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He shifts his attention to her, relief washing over his face. “Annie! And the scary architect!” He extends his hand to Landon. “Still corrupting my sister?”
Landon’s grip on Anne’s waist tightens slightly. “Every chance I get.”
Behind us, Madison’s laugh rings out.
“She’s something, right?” Mykel beams, glancing back at his girlfriend. “Smart, too. Pre-law at Yale.”
I cross my arms. “Mom is thrilled.”
“Actually—”
“Dinner’s served!” Mom waves us over. “Everyone to the dining room. Madison, dear, you’ll sit next to David. He’d love to hear more about your internship.”
Mykel’s face falls slightly. “But I wanted?—”
“Best do as she says.” I pat his arm. “Wouldn’t want to mess up the seating arrangement.”
The doorbell rings, and my mother’s head snaps up. “David? Did you invite someone else?”
“Maybe it’s Henrik,” Dad says. “He was supposed to bring something by.”
Mom’s heels click down the marble hallway.
The door opens. A pause.
“Brandon!” Mom’s voice rises an octave. “What a lovely surprise.”
That… Why today? Asshole.
“Mrs. Smith.” Brandon’s voice carries that perfect mix of charm and respect that mothers eat up. “I hope I’m not too late.”
“Never too late for you, dear. And please, call me Lydia.”
What are the chances of suddenly becoming invisible? Anne glances my way, her eyes sharpening with quiet concern.
“Naomi said you were working late.” Mom’s tone holds an accusation, not for him, for me. “And not joining us.”
“I was, but I managed to finish earlier.” His footsteps get closer. “Couldn’t miss David’s birthday.”
“How thoughtful.” Mom practically purrs. “We were just about to sit down for dinner. I’ll have Thomas set another place. Right next to Naomi.”
Great.
Brandon appears in the doorway, wearing the navy suit I picked out months ago. It makes his shoulders look broader, his eyes darker, and his hair… It’s actually styled, not the usual mess.
He looks good. Too good.
But the biggest problem are his eyes. They lock onto mine, intense and knowing. Too knowing.
“Surprise, cupcake.” His lips curve into that infuriating smirk.
Channel the energy. Perfectly composed girlfriend on the outside, screaming on the inside.
I sweeten my voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Having dinner with my girlfriend’s family.” His fingers skim the curve of my spine before resting. “Happy to see me?”
The heat of his palm burns through the thin fabric of my dress. I want to step away or flee, but that would create a scene I’m not ready to face. He trapped me.