“Have you ever gotten lost in here?” she whispers under her breath.
“Yes,” I admit, laughing a little at how absurd it is.
You should grow up in a home, not a museum, but that’s all this is.
“Did you ever have any pets?”
I snort. “And have muddy paws running amok in this place? Absolutely not. But like I said, I was at school most of the time and during the summers we traveled. Even for most holidays we weren’t here.”
“That’s…”
“Sad?” I supply.
She looks up at me with a melancholy expression. “I was going to say depressing, so yeah, same thing. I can’t imagine growing up with such coldness.”
“It’s all I know.” My voice is a little gruff, my throat clogged with emotion. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. I have my friends. I have you.”
“Y-Yeah,” she stutters, that flicker in her eyes like she’s not sure if I’m being serious or just playing a part. It shows how much she still doesn’t know me yet, because I have a hard time being anything other than real.
We get closer to the formal living room where I know my parents will be waiting. A staff member gives me a head nod as he walks past and Vanessa gasps.
“Yes,” I sigh heavily, “we have full-time staff.”
“I swear this place is as big as Disney World.” She looks around and around trying to take it all in, my grip on her hand tightening because whether she knows it or not, she’s my lifeline right now. Not because she’s playing the part of my fake-girl, but her presence is a soothing balm to having to deal with my father.
“It’s pretty big,” I mutter in agreement.
She hasn’t even seen anything but the maze of halls. There’s an indoor pool. Two outdoor pools. A tennis and basketball court. A guest house that’s the size of a regular house. There’s even a bowling alley in the basement.
My dad’s deep voice booms as we round the next hall, my grip on Vanessa’s hand tight enough to cut off circulation, but if it’s bothering her, she doesn’t say.
“My parents are very formal,” I hurriedly whisper under my breath. “Just refer to them as Mr. and Mrs. McCallister.”
She tugs on my hand, urging me to stop in the hallway. I tuck her against a column, using my body to shield her from staff walking by and my parents if they’d happen to leave the living room.
A jolt runs through me when she places her hands on my cheeks. “We’re in this together. You and me. Right?” I jerk my head in a nod. “Good.” She leans up on her tiptoes, still not tall enough in her heels to reach my ear. “I’ve got you.”
I swallow thickly when she falls back to her regular height, her eyes holding mine captive. She sees how much I hate being here, how much I don’t want to do this or put her through this, and she’s still got my back.
I don’t know what fucking miracle sent her my way but I’m eternally grateful for it.
Raising her hand to my lips, I place a gentle kiss to her knuckles, not missing the tiny gasp that catches in her throat.
“Teddy, we know you’re here!” My father calls out in that commanding voice of his, the one that demands that you do what he wants and do it now.
A staff member gives a tiny whimper as she runs by even though he’s not shouting at her.
For now.
I’ve never brought anyone here. Not my friends and certainly not a girl since I’ve never dated. But Vanessa is about to face the lion’s den with me, and I know she thinks the favor she’s doing pales to the money I shelled out for her school payment, but she’s wrong.
I count to three, and then the two of us walk into the massive formal living room. There’s a grand fireplace that’s the center focal point of the room and my father paces in front of it, a glass of brandy gripped loosely between his fingers.
“There you are. Took you long enough.”
“Yes, well, it’s been a while. I got lost in the halls,” I snap, sarcasm dripping from my words.
My mom stands from the couch, her dress rippling around her long legs as she glides toward us. “Ah, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Lenora, Teddy’s mother. My son lacks manners and didn’t tell us your name.”
She takes my mom’s offered hand and says, “I’m Vanessa. It’s really nice to meet you. Teddy speaks highly of you both.”
Across the room my father makes some sort of noise that’s too dignified to be called a snort, but close enough, and downs his brandy. “I highly doubt that. Teddy doesn’t think too fondly of us.”
My mom frowns, and I feel a tug of guilt. She’s not perfect, but she’s not him, and I don’t like hurting her.
My father crosses the room in a few long strides.
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. McCallister.” Vanessa extends her hand to him and he looks down at it as if it’s a wild snake, ready to strike.
“I’d say ‘likewise’ but considering my son has never brought home a woman before and just so happened to conveniently announce he had a girlfriend when I caught three naked women in his room, you’ll find that I’m a little lacking in the believability department. My son doesn’t do monogamy, especially not with someone so…” He looks her up and down. “Inferior and lacking in good breeding.”
Good breeding? For fuck’s sake.
I snarl, my lips pulling back from my teeth. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“Hmm,” he hums, his eyes glassy. It’s obvious he’s already a few drinks deep. “Are there some feelings in that heart of yours? Ones that don’t revolve around chasing tail and getting into as much trouble as possible?”
Vanessa squeezes my hand and when I look down at her I find that her shoulders are straight and there’s a fire in her eyes. She refuses to be affected by anything my father says, and while I’m grateful for that, it doesn’t lessen the anger I feel because he has no right to spew his hateful shit.
Cocking my head to the side, I level him with a challenging look. “I learned from the best,” I tell him. “After all, I was only six when I first caught your secretary with her legs in the air on your desk.”
My mom squeaks, her hand flying to her chest. She’s not surprised by my confession. She’s well aware of my father’s multiple affairs and tolerates them because it means she doesn’t have to deal with his unwanted advances and can go on spending the family money. Sometimes I wonder how she ever tolerated him long enough to make me.
A muscle in my father’s jaw clenches, his knuckles white against his glass. He lifts it, downing the rest of the amber colored liquid. In a hushed whisper he grinds out, “You ungrateful little bastard—”
“Dinner is served.”
“Ah,” my mom jumps on the welcome distraction, “dinner. Let’s eat.”
Vanessa and I follow them into the dining room, sitting at the custom twenty-foot table. Every single thing in this mansion is larger than life, all for show.
The first course is set in front of us, and I inconspicuously use my pinky to point to the correct fork when I see Vanessa’s panic-stricken expression.
Silence reigns around us. My mom is probably scared to broach a conversation, my father is still recovering from our verbal sparring. Vanessa, by some miracle, doesn’t look like she’s ready to flee out the front door. Not that she’d even be able to find it since it’s so easy to take a wrong turn in this place.