Page 44 of Personal Foul

“You really can’t find someone to bring?” Sarcastic disbelief drips from every word. “I mean, fine. Don’t bring a date. It’s your funeral, though. With Dad getting ready to make a bid for governor, they’re going to be working extra hard to pair you up with someone whose family would be politically expedient. And what better place to do it than at their oldest’s engagement party?”

I grunt. “So he’s decided to go for governor huh?”

“Yeah. He said the timing works better for him, and either one is a good stepping stone to president.”

Another grunt. Victoria’s right. The last thing I want is my mom playing matchmaker, especially when they’ll only be looking for someone to match me with who would benefit them, not someone I might actually like.

I don’t think they’d force me to date someone I actively hated, but they’d definitely badger me into public appearances with someone I could tolerate. And then, of course, I wouldn’t be able to have a normal dating life. Because even if I weren’t really dating whoever they tried to set me up with, if we were linked in the press, everyone would assume I was cheating on her. Which would cause a scandal. Which would hurt Dad’s political career.

I already have one fake relationship to worry about. I don’t need another.

Victoria is absolutely right that I have to bring somebody. It honestly doesn’t even matter who. As long as I have a date, I’ll be safe from Mom’s machinations.

“You realize that I’ll take longer to get the RSVP back if I have to line up a plus one.”

“Ugh, Dylan, don’t be a dick. Just check that you’re bringing someone. It’s not like you need to write her name down. You won’t have to do that until the wedding. Because we absolutely will have place cards for that reception. This is a cocktail reception, so it’ll just be passed hors d’oeuvres with an open bar and champagne for toasts.”

“At least there’ll be liquor.”

“That’s the spirit.” She pauses, and I fill in the little card and stuff it in the provided envelope. “You really have no one in mind to bring?” she asks.

With a huff, I shake my head. Obviously, I do have someone in mind. Charity is the obvious choice. I’m just not sure I can make that happen. “I’m not sure yet, Tori. I’ll let you know once I’ve got it figured out.”

“I thought you were starting to see someone the last time we talked.” She’s trying to sound sly, but she’s not fooling me.

“I have no memory of any such conversation.”

She puts on her mock pouting voice. “Aw, c’mon. Sure you do. You sound like you’re trying not to incriminate yourself on the witness stand. It’s me, your big sister. You don’t have to hide your girlfriends from me.”

“Girlfriends, plural, huh? You think I’m keeping more than one chick on the hook at a time? Or are you implying I’m poly?”

She laughs, which makes me grin. “You’re not going to distract me that easily this time, Dyl. Who is she? Tell me about her? And before you deny it again, one of your friends tagged you on a date at some axe throwing place. Which, we’ll get to the wisdom ofthatchoice in a minute. After you tell me about what woman would be willing to go on a date at a place like that.” She gasps. “Ohhhhh … is that why you don’t want to bring her? Is she too much of a lumberjack? She wouldn’t fit in with Mom and Dad’s social circle? Are you embarrassed by her?” She tsks. “For shame. You should hold your head high, proud to have any woman on your arm who you deem worthy of your time.”

“Oh my god, Victoria.” I started cracking up about halfway through that speech. “Number one, axe throwing was a lot of fun, thank you very much. Plus, it was a double date, so an expensive, romantic restaurant was out of the question.Andshe said she thought an activity would be better for a double date than just boring old dinner and a movie.”

“But youareashamed of her.”

Sighing, the laughter drains out of me. “No. I’m not ashamed of her. She’s not a lumberjack. In fact, I’ll have you know that I won the game we played.”

She gasps dramatically. “You meanyou’returning into a lumberjack? No wonder you’re delaying sending in your RSVP. You don’t want Mom and Dad to know their precious baby boy is deviating from the cultured ideals in which they raised him.”

Chuckling again, I shake my head at my sister. She has the ability to pull me out of my head better than just about anyone.

But she’s right about Mom and Dad probably not approving of Charity. And Charity not fitting in. Obviously she’s not a lumberjack, but she never fit in at Skyline Academy. Though, to be fair, I don’t think she tried all that hard. Maybe she would’ve if she had …

I also don’t think she really wanted to fit in. She seemed to resent being there, and now that I know she’s been hiding her family’s wealth from her friends … she apparently wishes she still had that middle class suburban life her friends’ families do.

Andthat’swhy she wouldn’t fit in at Victoria’s engagement party, which is being thrown as much to rub elbows with Seattle’s elite as it is to celebrate Victoria and Cameron. They’re just providing a convenient excuse. With Dad making a bid to run for governor, if it weren’t an engagement party, they’d find some other cause to throw a party for to start the soft launch of that run, with an official announcement coming later once the rumors have started flying.

Add in the fact that Charity’s dad is being investigated for insider trading?

Yeah, no way would Mom and Dad want that attached to our family’s squeaky clean reputation.

“Dylan?” Victoria interrupts my thoughts. “Cameron’s calling, so I gotta go. Send in the RSVP card tomorrow! Talk soon.”

And with that, she’s off the phone, and I’m left with the faint sense that I really have no choice about what to do about Charity.

It’s time to cut my losses and move on.

---