybe some ice in your next drink will help, sweetie pie.”
“Thanks, pumpkin face,” I said through clenched teeth. “You’re always so smart.”
She giggled and waved. “Oh my gosh, stud, that’s what I’m here for! To be your brain when all the blood in your head goes south!”
My mom let out a little gasp just as my dad appeared. “Cheapest valet parking in the city.” He frowned. “Patty, you look pale.” His attention quickly turned to Avery as a huge grin spread across his face. He opened his arms wide, and she basically jumped into them.
“I’m starved.” After Avery hugged both of my parents, she patted her stomach. “Aren’t you guys starving? Let’s go.” She maneuvered herself between the two of them and walked away while I downed the rest of my drink and contemplated murdering Avery with a steak knife.
I glanced up. The bartender’s judgmental stare wasn’t welcome, which was why I needed to make it clear she wasn’t my daughter. “She’s my date.”
He nodded.
“Not my daughter.”
“Whatever you say, man.”
“No. Seriously. Besides, she’s a horrible, vengeful, spiteful woman.”
At that moment Avery’s laughter floated over to us.
The bartender frowned. “Yeah, she seems horrible.”
“She’s a damn thorn in my side!”
He held up his hands. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have brought her to such a romantic spot.”
I tugged at my shirt collar and cursed.
He gave a low whistle, then poured a shot of whiskey and slid it over to me. “On the house, man.”
“Thanks.” I tossed it back, cracked my neck, and made my way toward the laughter.
I froze midstep when I saw my Mom reach out to hold Avery’s hand.
Damn it, I hated memories. They never stayed put, did they? Our parents had always been close. Hell, my parents actually went to Avery’s graduation, though I stayed home and got drunk off my ass, all the while staring at her graduation announcement and picture like a wasted loser.
“What’s so funny?” I said once I reached them.
“Oh, our Avery.” My mother didn’t mean to claim her, did she? By proclaiming ownership of Avery, my mother would give her the wrong idea about what she meant to me, and the last thing I needed was to explain to the Blacks why I broke another one of their daughters’ hearts . . . over a simple misunderstanding. Then again, it was Avery’s fault to begin with. She was the one who had said something to Erin. She was the reason I was even IN this situation.
“Mr. Thorn, we’ll seat you now.”
The hostess grinned from ear to ear as she eyed me up and down, and she definitely grazed the front of my pants with her fingers when she laid a napkin across my lap.
Avery elbowed me in the chest—hard.
“Oh dear.” My mom noticed the jab and covered her mouth. “Is everything okay?”
I grabbed my water glass and took a big gulp so I wouldn’t be expected to respond.
“Perfect!” Avery said a little too loudly. “I just have this weird reaction whenever other women try to grope my man.” She glared up at the hostess. “Especially in front of my future in-laws.”
I spit out the water all over the table.
Avery offered a sugary smile. “Groping is rude, don’t you think?”
The woman paled and shook her head. “Your, um, waiter will be with you shortly.” She then basically ran off.
And I was pounding my chest, trying not to choke on my own spit while my parents’ eyes widened.
Oh shit, was Mom crying? She used the white napkin to dab at the corners of her eyes, not that it helped, because more tears appeared.
This. This was my hell.
Thanks, Avery.
Maybe I should have had her promise not to lie about shit rather than to be nice. Apparently, being too nice was a very real thing. And it was currently staring at me like a deer in headlights, and I had no idea how to fix what she’d just done.
My dad stood just as the waiter approached. “Champagne for the table!”
“Dad.” I shook my head. The waiter was grinning ear to ear—of course he was, because I was about to pay out the ass for this dinner. “We don’t need champagne.”
“Sure we do!” my dad thundered back, his gray bushy eyebrows drawing together like two sexually frustrated caterpillars. Damn it, Avery! My own sexual frustration was playing tricks with my mind. “We’re celebrating.”
“Oh!” The waiter beamed at us. “What are we celebrating?”
“My son!” My dad wiped a tear from his cheek. “He’s getting married to this terrific young woman!”
It was Avery’s turn to choke.
There was nothing else I could do—just pat her back and then, when she looked at me with horror-stricken eyes, slide my hand under the table and squeeze her knee with force, all the while smiling through my clenched teeth. “I. Hate. You.”