Page 61 of The CEO I Hate

“Actually, my car’s just fine—” I tried to say, but Mom barreled right over me, as usual.

“At least she’s here on time for once. Liam, I insist you join us for dinner. The two of you can go ahead into the dining room. I’ll just grab another plate.” With that, she headed toward the kitchen.

“He didn’t just drive me, Mom, we’re toge—” I called after her, but she disappeared into the kitchen without even looking back. Liam grabbed my hand and squeezed, lacing our fingers together. I looked down, losing my train of thought.

“What’s that thing writers are always saying?” he murmured. “Show, don’t tell?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. I tugged him down the hall after me, toward the dining room.

“Liam!” Dad called as we entered. “Wasn’t expecting you! How’s the old show business?”

Liam released me to shake my dad’s hand. I spaced out, getting a good look at the man who had taken toilet-Paul’s spot. He was pale, almost unnaturally so, with thin, wispy hair—most of it growing out of his ears—and dressed in a slightly oversized black suit.

“Booming,” Liam said, bringing me back to reality. “We’re in the thick of pre-production on season two.”

“Sounds terrifying,” Dad joked. “Not that I understand how any of that razzle dazzle works—but as long as it pays off for you, that’s what matters, right?” He finally looked over to me. “And there’s my princess. Bill, this is our daughter, Mia.”

Bill stood, reaching across the table for my hand. “She’s as lovely as you said, Frank.”

I gritted my teeth as I reached for his hand. His skin was papery. The irritation only eased as Liam’s hand curled around my hip. His free hand reached out to shake Bill’s as he introduced himself. “And what do you do, Bill?” Liam asked.

He sat and swirled his glass of wine. “I’m in the business of bodies.”

“Only the dead ones,” Dad quipped. “Bill’s a mortician down at Valley Funeral Home.”

Liam squeezed my hip, whispering “Ew, bodies” in my ear when everyone had looked away.Oh, for the love of?—

“Here,” Liam said, pulling out my chair.

“Thanks,” I whispered. Was it too late to run and hide in the Porsche? My mother, who had already bustled in and out with a place setting for Liam, waltzed back into the room, a steaming casserole dish held between two oven mitts.

“Who’s hungry?”

For the next hour and a half, we ate while Bill regaled us with the intricacies of embalming bodies. When he asked me whether I’d prefer a traditional casket or cremation, Liam choked on his casserole so badly, I had to thump him on the back. He slurped at his water, hiding his laughter in his glass.

“I figure I still have some time to think about it,” I said as politely as I could manage.

Bill hummed. “It’s never too soon. You should see how many young people come across my table.”

“Oh, good to know,” I said as my stomach soured. I tried to imagine being the wife of a mortician. Would we both walk around smelling like embalming fluid?Ugh, what a horrible thought. But I reached whole new realms of horror when Bill cleared his throat, looked me dead in the eye, and asked me on a date.

I spluttered on my words. “Bill, I’m…I’m sorry. There must have been some miscommunication.” I leaned into Liam’s side. Had the fact that we’d walked in holding hands escaped everyone’s attention? “I’m here with Liam. We’re together.”

Bill blinked at me, a horrible awkwardness settling over the table. “Your mother told me you were single and desperate.”

Irritation surged through me. “Well, she was mistaken.”

“What Mia means,” my mother said diplomatically, trying to save face, “is that she and Liam are old friends. Actually, he’s really friends with my son. Have we told you about Jake yet?”

“WhatMiameans…” I said, rising to my feet, “…is that she’s going home.” I turned, marching out of the dining room, not stopping to see if Liam had followed, though I could hear him thanking my parents curtly for thelovelymeal.

I, meanwhile, couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

By the time I’d reached the porch, I was desperate for fresh air. I felt likeIwas the one being stuffed in some coffin, locked away from the life I wanted to live. I was shaking and didn’t know whether I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the entire evening or burst into tears.

Both, probably. But I held my composure because Liam appeared, placing a hand on my shoulder, and I knew I couldn’t have a breakdown in frontof him. Tonight was mortifying enough. I hugged my arms to my chest.

“You okay?” he asked.

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