Page 26 of The Consequence of You
“This?” I ask, nonchalantly, as if I don’t know what she’s referring to.
“This.” She repeats herself, waving between Callie and I.
Callie tries to pull her hand from mine, but I grip it harder and pull her into my side.
“Thisis my date. Calliope Messina.” As I say her name,my mother visibly pales. She’s heard the societal whispers as much as I have. She’d followed me out here to complain that my date’s dress is too loud, or too short or justtoo much,but this is more than she anticipated.
Her eyes narrow. If her friends knew her son was dating the daughter of a rumoured mafia boss, she’d be mortified.
“Messina? You’re not British then?” She sneers, curling her upper lip as though being anything else is utterly distasteful. I’m well used to my mother’s judgment, and yet hearing her direct it at Callie has rendered me momentarily speechless. Callie, however, doesn’t miss a beat.
“My nationality is British. If you’re asking about my heritage, it’s Italian. Well, Sicilian, if you want to be more specific.”
My father grips my mother’s elbow as she visibly shudders.
I knew what I was doing when I brought Callie here tonight, but I’d not been prepared for the shame that heats my blood at my parent’s blatant disapproval as it plays out in front of me.
My intention had been to rile up my parents, prompt them to throw out some disparaging words and as a bonus, have Callie experience what it’s like to feel not good enough for once.
But now it’s happening?I feel nauseated.
“What line of work is your family in?” My father’s steely voice echoes around the hallway, the high ceilings ensuring there is no way any of us miss the question.
“It’s none of your business,” I snap, stepping forward until my body is between Callie’s and theirs. They already know her name, but I won't confirm anything else. I’m not giving them any other ammunition to use against her.
Fuck knows why I suddenly care, but I do.
My mother addresses me directly this time. “We have a reputation to uphold, Asher. You need to stop acting out. Your legacy is important. We’re used to covering up your indiscretions, but there are hundreds of important people here tonight, and you’ve brought some … tarty looking-”
“Do not finish that sentence, Mother.” She looks stunned I dared to answer her back, but then my father steps in. “What your mother is trying to say is, her family are … criminals. It’s not acceptable. People will talk.”
Rage like I’ve never felt before courses through my veins at their bigotry.
I wanted to piss them off.
I deliberately chose Callie for that reason but hearing them say those disgusting things to her face is another thing entirely.
There's a pounding in my chest.
It can’t be my heart.
I don’t possess one.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CALLIE
Asher’s grip on my hand is painful. His nails are digging into my wrist and there’s no sign of them loosening. I’ve seen his parents in the newspaper, and at school functions occasionally, but this is the first time I’ve had thepleasureof meeting them. Their words should insult me but, in truth, they roll off my back.
I know exactly who I am. My dress is shorter than some of the other women here. It’s sexier. It’s red when everyone else is wearing black, but I don’t care about that. I might not fit in here, but people’s worth is not dictated by how they dress.
And what Duke Pennington said about my family being criminals? My family history is knowledge I've lived with my whole life. My father is working to legitimise the family business he inherited from his parents. It’s mostly reputation these days. Nothing more.
Their words aren’t particularly nice, and maybe I should call them out for being narrow-minded bigots. But I don’t intend to see either of them again, so I don’t bother. I certainly won't lose any sleep over it.
We’re not our parents, so I don’t blame Asher for what they said to me, and it’s clear he’s not happy about it, but as I stare at his back, an image of us in the bathroom a few minutes ago plays out slowly in my mind.
Him ruffling his hair.
