Page 21 of Fate In Fiction

“Your daughter is a delight,” Emmett says, and I try to find a sarcastic undertone, but it’s not there.

“We’re realizing each day how compatible we are.” The confidence pushes through me because the sooner my father buys into how fated and perfect Emmett and me are for each other, the sooner I get my freedom. “We both enjoy reading,” I state, feeling his arm flex a few times, signaling me on the lie. “It’s a competition who can finish their book before the other does.”

“Sometimes I let her win,” Emmett continues, and I could laugh at how convincing he sounds.

“I have never been a reader.” My father clears his throat and sips his glass as his eyes slide to the table. “I guess you made an alright choice, Phinie.” He’s unamused.

“An alright choice?” I hear myself blurt out as a defensive tone takes over. “I’d choose Emmett a hundred times over again. He encourages me to be myself. He doesn’t enjoy dancing, but will dance with me because he hates the thought of someone else fulfilling my joy.” Emmett’s head turns toward me out of my peripheral and I turn to face him. “Though he probably won’t admit it, I’ve noticed he has this thing where he chooses the oldest couple in a restaurant and pays for their meal during his quick trip to the bathroom.” I meet his eyes and can’t hide my admirable smile. “When the couple thanks the waiter and looks around for the generous person, he fiddles with his drink to mask his smile and the happy glint in his eyes.” Emmett’s forehead scrunches as his eyebrows pull together. His brown eyes fill with an unreadable emotion, but I know he’s taken aback on an emotional level, knowing I’ve picked up on his secret thing.

I smile through the silent win of I know you better than you think I do.

“How kind-hearted.” My father speaks, breaking our silent moment of appreciation. “We best take a seat so we can enjoy our dinner.” I tug Emmett’s arm and guide him toward the table as my heart tampers down on new feelings that cannot form.

Light talk filters throughout dinner as my father goes on about his work, the city goals, and his plans for future politics. Emmett engages, full of fake curiosity, to appease him. I’ll hand it to Emmett; this man has been trained to make everyone feel special and heard. A mental reminder of his warning to not believe any charm he tosses my way while we are in public. But he’s so genuine when he thinks no one is watching. My eyes and brain remain hyper focused with observing his mannerisms as they come into play. There’s a blankness to his eyes, though he smiles and engages. I know the conversation with my father is painstaking to Emmett, but he performs interest anyway. How many times has he used this tactic to have it so perfected? Maybe it’s how he also masks his own insecurity or fears. Not many people his age could take a CEO position with minimal experience.

Julianne fiddles about with her napkin, bored out of her mind, and probably wishing one of our three older siblings came for dinner with their children so she wouldn’t be left out. My mother’s cheeks have to be aching with the smile she passes back and forth to me and the two men next to us. I glance at the large grandfather clock and realize I have to be at the airport in less than two hours. Things here need to wrap up quickly. After the anxiety this dinner has caused, sneaking off to the beach in San Diego with a book and drink will be the perfect recipe to help soothe my soul. And maybe a club, if my fake ID works with the right bouncer.

“Emmett.” My mother grasps his attention in the quick moment my father takes a breath between sentences. “How are your siblings doing? My friends and I love staying up to date with other socialites, and we came across an article in a magazine the other day about your sister. Such an awful situation.”

“Mom, that’s personal.” I shake my head, knowing how Emmett began to shut down when I brought up his siblings yesterday.

“Which is why it’s best to get answers straight from the source instead of gossip magazines, Josephine.” Ugh, of course, my mother would jump on the opportunity for celebrity type gossip. A desperate housewife to the extreme.

“I’m not the direct source.” Emmett smiles politely. “One thing I can verify about the media is that nothing is what it seems. They’ll say anything to sell a story. My sister’s ex is a––” He pauses as his eyes land on my little sister, who’s listening eagerly in hopes to hear a colorful word. “Slimeball.”

“So sad.” My mother places her hand over her heart dramatically, as if this affects her personal life. “The article painted it differently.”

“Well, it’s called entertainment for a reason. The media profits on clicks, not truth.” Emmett terminates the conversation by finishing off his drink. His arm rests over the back of my chair, and he kisses the side of my head. This time, I find myself smiling and relaxing into him. I’m finally reacting better to his touch, but I shouldn’t be longing for it.

“You two are so adorable. So perfect. I can tell how serious you must be getting,” my mother chimes after finishing her second glass of wine. Please keep your boldness in check. “The amount of time you spend together, I thought you’d be living together by now.”

I can’t with my family.

Thank goodness I wasn’t mid-sip of my drink, because I would have just choked. My weak laugh settles in my chest, and I scour my brain for a response. I know where this is going. This dinner was a bad idea.

“You know...” He gives my shoulder a squeeze, unaware of the trap my tipsy mother just set. “It sometimes feels like we already are.” My nerves jumble in my stomach, and my shrimp linguini is about to go overboard and onto the dinner plate.

“Besides hanging out with Stella and her other friend, Josephine was quite the homebody. Now every single weekend is spent at your place.” Carol looks my way with proud eyes. “I’m happy she has found someone worthy of her time.”

“I don’t think I’ve earned the worthy title yet, but thank you.” Emmett looks down at his plate and clears his throat. “I’m glad you two aren’t annoyed by how much I keep stealing her away.”

“Not at all.” My father claps his hands together with excitement. “She may as well move in at this point.”

“Uhh––” Emmett stammers for the first time tonight, and my head turns to him. His oh shit eyes only flash fear for a moment before they soften to tell me it’ll be okay.

My jaw slacks, and I don’t bother hiding my stunned reaction, because this was not part of the plan. At least this early on.

“I’m surprised she hasn’t.” The tone in my mother’s voice is too hopeful, and my annoyance rises with how badly they want me to marry off in order to boost their lives.

Emmett smiles and gives my nose a gentle pinch, but my glare of warning remains set. “While living under one roof has been something we have talked about, I figured it was too soon for your approval,” Emmett replies, and I refrain myself from jabbing my fork into his leg.

Approval? I can make my own damn choices.

“Also.” I speak up, trying to turn the conversation. “We figured we should wait another month or so.” I smile, but my heart thumps like a racket ball against my chest. “I know as my parents, you raised me to take my time with decisions.” They haven’t, but there’s a small sliver of hope for the seed I just planted.

“Nonsense, Josephine.” My mother waves her hand about and shoots me a subtle warning look to not mess this up. “You know, the best way to truly know someone is by living with them.” She winks, and Emmett chooses this moment to rest his hand on my thigh, as if that will calm me down. “Look at how fast your older siblings got married after moving in with their lovers.” I’m void of words and too focused on the heat of his hand against the delicate skin on my thigh. I should have chosen the longer dress.

Taking a deep breath, it only heightens the tingling between my legs and has me fantasizing about what would happen if this moment was in one of my books. Emmett’s hand would definitely slide higher, teasing me and challenging how well I can give a poker face. But this is reality and, of course, he isn’t affected by touching my body. Silence falls upon the table as my parents both wait for us to respond. But before we can, my father piles on.