Page 117 of For Better or Hearse
Beneath the table, Nathaniel takes her hand. Only, it slips like a limp noodle from his grasp. She can feel his burning gaze on her face, but she refuses to look at him. What is she doing here? What is she doing with him?
The realization sinks into her skin like acid. She isn’t meantfor this. She doesn’t belong here. With the Whitfords. She’s too different. Especially for Nathaniel. Suddenly, everything feels wrong. Her dress. Her skin. Nathaniel’s hand grasping hers again.
Claire forces a smile, desperately searching for a topic. “So, uh, Nathaniel, are you all set for Peru?”
Silence.
Nathaniel glares at his father.
Ash takes a sip of water, then sets down the glass. “Did you know this used to be a morgue?” she says, trying to help out Claire. Trying to take that awful look off Nathaniel’s face. Trying to salvage what’s left of this dinner party from hell. For Augustus. That’s why she’s here. For him.
Claire’s face creases in distress at the news, and then she fakes a smile. “Really? That is fascinating. Don’t you think, Don?”
Ignoring his wife and Ash, Don leans forward. “Let me tell you something, Nate. You go out and hide yourself away on a—”
Ash slams a hand down. Every person at the table jumps.
“Nathaniel,” Ash snaps.
She can’t take it anymore. The botching of his name.
Don rears back. “Excuse me?”
“Your son’s name is Nathaniel.” She enunciates each syllable. Glares. “He hates being called Nate.”
The table’s silent. Barely breathing.
Every eye is on Ash, but she stares at Don calmly.
He reddens, embarrassment staining his expression. He looks directly at her. Hell must have frozen over, because it’s the first time Don’s acknowledged her existence.
Then he chuckles scathingly. “Augustus, why is she here? I know she’s one of those weird woo-woo types, but I could do without.” His nostrils flare as he draws forward again. “You’ve already ruined things for my son, but there’s no need for you to ruin this vacation too.”
There’s an audible gasp from Claire.
Even seated, Nathaniel’s stance turns bodyguard-like. His eyes narrow dangerously. “I know you didn’t say that to her.”
Tater winces. He slumps low and lazy in his chair, his gaze bouncing from Nathaniel’s furious face to his father’s. “That’s a good way to get smacked, dawg.”
“Stop acting like a tyrant, Don, and shut up,” Claire snaps.
Don blinks at the fury in his wife’s voice.
“Leave the poor girl alone,” she says. “One nice night. It’s all I asked for.”
Ash squeezes her eyes shut to block out the noise. She can feel her villain era returning to her like a rogue wave.
“Apologize,” comes a hard voice.
Ash opens her eyes, certain the demand is directed at her, but it’s not.
Nathaniel’s staring daggers at his father. “Apologize to her now.”
“It’s fine.” Her heart hammers with adrenaline. Her chest is tight with rage. “I’m fine.”
In fact, she’s only getting started.
She’s not doing it again. Letting someone knock her down for being her. She’s fed up with every single word that comes out of Don’s stupid ass mouth.