Page 30 of Eye of the Hurricane (Weathering Doves Harbor #2)

“Katherine!” Mateo calls out to me. “Come introduce yourself to the team, please,” he requests. I turn on my heels and make my way over to the larger group. Those who had strayed from the larger group condense in.

“Hi! My name is Katherine Graeves. I’m finishing up my last college course to round out my degree in public relations currently.

Mateo has given me the opportunity to shadow him in the following weeks so you’ll be seeing more of me.

” Everyone sits quietly and gives me their full attention.

It’s refreshing to be listened to so easily without a fight.

“As you all know, I’ll be retiring in the next couple of months.

Katherine here will be one of the applicants for the position,” Mateo adds.

He clears his throat rather loudly. “It should go without saying but I’ll say it for the sake of being heard.

I expect all of you to treat our guest with respect.

Do not let me hear any of you are making inappropriate or sexist comments. I won’t tolerate it.”

To be stood up for in a professional environment is a comfort I didn’t expect to find here. It’s just another reason that I want this so bad.

Mom

We’re five minutes out.

My heart feels like it might beat right out of my chest. I race around the house, meticulously cleaning every corner and surface. If there is one thing left uncleaned, my mother will find it.

Not only will she find it. She will find it, clean it for me, and shame me for it the entire duration of her visit. Which by the way, is my own personal hell.

I double and triple-check the two spare rooms, making sure everything is in pristine shape. One for her and my father, one for my brother, Noah.

I’m hoping I can get away with only bringing Ares around for the wedding. I don’t want to subject him to my parents any more than necessary.

I hate that I have to bring him around them at all. When we agreed to do this I didn’t care about him in the way that I do now. Now thinking of subjecting him to the things my parents will—no doubt—say rises bile in my throat.

I hear the crunch of gravel under tires and my racing heart somehow picks up pace. In my mother’s usual disregard for privacy and respect, she throws open the door without knocking.

Her bleach blonde hair is perfectly straightened and shiny sitting just above her shoulders. She’s got on enough make-up that you might be able to scrape it off and back into the tube it came from. She’s got on a pink dress and her pearl necklace. As usual, she wears an apathetic look on her face.

“Is this a new rug?” she asks looking down at the welcome mat that Luna bought me. It’s white and blue striped with lemons on it. She said at the time that it reminded her of me.

“Yes, it’s new,” I confirm. She glances at it once more out of the side of her eye.

“It’s… interesting,” she says, disdain evident in her voice. It’s a fucking rug. How can someone show such dislike for a rug.

“It was a gift from Luna,” I tell her. Hoping that maybe since I didn’t buy it or that it was a gift from a friend might encourage her to lighten up.

“Well maybe you should put it away when Luna isn’t here,” she suggests, walking through the kitchen and into the living room. She sets her bags down by the couch.

My dad comes walking in with his bags, his suit, and her dress in a zipped bag. He looks older than the last time I saw him and just like that my edge to stand up for myself is deteriorating. His hair is turning more silver than brown.

“Where can I put our things?” he asks. I walk him and my mom to the spare room I spent the most time cleaning. The one that is near perfection. Because my mom wouldn’t settle for anything else.

They follow me in with all of their bags. Dad starts unloading them like they’ll be there for a long time. Luckily, they won’t. It’s just a long weekend.

“I’m going to go show Bub to his room,” I announce, leaving the room. When I walk back out to the living room, he’s standing there bags in hand.

I run over and throw my arms around him. He may not be perfect, he may not stand up for me like I wish he would, but he’s still my big brother. And I’ve missed him the most being away from home. He’s one of the only things I miss from Louisiana. Him and of course the food.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I sigh. He drops his bags to the ground, wrapping his arms around me.

“You never visit home,” he counters.

“You know why,” I say, quietly. He nods.

“Let me show you to your room,” I tell him. He picks his bags up off of the ground and follows me to the other guest room.

“The place is cute, Kat.”

“I think so. Mom didn’t seem impressed.”

“Well you know that’s just how she is.” He shrugs. I just sigh.

His commitment to excusing her actions is exhausting. I can’t for the life of me understand why that’s a good enough answer for him. That’s just the way she is. Maybe it wouldn’t be if I wasn’t the only one unwilling to let it be.

“I guess,” I murmur. This is already tense and I’m already regretting involving Ares in this.

We all meet back in the living room where my mom reminds me that there’s cat hair on my couch and that the house smells like cat. I didn’t even know cats had a scent. I do now though.

“I was thinking I could cook for y’all tonight. Is there anything specific that sounds good?” I ask.

“Don’t be silly, Katherine. Your father and I will take you and your brother out to eat. You’ll bring your boyfriend as well,” my mom says firmly. She’s not asking me, she’s telling me.

“I don’t know, he might be busy,” I tell her. Which is technically true, I have no idea what he’s doing.

“Do you often not know what your own boyfriend is doing?” Her nose is turned up. I can feel the judgment in her words.

“We’ve just been busy.”

“It’s about that career, isn’t it? You’re putting it first, aren’t you?” she questions. My blood runs hot and my cheeks burn.

“Mom,” my brother cuts in.

“This is not your concern, Noah,” my mother scolds. That’s all it takes for him to back off.

“Yes, mom. The job I’m going after has taken up a fair bit of my time,” I admit. She sucks her tongue against her teeth.

“Call him. No more talk of this career. You will focus on what’s important this weekend.”

“I’ll call him,” I huff.

“Katherine tell me now if this is a man not worth meeting.” It’s more than a dig at him. It’s a statement of how she thinks of me.

“He’s worth meeting. He’s the best man I know,” I tell her. I mean it, too.

I step outside and get in my car to call him. Partly for some privacy but mostly because I need a moment to collect myself. And maybe a moment to cry .

“Hi, honey,” his voice is a grounding anchor. The whirlwind of my mind slows at the sound. There are a few beats of silence as I search for what I want to say.

“My parents got in this afternoon.”

“Are you okay?” he asks. His entire demeanor has changed. He’s gone from cheery to worried.

“I think so.” I sigh. “Mom wants to go out to dinner tonight, she expects you to be there,” I admit.

“Then I’ll be there.” It’s not that easy though. I don’t know when it changed. When he became someone I feel the need to protect.

“Ares, I don’t know if I can do this,” I admit. There’s an abruptness to my admission.

“You’re freaking out,” he states simply, like he can see inside my head. “Talk to me, we’ll figure it out.”

“I just don’t think I can put you through it. I don’t know what they’ll say to you. I’m their own child and the things they say to me… I don’t know. I’m just…” I ramble on for a few moments. He cuts in, putting me out of my misery.

“Freaking out, like I said.”

“Yeah, that.”

“What are you scared is going to happen? Not what you think is going to happen, but the thing you’re scared of.”

“I’m scared of what they’ll say to you. Mostly my mom. She’s said such cruel things to me in my life. It doesn’t bother me as much as it used to, I’ve become calloused to it. I don’t want that for you,” I admit.

“I can take it, let me be there for you.”

“I don’t know.”

“Please? We practiced for this. Don’t force yourself to do this alone,” he pleads.

“Okay,” I sigh under my breath, hardly audible .

“Okay?” he asks, excitedly.

“Yes, okay.” I nod and then quickly realize he can’t see me.

“Where are we going?”

“I’ll text you the details. Wear something nice,” I tell him.

“You’ll be left most impressed, Miss Graeves.”