Page 7 of Wreck Me

Dinner with my parents is usually migraine-inducing. Since I relocated to the other side of the state to work at the Western office last year, they’ve chartered their private jet into Forks one other time besides tonight to force dinner down my throat. It’s six p.m. when I pull up to the restaurant they’ve chosen for our family bonding time, and based on the valet-only parking, I’m sure I’m going to just love the overly ornate decorations, lavish furnishings, and one-bite, twenty-course meal we’re going to share. I mentally clock how many burger joints I passed on the way here so that I can actually eat dinner tonight.

The hostess greets me with a bright smile as I walk up to the marble stand she’s occupying, and after I share my name, she nods and leads me through the dining room to my inevitable slaughter. Adjusting my tie, I mentally preparemyself to survive the next two hours while my dad bounces between talking about himself and degrading me, and my mother drinks away her existence in a bottle of expensive wine.

My dad keeps my mom on a long leash, but there is no arguing who’s in charge, and she knows not to bite the hand that feeds her. She likes to walk around with a stick shoved up her ass and behaves like a snooty, holier-than-thou queen bee. With her spending, lavish lifestyle, and trips abroad with her girlfriends, she plays the part of the dutiful wife to maintain the lifestyle that my father supports with his credit card. She was never an affectionate mother, and I look at her with the same regard I would a stranger on the street.

My steps falter as the hostess turns to present the table and its occupants to me, including a young, blonde, too-thin female turning in purposeful slow motion to give me her rehearsed million-dollar smile. I’d rather be staring at a slaughtered pig than the girl sitting with my parents. I do my best not to groan out loud, but my mind is flashing a bright neon sign that says Get Out Now, Finn!

“Griffin!” Her voice is fake and overly sweet, which grates on the current throb that is expanding in the center of my brain. “I’m so happy to see you.”

The feeling is not mutual.

“Surprised to see you here, Lexi.” I nod to her before picking up my cloth napkin and taking my seat next to her, across from my father.

“Son. I said six. It’s six fifteen.”

“Is it? I didn’t notice. There was traffic, which may surprise you, but it was out of my control.” My tongue is a little looser this evening upon seeing Lexi Fairchild here with my parents. My dad’s jaw tics in frustration, and I know I’ll pay for it later. But he won’t berate me too badly in front of Lexi. One point for me, I suppose, even if this night just took a turn. Not surewhich I would rather: an evening of my father’s verbal abuse, or one where he pushes a relationship with his attorney’s daughter onto me. Is an ice pick to the eye an option? Cause I’d take that first.

To make matters worse, my father knows I’m gay. He just refuses to believe it and thinks all I need is a little persuasion from a female of his choosing. Enter Lexi. Who, I’m assuming, doesn’t know that I’m not into females, or knows and doesn’t care either way because of my last name. Don’t give a shit to find out.

My mom finishes off her first glass of wine for the evening and waves down the waiter, who places an ice-cold water in front of me.

“Lexi was gracious enough to join us for dinner to see you, Griffin. Isn’t that lovely?”

Lovely? Does he know the definition of the word? I wouldn’t use lovely and Lexi Fairchild in the same sentence. But I have to play the part or make my life that much more difficult later.

“Thanks for joining us,” I say, keeping my voice monotone and uninterested, refusing eye contact with her.

“I’m just happy to see you. How are you settling in over here? I can’t imagine living on this side of the state is enjoyable, it’s very . . . what’s the word without coming across as rude? Modest? I suppose?”

As if I haven’t been living here for months. The Fairchilds live in the same multimillion-dollar neighborhood as my parents, fifteen minutes outside of Seattle. They flew here on my father’s private jet for fuck’s sake. I’m sure modest is exactly the word she’s looking for. My eyes roll as I take a sip of my cold water. The main office building for the magazine is in Seattle, but we have a small office space on the west side and one further east. My dad will randomly pop into all of thebuildings and wreak havoc, but he dislikes this one the most. Which is another check mark in the ‘it’s my favorite location’ box.

“Definitely love it over here. Considering staying on a more permanent basis.”

My dad’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, and I don’t bother restraining the smile that lifts my lips. Asshole. If he thinks I want to be back near Seattle and under his thumb, he’s mistaken.

“Lexi, how is work?”

“Oh, you know, I work constantly. Lawyer life, right? Griffin, did I tell you that I’m a lawyer? Daddy is so proud, and I just love working with him. You know, your dad is our biggest client.”

Of course I know this, Lexi; you’ve only told me during every interaction we’ve ever had.

The waitress returns and takes our orders. My mom hasn’t said a word, tossing back her third glass of wine while we wait for the meal, Lexi filling any silence that could have let my headache settle. My father asks her questions while I stare out the window, my mind drifting to Carter, wondering what he’s doing right now. Food comes and goes, and then my dad pushes Lexi at me. Again.

“We should get your mother home at a decent hour. Lexi should stay. Show her some sights tomorrow? We can charter the jet to come pick her up.”

I nearly choke on my saliva at the suggestion.

“That won’t work for me. I have back-to-back business meetings, and I’m scheduled to scope out a few potential locations for the upcoming fall season features that you’re waiting on before I leave for Emberleigh.” I would do just about anything to get out of spending more time with his choice of a wife for me.

Lexi lets out an annoyingly fake whine that she thinks is making her cute as a kitten, but it really grates like nails on a chalkboard. My father gives me a long, annoyed look that I brush off. We say our goodbyes, my zombie mother walking surprisingly well for polishing off a bottle of wine by herself, and I watch as they step aside to observe the forced interaction between me and stuck-up Barbie.

Lexi hugs me, plastering her boney-ass little body against mine while I keep my hands loose at my sides, refusing to touch her and give her any ammunition that I could possibly be interested in her. I should feel bad for being rude, but she’s been brainwashed by her father, and she’s a gold digger through and through. Just like my mother. Just like hers. I want a simple life, and even if I was straight, I would make Lexi miserable.

The women climb into the car while my dad gets too close for comfort, puffing out his chest, his face transforming to the one he reserves for me.

“Don’t fucking embarrass me again. You will try with Lexi because it is a good match, and you need a wife. Stay the fuck away from Aspen Ridge, Griffin. Or you’ll regret the day you were born,” he snarls.

“Got it, Dad. Understood. Have a good night.”

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