Page 58 of Kissing the Debutant
Jack offered him a tight smile and turned just as a tall, blond guy in what looked like a designer suit walked up. “Jackson, right?” He gave him a dazzling smile and stuck his hand out. “I’m Corrigan. Landon Corrigan.” He winked like his Bond joke was hilarious.
Jack didn’t want to be rude, so he took his hand. “Jack, not Jackson. Just Jack.”
Landon nodded and released him. “Mrs. Preston told me to come and talk to you, and that woman scares me.”
Jack laughed. He’d successfully avoided the dragon lady all evening. “You and me both.”
“She says you might be interested in coming to play water polo at Dartmouth after you graduate. It’s a little late to apply, but my father would be happy to use his influence to—”
“Why?” Jack straightened, trying not to let the anger at Mrs. Preston’s assumptions overwhelm him. “You don’t even know me.”
“Well, yes, but I’ve known Lillian my entire life. Last year, I was her date to this ball. Truth be told, I’d have said yes again this year if she’d asked.”
Jack’s eyes found Lillian across the room. She looked so comfortable, so in her element. “And you think she needs a Dartmouth polo player?”
Landon laughed, obviously thinking it was a joke. “Lillian Preston needs to be reminded she doesn’t belong in that little town you two go to school in. That she will grow up and leave it and everything in it behind.” His eyes lost their kindness as he scrutinized Jack. Somehow, this guy knew. Jack was sure of it.
He knew Lillian had lied to her mother about who Jack was, that she was embarrassed to be here with him.
“Excuse me.” Jack took his Coke, and walked away, wishing he had Mia by his side making ridiculous jokes about Jack and Coke.
She was his people. His family was who he belonged with. For a brief moment, he’d thought Lillian belonged with them too.
Every kiss was stolen time. The night with his family was only a fantasy.
He’d wondered which side of Lillian was real. Was it the determined ballerina who wouldn’t eat junk food and argued with him when they first met?
Or was it the shy girl who loved to dance, the one who sighed into his kisses and smiled at his brother and sister?
“There you are.” Lillian walked toward him. “I didn’t know where you’d gone.”
“I told you I needed a drink.” He held up his Coke.
“Can we talk?” She ran a hand down his arm before threading their fingers together. “Please?”
Her eyes told him she knew he was upset. Maybe she’d sensed it in his stiff dancing or his silence as she made the social rounds. Whatever clued her in, reminded him that this girl did know him, and he knew her. His shoulders relaxed, and he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Yeah, we can talk.”
She smiled against his lips, deepening the kiss. And Jack let her, wondering how many more times he’d get to do this.
A throat clearing had them breaking apart to face Mrs. Preston.
A scowl flitted across her features. “Lillian, show some decorum. This is not the place.”
“Sorry, Mom.” Lillian cast her eyes to the ground.
Her mother huffed. “Now, I’ve managed to mitigate some of the social damage by fibbing on this boy’s introduction. But if you insist on acting like you have no class, it will all be for naught.” Her hard eyes scanned his ill-fitted suit.
Jack opened his mouth to say something, but shut it when Lillian’s hand squeezed his tighter. He’d hoped what he’d seen in the dance studio was an aberration. That Lillian’s mom didn’t treat her so poorly on a normal basis, and that Lillian didn’t let her.
But the strong girl he’d known seemed to wither and fade when faced with her mom.
“Thank you.” Lillian’s voice was so small Jack almost missed the words. She cleared her throat, and that was when he realized she was thanking her mother for lying about who he was. “We were going to leave before the dinner.”
“That’s a good idea.” The older woman pursed her lips.
Jack slipped his hand from Lillian’s and took a step back. Lillian’s promise of cheeseburgers wasn’t to appease him, but to hide away from the rest of the people in this room.
Mrs. Preston surveyed her daughter. “Dear, straighten your shoulders. You are a Preston, now act like it. Next weekend, I need you to come home for a charity function. Landon Corrigan has offered to escort you. I’m on the board, and my daughter must be present.”
