Page 123 of Wicked Brutal

“I did.”

“And she needed to finish school.”

“I’ve never disagreed with you about that.” Victor turns toward me. “I’ve been very patient.”

There it is again. Patient. As though my childhood was an inconvenience the two of them graciously allowed me to complete.

He lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Only a few more months.” His thumb passes over the spot he just kissed. “Then we can finally start our life.”

Our life. The one he and my father designed before I was old enough to understand what they were doing.

I look out the window as Boston comes into view.

The restaurant occupies the upper floor of a luxury hotel downtown, and everything about it is quietly, obscenely expensive. Dark polished wood. Cream linen. Fresh flowers. Enormous windows overlooking the city. Tables spaced far enough apart that conversations disappear into the low murmur of the room.

The hostess greets Victor by name. “Mr. Tremblay. Welcome back.”

“Good afternoon.”

Victor guides me after her. When we reach the table, he pulls out my chair before taking the one beside me. Dad sits across from us. Water is poured. Menus appear.

We order after a few minutes, and once the waiter leaves, Victor turns his chair slightly toward mine. “I’ve been thinking about what happens after graduation.”

My stomach tightens. “I assumed you had.”

His mouth tips upward. “I expect the transition to be relatively easy for you. I have staff, so I’m certainly not marrying you because I need someone to scrub floors or cook my dinner.”

“That’s reassuring.” His eyebrows lift. I immediately wonder if that was too much.

Then he smiles. “You were worried?”

“I wouldn’t say worried.”

“What would you say?”

“I’ve never been especially good at cooking.” Victor laughs. Across the table, Dad’s expression doesn’t change. I reach for my water. “I can learn.”

“You won’t need to. You’ll have other responsibilities.”

“What kind?”

“The house will be yours to manage. You’ll know the staff and oversee entertaining. You’ll accompany me when appropriate. Dinners, fundraisers, political events, social events. Washington and New York fairly often. Occasionally overseas.”

“And when it isn’t appropriate?”

“You’ll stay home.” Simple. Decided.

I nod. “Okay.”

“I entertain frequently, and some of it will be important. I expect my wife to understand the people around me.”

“Understand them how?”

Victor seems pleased that I asked. “Their wives. Their families. What they like. What they don’t. Who shouldn’t be seated together. Who needs attention. Who needs to believe they’re getting attention.”

Dad gives a quiet laugh. “That last category is usually the largest.”

Victor smiles. “By far.”