Page 14 of Saving Tracey
My mom came into my room, her dark brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, the waves cascading down her back. I just looked up at her blankly, not daring to show the least bit of emotion on my face.
"We're going out to eat for dinner, Tracey. Your father would like you to come along. He wants you to meet the son of his business partner."
I couldn’t help it when my eyes widened in surprise.Since when did my dad actually want me to talk to people?
My dad appeared in my doorway, and I instantly cast my eyes back down to my floor in fear and intimidation. "I've got some instructions for you." His gruff, domineering voice sent chills racing down my spine. I nodded mutely, keeping my eyes trained on the floor. "You will get along with this boy, be friends with him, and if you can, you will establish a relationship. When you become good friends with him, try to see if you can get him to convince his mother to give me a promotion, understand?"
Friend.
I had to be friends with someone.
I felt my heart constrict in pain. This wasn't going to end well. I just knew it wasn't. How was I expected to become friends with someone and also be expected to keep thousands of secrets, never being able to spill them?
That wasn't a true friend.
I nodded my head mutely at him anyway despite my feelings toward the situation, and he turned back out of my room, disappearing back down the hallway. "Wear something nice, Tracey."
Mom walked out of my bedroom with those departing words, expecting me to do as I was told. I sighed, getting up to close my bedroom door so I could get dressed in private. After walking over to my closet, I pulled down a tight, black, long-sleeve dress and black leggings. I slipped them on and pulled on my blackboots. Then, I did my usual routine of covering my body in make-up to hide all of my exposed bruises, wrapping a scarf around my neck afterward to hide the ones I couldn't hide that well on my neck. I proceeded to curl my hair, knowing my dad would expect me to do something nice with it.
When I was done, I stepped into the living room, finding both of my parents standing at the front door waiting on me. My dad was holding his keys in his hands, his eyes flashing in anger and annoyance as he landed his eyes on me. I cast my eyes down to the floor instantly, swallowing hard.
"It took you long enough." I flinched at the anger in his voice. "Already trying to ruin everything for me, huh?"
I shook my head at him, not daring to say a word for fear he would feel that I was back-talking him. He always found a problem with most things that came out of my mouth.
"I expect you to speak and hold a conversation when we get to this dinner, do you understand?" He grabbed my chin in a tight grip, making me wince as he forced my face up so my eyes met his, but I knew he would be careful not to leave a bruise. He never bruised my face. "You will not tell anyone what goes on in this house."
I nodded in understanding, and he released me instantly. We walked out to the car where my mom was already waiting. When we got to the restaurant, I was very surprised to see that it was something as simple asApplebee's. I would have thought it would have been a bit fancier for a business dinner, but I was definitely proved wrong.
My dad told the hostess who we were going to be sitting with, and we were escorted to a table where a gorgeous woman was sitting with two girls—one that I instantly recognized from school, but I couldn’t place a name to her face.
The woman stood up and shook my father's hand once we reached the table. "Mr. Olive, I'm so glad that you could make it. How are you?"
"I'm good, thank you." His voice dripped with fake enthusiasm and pleasantry, but it sounded so real. Only those of us who knew the real him would ever notice the difference.
It must seriously bruise his ego to have a woman as a boss,I thought wryly.
"My son will be with us in a moment. Why don't we sit down and order some appetizers?" She gestured to the table and the empty seats.
We all took our seats, and I sat in the seat across from the one empty chair at our table, where I assumed her son would be sitting when he got there. My mother laid her hand on my shoulder as if she was actually a loving mother. I barely held back my flinch at her touch. "Just order what you'd like, sweetie." I barely held in my cringe at the term of endearment.
I instead opted for internally cringing at the nickname but opened my menu anyway, knowing my dad would be keeping a keen ear and eye out for anything that I might say or do that he could happily punish me for later.
"Sorry that it took me so long to get here." I instantly froze at the sound of his voice. "Coach kept us late for practice."
I looked up, hoping to God that it wasn’t who I thought it was, and my eyes widened in surprise when they landed on none other than Kaleb Brinson kissing my dad's boss's cheek.
This was who I was expected to befriend?
Fuck. Me.
"It's okay, honey. We were just ordering appetizers.” Her eyes were filled with motherly love. I felt a pang of jealousy hit my chest. “How was practice?"
Sheactuallyseemed interested in his day.Was that a normal thing?
"Same as always." He took his seat and looked across the table, his eyes widening when they landed on me. "Tracey?" I cringed at the incredulity that filled his tone.
My dad's eyes bored into the side of my head. He would not be happy to know that someone knew me well enough to feel comfortable to automatically talk to me, even if said person was the one I was supposed to become friends with.
