Page 95 of Ink & Ambition

“Hey!” I groan. I know it took a lot for us to get to where we are but she was just as much a part of the decision as I was.Rude, sunshine. “Let’s go. Dad’s downstairs and he’s itching to eat.”

“I’m sure he is,” Drew mutters, shutting off his gaming device and storing his equipment in its appropriate charging stations. “How did he react to Margot here?”

“Oh, the usual. Ignorance.”

Drew sighs. “Classic Oliver.” He leaves the room, giving Margot a nod as he passes by. She’s looking at me in a curious way.

“What?”

“You guys have really had it rough, haven’t you?”

I walk up to her, slinging my arm around her shoulder as I guide her to the door. “Well, as Cherry Valence once said ‘Things are rough all over’.”

Margot squeezes up closer to me as we both exit the room and head back downstairs for the meal of a lifetime.

We sit at the table and I realize we each have designated spots. We’ve been eating meals at this table for my entire life and every time Dad sits at the head and Drew and I flank his sides. Margot sits at my side and I move my chair a little bit closer to hers to present a more united front.

Dinner starts as most do, with boring small talk. Dad asks Drew about his grades and he mumbles something about needing a tutor for physics, which my father promptly ignores. The Prescott men do not ask for help. Ever.

After that discussion dies down, Oliver finally turns his sights over to me. “So, Alexander. How areyourgrades this year?”

“My grades are fine. Actually, my best class of the semester is public speaking that I have with Margot.” I reach for her hand over the table but she pulls it away. I know she’s not trying to push me away, she just wants to play it cool for my dad.

“Is that so,” he says, taking a long sip of his whiskey. “And Margot. What is your major?”

The room is silent for a moment and just when I think she’s too shocked to speak, Margot clears her throat. “I’m a journalism major.”

“So you’re the reason that my son has been messing around with this little podcast thing.”

I open my mouth to protest but Margot simply says, “Yes, sir. He’s doing me a great favor by helping me out with this. I couldn’t have done it without him.” Now she lets me grip her hand and I hold on for dear life.

“So, what you’re saying is, you’re using my son to help yourself, correct?”

“Dad,” I warn.

Margot just continues as if it’s a normal conversation and he wasn’t insinuating that she can’t do anything successful on her own. “I wouldn’t say that. When I told him about the project, he agreed to help.” Margot shrugs, taking a sip of her water. She squeezes my hand. “I mean if anything, he should be thanking me for getting him even more campus fame with this podcast.”

I cough back a laugh as I drink my water. She’s doing everything she can to stand up to my father and I love her for it.

Oliver scoffs, shaking his head. “Right. Campus fame.” He takes a large bite of his turkey. The entire spread on the table was to die for. Our chef, Rosa, never fails to produce an amazing meal. I’ll have to make sure to thank her after we finish. And take plenty of leftovers back to campus with me. I’ll make sureMargot’s fridge is full as well. Perks of having a boyfriend with a chef’s kitchen.

“Have you decided what college you want to go to, Drew?” Margot asks my brother.

He shrugs but opens his mouth to respond and is immediately cut off. “He’ll be going to TU like Alex and myself.”

Margot glances toward my father for a brief second and then back to Drew. “Is that where you want to go?”

Cutting aggressively into his lean meat, Dad says, “Doesn’t matter what he wants. He’s going to TU.”

“It doesn’t matter what he wants?”

Okay, I’m all for Margot defending herself but she’s about to stick her nose in a place she doesn’t want it to go. Oliver doesn’t back down to people questioning him. Especially people he deems to be beneath him. I squeeze her hand for a second to tell her to back down but she only pulls hers out of my grip.This isn’t going to be good.

After the conversation we had about me following my dreams and helping Drew follow his, I think Margot might’ve taken it a bit too seriously. No one talks to Oliver like this. Not even me.

“Drew wants to follow in his father and his older brother’s footsteps. Isn’t that right?” He looks over at my brother who’s looking sheepishly at his plate.

“Yep,” he says, noncommittally, but my dad nods in satisfaction.

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