Page 39 of On the Line
Right.As if her parents knew the meaning of the word “family”.
“Hello, darling,” Christina Monroe said when she stopped in front of her daughter at the table, giving her an air kiss on each cheek.
“Hello, mother,” Lexie said, attempting to rein in her temper. She would sit through this farce of family dining, pretending as though she liked her parents if only to get them off her back for the next…forever.
Actually, forever might be too soon.
Robert Monroe reached out and gave Lexie’s shoulder a squeeze. “How you doin’, kiddo? You look good.”
“You do look good, Alexandra,” her mom said. “You’ve lost some weight. I’m proud of you.”
Lexie gave her a tight-lipped smile and sat down. She had always been thin, so if she’d lost any weight, it certainly hadn’t been on purpose.
The moment they were settled and comfortable, a waiter appeared, and her mother ordered a bottle of Chardonnay for the table.
Lexie hated Chardonnay.
“I can’t drink, mom,” Lexie said. “I have work to do.”
“Who are you recruiting this time?” Her father asked.
“It’s not…” Lexie trailed off, unsure how to explain the blog to them. “It’s not for the head hunting job. I started a travel blog with a friend, so I’m here working on our next post.”
“A travel blog?” Her mother asked, turning up her nose as if she smelled something rancid. “Why ever would you want to be a blogger?”
“First of all, bloggers make really good money. And second, maybe I don’t want to headhunt forever.”
“And why the hell not?” Her father boomed, dark eyebrows drawing together. “You’re making excellent money. You practically run the place. Hell, in five years you’ll probably own it. Why throw all of that away for some pipe dream?”
And this was the problem with her parents: the only thing they cared about was money.
“I’m not planning on quitting my job anytime soon,” she said, choosing not to mention that she wasn’t making any money from the blog anyway.
Or the fact that the longer she did this, and the more she traveled without the weight of some deal hanging over her head, the more she could genuinely see herself doing this full time.
That was a conversation for another day.
Or if she was really lucky, never.
She was an adult now, had been for a long time, and thus capable of making her own decisions. But she couldn’t help that small piece of her that perked up in her parent’s presence, desperately begging for some shred of praise from them.
“Okay good,” her mother said, taking a big slug of her wine. “You know we just want the best for you.”
Lexie nearly snorted but passed it off as a cough at the last second.
“So are you seeing anyone new?” Her mother asked. “You haven’t been with anyone seriously since that Matt guy.”
“His name is Mitch,” Lexie ground out, jaw aching under her clenched teeth. “And no, I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Well, darling, you’re not getting any younger. You’re looking a lot more fit these days, but you should try doing something different with your hair. And start wearing some makeup.”
Lexie had been blessed with a clear complexion, thick and perfectly sculpted dark eyebrows that matched her father’s, and a fringe of lashes normal women paid good money to achieve. Her physical appearance was about the only thing her parents had given her that didn’t make Lexie want to punch a wall in frustration.
“I like my hair the way it is,” she said, tugging on a long, straight lock. “And I don’t need to wear makeup.”
Truthfully, she used to wear makeup, more as armor for her emotional baggage than because she wanted to boost her physical appearance. Being with Mitch had made her confident enough to stop, especially when he had reminded her daily how beautiful she was without it.
“Still,” her mother said, jarring her from her memories yet again. “You should change up your look. Try something new. That’s probably why that Matt guy left you, you know. He got bored with the same old, same old.”
