Page 84 of The Holy Grail
“Right,” he responded with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus, what night is that supposed to be?”
“Wednesday.” Jules tilted her head. “What time will you be picking me up?”
“Is that something you really want to do? Because if it’s too soon, I can—”
“I don’t think it’s too soon for me,” she denied, even though she’d never actually met a man’s parents before, so her understanding of relationship timelines in that regard was nonexistent. “Is it too soon for you? I mean, I know it’s a bigger deal than meeting friends …”
“It doesn’t feel too soon for me.”
Even though he seemed sincere, she had to ask. “Are you sure? Because you seem sort of unenthusiastic about it.”
“It’s not that I’m unenthusiastic. It’s just that I don’t trust the dinner to actually be enjoyable with my dad being there, and I don’t want it to be a bad experience for you.”
Jules pondered that. “I appreciate your concern for me, but I’m really not worried about your father. Based on what you’ve told me about him—and how much he liked your ex-wife—he’s probably already predisposed to not liking me, so I won’t be going there hoping to impress him or try to make a perfect impression. So, knowing I’m going to just be me at dinner … does that make you feel better or worse?”
Oddly enough, her calm and unaffected attitude actually made him feel better about the dinner. She exuded a strength like no one he’d ever known and he found it unbelievably appealing. “Better. I think it will be an uncomfortable evening no matter what—because my father really can’t let anything be enjoyable, as I’m sure you’ll see firsthand—”
“And if that’s the case, and it becomes too much, then we’ll just get up and walk out.”
Malcom blinked at her.
“What? You’ve never done that before?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“It’s really easy to do, not to mention quite satisfying,” she told him, before adding with a smile, “Trust me on that.”
Chapter 26
Dinner at casa Hodge
When Malcom arrived promptly at 6:30 p.m. on Wednesday to pick up Jules for dinner, she nodded approvingly at his attire. “You look great.”
When she’d told him to wear a pair of dark jeans and the pink button-down shirt, he’d been hesitant at first. “Are you serious?” he’d asked.
“I’m dead fucking serious.”
“You like to stir the pot, don’t you?”
“Absolutely, and usually with more than one spoon. Life isn’t any fun, otherwise.” She’d paused, then said, “Plus, I just really want to see your dad’s reaction.”
Jules had chosen to wear one of her favorite outfits, boot-cut jeans paired with a dark red, wrap-around blouse that clearly disavowed anyone of the notion she wasn’t a force to be reckoned with. When she’d told Malcom his father was predisposed to not liking her, it was also true that she was predisposed to not likinghim, so she was going into this dinner in borderline offense mode. However, Jules had high hopes she and Beverly would really connect on a personal level, since their one phone conversation had been so much fun.
Jules would find out tonight, at any rate.
When she and Malcom arrived at the Hodge residence, she wasn’t surprised to see it was very large and clearly worth a truckload of money.
“Is this where you grew up?” she asked, trying to imagine living in such a huge place, beautiful or not. It was a far cry from her own humble origins in an average-sized house with three bedrooms and two bathrooms.
“Yes.”
His one-word response was all Jules needed to hear to know his childhood home had not been a haven. “Well, it’s certainly … grand.”
As they approached the massive double front door, he murmured, “We can still back out. We can literally just turn around and get out of here.”
“Hmm, and what would our excuse be?”
“I don’t know, maybe a flat tire? Or we got rear-ended on the way and had to go to the hospital for medical treatment?”
