Page 12 of Halloween with a Daddy
“Well, there’s one question I’ve been dying to ask you all night. Since the moment I first saw you walk through the door.” I lean forward.
“Yeah?” She tilts her head and a light exhale passes across her lips.
“Why in the world are you wearing that costume?” I lean back and laugh.
“What?” She looks down and feigns being upset. “You don’t like it? I’m a scandalous schoolgirl!”
“Trust me, you wear it well.” I nod, still laughing. “But you’re incredible bright. You’re fascinated by the history of this place. You clearly didn’t come to this party looking for attention because you were staring at paintings while all the guys were checking out your ass.”
“They were checking out my ass?” She snaps her head back dramatically and feigns being shocked. “Wait, you saw them checking out my ass, so you must have been looking too!”
“I mean, what can I say? It’s lovely.” I silence my laughter with some whiskey before continuing. “The costume just doesn’t look like something you’d wear. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that one. You’re right.” She nods her head. “My grandmother made me a beautiful gothic dress I couldn’t wait to wear tonight. Then my best friend dropped a bottle of blueberry vodka on it. I could have shown up wearing this, or a dress soaked in vodka with a rip in the shoulder.”
“I would love to see the other one.” I sip my whiskey again. “It sounds amazing.”
“It is. So, now that you’ve insulted my costume, what else do you want to know about me?” She drinks some of her whiskey and leans back in her chair.
“Everything.” I say flatly. “Start from the beginning. Who is Bethany Brooks?”
“We don’t have that much time.” She chuckles nervously and shakes her head.
“Let’s just see how far we get.” I smile. “Nothing says you have to finish the story tonight. We can always pick up where we left off another time.”
“That sounds like you’re asking me to come back.” She blushes and her emerald eyes shimmer, almost like they’re filled with anticipation.
“I don’t think this is the only time we’re going to see each other.” I sip my whiskey. “You’ll really like the downstairs and the rest of the property is quite fascinating as well.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you a little.” She nods. “I was born here in Willow Grove. My parents were young, foolishly in love, and bam. Pregnant. They tried to make things work, but they couldn’t, so they split up. My mom’s in California, still trying to become an actress, and my dad is wherever the wind blows, I guess. He’s never even sent me a postcard.”
“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that.” I sigh.
“My grandparents raised me. Honestly, they’re wonderful. Simply amazing. They took me in without a second thought and have never complained about it at all. I’ve had a good life and I wouldn’t change a thing.” She smiles. “I’m in college, thanks to them. I’ve got another year left before I’m done, and then I’ll figure out what the rest of my life looks like.”
“What are you going to school for?” I perk a brow, mainly because the business side of my life creeps to the surface.
“Business Management with a minor in history.” She grimaces and takes a generous sip of her whiskey. “I’ll just tell you because everyone asks why I’m minoring in history. It’s because I love history. There’s no real reason other than I could do it if I took a few extra classes, and I decided I wanted to take them.”
“You’re feeling the whiskey a little more than I am, aren’t you?” I narrow my eyes.
“Yes.” She admits and then laughs. “I’m sorry, that probably sounded crazy to you. So many people ask, and I just…”
“I thought it was great.” I smile and lift my whiskey to my lips, wishing mine were on hers right about now. “It was raw and honestly quite beautiful. I still don’t understand why you like history so much, but at least I know you do.”
“Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve always been fascinated by it. My grandparents had lots of older books, and I spent some parts of my childhood in the past. The best part was that my grandparents could tell me stories about the things I read about in books. Then one day, my grandma told me the story of Grimwillow Manor. And now I’m here. End of story.”
“Oh no, you’ve left way too much out.” I shake my head.
Bethany looks at me and a silly little half-grin forms on her lips. It’s more than the whiskey. I’m not the only one feeling the atmosphere in this room, like it’s breathing along with us as we take one collective breath.
This isn’t normal. Not for me, at least. I don’t fall in love. I don’t crave a woman I’ve just met. But there’s something different about Bethany that peels all the complexities away. She’s quick-witted and sassy. Life gave her obstacles, and she blew through them like an Olympic Gold Medalist on so many drugs their piss would melt the test cup.
She’s incredible.
Amid what feels like a moment, her phone buzzes, and the atmosphere deflates.
“That’s my friend.” She grabs the phone and holds it up.
