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My heart races, and I press my lips together tightly so as not to scream in frustration. “What the hell are you doing here?” I seethe out loud.
My mother stands tall in her Versace dress and Louboutin heels as she looks around at the scenery. Her lips twist in a grimace and the smirk on her face that follows suggests she’s disgusted to even be here. Without a hint of approval, she walks up the drive and begins to climb the stairs.
Shit! I consider hiding, but I know it won’t do me any good. Clearly, she’s found me. She wouldn’t have randomly shown up right here without having it on good authority that she’d locate me here. I know Dalton wouldn’t have sold me out like this, nor Caleb, but my mother is nothing if not resourceful and determined to get her way.
She doesn’t give me a chance to hide either, opening the door and striding right up the porch. I cringe, regretting that I didn’t lock it after Sawyer left.
Without knocking, she enters like she owns the place and sneers at me. “You were supposed to be in New York yesterday. I figured I would come fetch you myself.”
“I’m not a thing to collect!” I stand and cross my arms.
She smirks, turning her attention from me to the dress form. As she approaches it, she rolls her eyes. “No, you’re a wayward daughter, delusional in thinking this is fashion.” She flicks her hand at it like it’s garbage.
Her words are intended to hurt. I know that, and I try to ignore her, but it still stings.
“This is tacky, Claire. Just trash. I want you to give up this nonsense and come home to get married already.” She sighs, like I’m being a stubborn child. “I’ve let you play out your fantasies. I’ve catered to letting you think you’re a ‘designer’, but this is nothing but an embarrassment to the Rennard line.”
I fume, so furious that I lack the ability to speak. The bottled-up scream will slip out before a single word.
“I’ve given you plenty of time to sow your wild oats and get your useless, fancy degree, but it’s time to come home.”
“No.” I exhale it with all the heat of my anger.
She smirks. “Listen. Any money you have access to belongs to the Rennard estate. I can easily take it all away.”
When the door opens behind her, she pauses to turn and watch Dalton rush in. “Oh. It’s you. Come to meddle with more gibberish about what your lawyers want to tell me now?”
“Claire, don’t agree to anything she says,” he warns me, backing me up.
I shake my head. “Never.” It’s taken me too long to stand up to her like this, but I can’t imagine caving anymore.
“You’re better off staying quiet like usual, Dalton.” She turns her sneer to him. “This doesn’t involve you. This conversation is between me and my embarrassing, pathetic daughter who thinks she can enjoy fulfilling her big, stupid dreams instead of doing what the women in our family are expected to do.”
“I won’t marry someone I don’t love!” I shout.
Dalton stands next to me, putting his hand on the small of my back.
“Who said anything about love?” she sasses back. “You will marry the man I arrange for you, and that is final.”
She turns again, as Dalton and I do. The front door remains open, leaving Sawyer a clear path inside. He enters confidently, his narrowed gaze on my mother as he walks right in and slams his toolbox onto the counter so hard it cracks the smooth surface.
Chapter 24
Claire
I blink, tense and anxious, as Sawyer glowers at my mother.
“Get out.” He orders it firmly, looking directly at her and not backing down.
I’m not sure how much he’s heard, but he’s livid. I’ve never seen him this mad. I’ve never seen any man this furious before. All the muscles in his arms are locked tight. His hands remain in fists atop the counter he’s just cracked. He stands there taut with anger, and as he slides his jaw, clenching his teeth at the sight of my mother smirking right back at him, I almost give in to a helpless whine.
As I snap out of the shock, flinching and hurrying to intervene and stand between them to mediate this mess somehow, Dalton takes hold of my wrist and prevents me from getting in the middle.
I already am in the middle. I’m in the thick of it, with my controlling mother on one side of the room opposite the man I think I could love with all my heart if I let myself lower my guard that far.
“Mother—”
“I said get out,” Sawyer tells her as he stalks around the counter to face her. He doesn’t stop, walking all the way over to me. Passing Dalton, Sawyer continues until he stands at my left and takes my hand.
