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CHAPTERFIFTEEN
NELL
I tuggedBlake behind me in the direction he pointed, telling me where our table was located. We were seated with my family, which I shouldn’t find surprising, but I did. My mom and brother were already sitting at the table, and the fifth chair didn’t have a place card in front of it. So, I assumed that it was an extra.
Blake pulled my chair out for me, and I tucked my gown under me as I tried to sit as delicately as possible. I could feel my family’s eyes on us as we moved, scrutinizing every casual touch, the way we moved when we were around each other.
And honestly, it only made me want to touch him more.
Maybe that was the leftover remnants of my rebellious defiance of them. Or, maybe it had nothing to do with that at all and everything to do with the fact that Blake was devastatingly handsome, and I was enjoying being around him more than I had thought I would.
As soon as we were seated, an announcement was made that the first course for dinner would be brought out soon and for people to begin making their way to their tables.
We all made small talk as we waited, me filling my mother and brother in on life at the gallery. For what it was worth, my mother refrained from making a single face while I talked about my life and job.
She didn’t exactly look pleased, but she didn’t look like someone had just stuck a bag of crap under her nose, either.
So, I would take the small wins where I could.
As dinner was set before us, the conversation died out a little as we all began to eat. Jourdan and Blake talked excitedly about some new project that they would be launching soon, some kind of development or another, and I gladly tuned them out.
My mother appeared to be doing the same, staring at her plate as she took small, delicate bites. I glanced back at the empty seat at our table. It was closer to me than she currently was.
I wasn’t sure why I did it. Maybe it was some misguided attempt at a truce as I met her gaze and patted the seat of the chair, a clear offering for her to switch places and to sit by me.
Jourdan and Blake were ignoring us anyways, so talking to my mother was a better option than just sitting with her in silence.
She looked shocked for a moment before nodding and moving herself and her plate to the chair, and then she scooted it even closer to me.
Blake’s hand came to rest on my thigh, the warmth of his unexpected touch shocking me as I glanced down at it. He gave my leg a reassuring squeeze, and I placed my hand on top of his, hoping that we didn’t appear too awkward as I toyed with his fingers and the back of his hand and turned my attention back to my mom.
“So,” I said, racking my brain for any topic I could bring up to her that wouldn’t be nauseating to talk about. “You’ve heard all about life at the gallery.” She pursed her lips slightly, but I continued as if I hadn’t noticed. “What is going on with you these days?”
She cocked her head at me, considering. “What do you mean?”
“Have you been dating anyone? Sitting on the board of any charities? Any new hobbies?” I listed off topic after topic that I thought might keep her busy and in a safe territory. “There are all kinds of things that could be new. It’s been a long time.”
“It has.” Her eyes grew sad as they roved over my face, and I fought not to squirm in my seat.
Blake must have sensed my sudden apprehension because he squeezed my leg again like he was trying to press his strength into me, and I found myself thankful for it.
“So?” I prompted, giving my mother a pointed look.
The woman sighed, the sadness fading from her expression as she tossed a lock of glossy, auburn hair over her shoulder.
“I’m not dating anyone,” she answered quickly like she wanted to get the words out as fast as possible. “I haven’t dated anyone since Francis passed.”
At the mention of my stepfather, I winced. He had passed away from a sudden heart attack right before I went no contact with my mom and Jourdan. My own dad had died when I was one, and Jourdan was four, so neither of us remembered him.
Francis had been the only father figure either of us had ever had. He had been stern and not affectionate in the slightest. He had expected perfection from me and my brother, and he used any opportunity he could to remind us of that.
Of course, that also meant he had found me to be a glaring disappointment. But as much as he had been a hard ass to us, he had loved my mom brilliantly. And I knew that losing him had been hard for her.
“It’s been six years, Mom,” I said hesitantly, watching her face for the slightest sign that I was going too far. “You know you’re allowed to date again.”
“I know.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “I just don’t want to.”
I nodded and then tried to think of some way that I could change the subject.
