Chapter 5 - Dinner Deception

Letisha’s POV

A surprised laugh slipped from my lips. The awkward patting on my back paused…and then stopped entirely as he held onto my arms and gently pulled me away.

He watched me with such careful wariness, that another laugh bubbled in my throat, before spilling over. I laughed until my shoulders shook with its force, and my stomach ached. I doubled over, holding my stomach in an effort to calm down.

My comforting companion probably thought I was crazy. I couldn’t blame him either. I was acting as if I was crazy. I had gone from crying to cursing, back to crying, and now I was laughing like a maniac. But it was much better to focus on the ridiculousness of his words than the sudden mess of my life. Laughing was a much better option than crying.

“Are…are you okay?” he finally asked.

Trying to suppress my laughter, I straightened, and my gaze focused on his. I was right. He was looking at me as if I had lost my mind.

“Yeah,” I answered, “I’m fine.”

“You were crying,” he pointed out.

I was a bit embarrassed now that I imagined how I must’ve appeared to him.

“I know. But still…you’ll never leave me? How could you say that to a complete stranger?”

“You were crying,” he repeated. This time, the words were uttered as an excuse, as if that was enough to justify his words. His eyes narrowed in a reproving scowl, but the faint tinge of red across his jaw lessened the effect. Was he embarrassed by his earlier words? And how could someone who possessed such an intimidating aura and reeked of masculine confidence also manage to look adorable when he was embarrassed?

He probably wouldn’t appreciate being considered adorable, so I kept my mouth shut on that.

As for his earlier words…I guess it would be in bad form for me to keep teasing him.

“Thank you,” I whispered more seriously. “I know you were just trying to comfort me.”

“Hmm,” he mumbled, looking away. The blush on his jaw deepened as he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Well…I’ve saved your life, cursed at you, and cried in your arms, but I still don’t know your name. ”

He returned his gaze to mine and had a contemplative look on his face before finally responding. “You can call me Adrian.”

I stretched my hand to his. “Nice to meet you, Adrian. I’m Letisha Sanchez.”

He stared down at my outstretched hand as if he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Finally, he accepted it in a firm handshake.

I took a moment to assess him briefly. While he still looked worse for wear with rumpled hair and a torn and bloody shirt, his complexion had lost its earlier pastiness from blood loss. Either he had some magical healing abilities, or that soup had been an elixir.

“Are you feeling much better?”

He nodded. “I managed to get some rest. I’m fine now.”

I glanced down at his side that I’d bandaged earlier. He’d redone the buttons on his shirt so it was obscured, but he did look as fine as he said he was.

“I lost my phone…earlier,” Adrian said suddenly.

“Huh?”

“I wanted to call my per—uh…my friend. But I lost my phone. That’s why I’m still here.”

I winced in embarrassment, remembering my inhospitable words earlier. “I didn’t mean you should leave.”

“What?” his eyes widened in surprise.

“I mean, I’m not saying you should stay,” I rushed to explain. “I meant earlier when I asked why you were still here. I didn’t mean to sound like I wanted you to leave. I was just startled…”

“Right…” he responded with a look of confusion.

Of course, he was confused at my babbling. “Right. Phone,” I mumbled and pulled my phone from my pocket before handing it to him. “You can use this.”

Suddenly feeling awkward, I bent to pick up the pillow I’d used to assault Adrian and replaced it on the bed. Then, I started straightening the sheets.

I spun around when Adrian cleared his throat.

“He’s on his way,” he said, returning the phone.

“Oh. Great,” I replied, forcing a casual smile. I couldn’t identify the feeling I experienced at the thought of him leaving, but it almost felt like sadness, which was ridiculous. I’d laughed at his words about staying with me earlier because they had sounded ridiculous coming from this stranger, but wasn’t it equally absurd to be sad that he was leaving?

“Are you sure you—”

His words were cut off when the phone in my hand rang.

I frowned down when my father’s name flashed across the screen.

Had he only just now realized I wasn’t staying at the house?

“Excuse me,” I muttered to Adrian as I answered the call.

“Father,” I answered, walking over to the lone window in the room. There weren’t that many options to put distance between myself and Adrian in this tiny room.

“Where are you?” John yelled.

“I—”

“You know what? I don’t care where you are. Your sister said you hit her! Over some silly boy. You will return home and apologize to her this instant!”

To call the emotions that slammed into me anger and hurt would have been an understatement. I closed my eyes and released a slow breath to calm myself.

“Apologize?” I repeated incredulously. No doubt Fiona had run home and related some twisted tale that painted me as the villain. It was her usual way. But something told me even if my father knew the whole truth, he would still be on my stepsister’s side.

And that was the painful truth.

“She was the one who hit me! Why should I apologize to her?”

“You’re always causing problems for this family, Letisha. Why do you have to be so difficult? Your sister is young, and it’s your duty to protect her, not bully her.”

She was only a few months younger than me. But it wouldn’t have mattered if she was still a wayward teenager, she’d been as vicious then as she was now.

“Are you really defending her right now? Do you even know what she did?”

“I’m telling you to come home. Will you do it willingly? Or must I drag you back—?”

I ended the call before I could hear the rest of his words.

I felt like tossing the device through the window just so I wouldn’t have to get another call from that horrid man. I felt like punching someone—preferably Fiona. I felt like screaming. I felt like crying.

Instead, I stared silently out at the starlit sky and wondered when this disastrous day would end.

My phone started ringing again. I cursed silently when I saw Gabriella’s name on the screen. Had he passed the baton to his wife? Did he think being threatened by both of them would increase the likelihood of me bending to their demands?

I watched as the phone went silent before it immediately started ringing again. I was tempted to switch it off, but I knew I couldn’t keep it off indefinitely. I had to find a job while I was on break from school. My suddenly disastrous life didn't mean I could ignore my reality.

I decided to answer my phone when it started up for the third time.

“Letisha? Are you there?” Gabriella’s voice sounded soft and placating.

The unfamiliar tone piqued my curiosity. It didn’t sound like she intended to blame me for her daughter’s misdeeds like my father did.

“Mother,” I answered reflexively.

“I know you must be feeling wronged. I’ve talked to your father, and he’s calmed down. I wanted to apologize.”

My brows wrinkled in suspicion. “Apologize?”

“I heard what you said. That Fiona hit you. And then your father went ahead and blamed you like that,” she sighed as if she was distraught by the entire situation. “I wanted to invite you to dinner tomorrow. I think we should all have a meal together as a family. So John and I can apologize properly.”

Gabriella had never apologized for anything in all the years I’d known her. And she didn’t believe her daughter was capable of any wrong. She was definitely up to something.

“Are you there?” she pressed when I remained silent.

I was under no illusions about my stepmother, and after today, I was beginning to lose the little hope I’d had that my father would change one day. So, I doubted this dinner was their way of apologizing.

I sighed tiredly. If I didn’t go to this dinner, they wouldn't leave me alone, would they?

“Okay. Dinner sounds fine.”

~

The next evening, I arrived at the address of the restaurant Gabriella had made reservations for, and the host quickly showed me to a private dining area.

I paused at the entrance when I saw all three of them were already seated. My father barely acknowledged me with a glance, and Fiona had her ever-present smirk in place as she nibbled on her appetizer.

I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. I’d never been welcomed in their presence before, but I had anticipated some semblance of acknowledgment since they had called this meeting with the supposed intention of apologizing.

“Letisha. I’m happy you could make it,” Gabriella said, offering me a smile. “Please sit.”

At least someone was in the mood to act. I took a seat, and the server poured me a drink before leaving the room.

“Well, I’m here,” I said when everyone remained silent.

Gabriella exchanged a meaningful look with her daughter, who lost her smirk momentarily.

I guessed she wasn’t too keen on this apology nonsense.

“Fiona. Apologize to your sister,” Gabriella scolded when Fiona remained stubbornly.

I glanced at my father, who remained quiet while avoiding my gaze.

“Sorry,” Fiona finally muttered, rolling her eyes.

I waited. And waited.

“That’s it?” I finally wondered aloud.

“What?” Fiona snapped.

“It’s just that you all called me all the way out here to apologize. And all I get is a measly sorry? What exactly are you sorry for, Fiona?”

“Letisha! Don’t push it!” she retorted angrily.

“Why shouldn’t I? You slept with my boyfriend. You hit me. And then you ran home to our father and spun a tall tale. Are you denying you did all those things?”

“You—!”

“Am I supposed to be satisfied with a simple ‘sorry’?”

I flinched when John slapped his hand down on the table heavily, causing the delicate china to rattle.

“Must you always be difficult?” he gritted, finally bringing his eyes to mine. Though the color was the same as mine, I finally allowed myself to admit I was staring into the eyes of a stranger.

“Michael and I love each other, Letisha. I can’t apologize for the way we feel about each other. I’m sorry I hit you. I only did that because you were trying to hit me first. I was only defending myself. Besides, you’re an engaged woman now. Are you really going to argue over another man?”

My eyes narrowed at her words. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Fiona!” Gabriella scolded.

“What? She’s going to find out eventually. Our guest is almost here.”

A feeling of dread settled in the pit of my stomach. “What guest?”

As if to answer my question, the door to our dining room opened, and the host entered first, followed by an older man.

He was tall and heavyset, and only seemed slightly older than my father. His thinning brown hair was interrupted by streaks of grey at his temple. His neatly trimmed mustache was the same color as his hair. He was dressed in an expensive-looking suit, and the gold rings on his finger, as well as the sparkling watch on his wrist, were a blatant display of wealth. His calculative brown eyes roamed about the room before settling on me.

I shifted uncomfortably under his regard.

“Robert! Happy you could make it!” my father greeted jovially. It was in stark contrast to the stoic man I’d seen when I’d entered the room. Unlike when I’d arrived, all three of them stood to welcome this man my father had called Robert. If my father’s reception was anything to go by, he was obviously someone important.

“Sorry, I was late, John. I had a meeting with the general manager of the Huntington Group. We were discussing a possible collaboration.”

I had no idea why he’d needed to provide all that information, but he’d said it in a self-important tone, as if everyone who heard it should be properly impressed.

My father and stepmother seemed impressed enough if their smiles were anything to go by.

“Splendid. I hope it went well. This is my daughter, Letisha.”

I was so shocked by my sudden involvement in this conversation that I didn’t react in time when my father grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. To greet his new guest.

I didn’t react in time when the said guest took my hand in his and smiled at me.

“The lovely Letisha,” he drolled, bringing the back of my hand to his lips. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

What. The. Hell?!