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Mandy looks at me. I can tell that my father touching her is making her uncomfortable, but there is little I can do about it. Now comes the performance.
I smile at Dad and shrug, keeping my hands in my pockets. “Not at all. Ms. Burmmell is a coworker. She is in the accounting office at McKenzie Tech and offered to come over and help me get my group lined up for expenses.” Mandy’s mouth drops open. She starts to shake slightly. “I was just about to take her home,” I continue.
Dad still has Mandy’s hand caught in his own, so I have to push further. “She is a good friend of Mrs. McKenzie and Kane himself.” Just as I thought, my words trigger Dad to drop his grasp. He will take what is mine, but he will not mess with Kane. Messing with Kane would also mean messing with my uncle. The two were in a fraternity together at college, and the ties run deep.
He frowns slightly and crosses back to the young woman standing to the side. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Burmmell.” He doesn’t even look at Mandy anymore. “Thanks for helping Chris. I’m sure he needs it.” His arm slides around the young woman’s waist again, and he kisses her on the shoulder. It’s a display of possession, and it grosses me out. “I’m sure you two will want to be on your way.”
His last words are a dismissal, one I gladly take. Noting that Mandy has her bag, I gesture for her to walk toward the front door. Her lips are still quivering in a taunt line. I can tell she is trying to not cry, but she doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know how my father is. He takes what others care about and sometimes roughly.
She doesn’t say anything on the walk to my car. The doors slam. We put on our seatbelts in silence. I start the car and turn to her.
“I don’t know where you live,” I tell her. My voice feels so loud like it is crushing the silence that we had before.
“I’m staying at my grandmother’s.” She doesn’t look over at me. Instead, she pulls out her phone and starts texting. “I have to warn her that I’m coming home,” she explains.
“You don’t have your own apartment?”
She’s still texting, but I can tell she is rolling her eyes. “I’m not that poor, Christian. I have a place in Manhattan. My floors are being redone.” Her phone beeps. “Oh shit.”
“What?”
“Umm.” She glances up at me. The dampness in her brown eyes shows that she is holding back tears. My chest feels heavy all of a sudden — a feeling I try to ignore. “My grandmother wants you to join us for dinner.”
I stare at her for so long, I have to snap my eyes back to the road to keep from swerving out of my lane. I don’t meet parents or grandparents or any family. That’s not something I do. That is a relationship type thing, and we are not in a relationship.
“She’s very insistent.” Mandy’s chin is quivering. “Would that be so bad? We can tell her the same thing that you told your father — that I’m your accountant.” There is an obvious tone of disappointment in her voice. “Although I did tell her that I was spending the weekend at a friend’s house, not my boss’s.”
I keep silent. I really do not want to do this.
She reaches over, placing her tiny hand on the one I have on the gearshift. “Please, Christian. Would it be so bad?”
I don’t want to feel it, but something in my chest aches. That tone of voice she is using is causing me pain. Plus, I feel bad for exposing her to my father earlier — although I never know when he is coming by.
“Fine. Dinner is fine.”
Anxiety makes my stomach drop. Parents and grandparents don’t like me. That’s another reason why I don’t meet them. They always want to talk about what plans I have for their daughter — tying her up and fucking her is never the answer they want to hear.
The only thing that is making this experience bearable is that Mandy has not taken her hand off mine. That small point of warmth is helping, but I don’t want to admit that it is. I don’t want to have feelings for this pet. That’s not how I work.
“Where does this grandmother live?”
“The Bronx.” Mandy gives me a little smile like her experience with my father is forgotten. “You can call her Bubby.”
I remember the name from the inscription on the little cat in Mandy’s cubical, but I laugh anyway. “Oh, I doubt I can. It’s too silly.”
Chapter Fourteen
Mandy
After I let us into Bubby’s place, Christian stares around him like he has never been in an apartment so small and cluttered. His eyes settle on the orange and brown macramé wall hanging my grandmother made in the 70s,’ and the look of distaste he has on his face almost makes me laugh. He is such a snob; too bad I’m totally obsessed with him.
