Mad’s smile dropped. Amber let out a metallic chuckle. My parents and Katie smiled. Julian narrowed his eyes, his gaze ping-ponging between us.
“Carry on.” He rested his chin on his knuckles. Julian was a decade older than yours truly. A Saturn-looking man. Tall, surrounded by rings of fat, with a shiny, bald head that made you want to rub it and see if a genie would come out of his ear.
Mad looked between us, picking up on the murderous vibes. “He helped me clean my, uh, mustard stain, then told me he originally wanted to wait a bit longer—a year is nothing in the grand scheme of things—but his love for me was just too much. That I was his entire world. I think the word he used was obsessed. He began to gush. It was kind of embarrassing, actually.” She pressed her foot over mine under the table, daring me to defy her story. “Like, really going at it. To the point he started crying—”
“Chase? Crying?” Amber wrinkled her nose, visibly appalled now. It was sixty-nine steps too far, and I was eager to drag Madison back to our room and spank her for every lie she’d spat out at dinner.
“I wouldn’t go as far as weeping, but . . .” Madison turned to me, doing that auntie arm pat again, giving me a three-nil-for-the-away-team look. I couldn’t contradict her version of our proposal story. Not publicly, anyway, when we were supposed to sell ourselves as a loving couple. I was, however, going to retaliate for this little stunt.
“It was emotional,” I concluded, taking a small sip of my whiskey. “Although, truth be told, the mist in my eyes was mostly due to your brown-and-green-checked dress with the blue dots, sweetheart. It was a lot to take in.”
“But a pleasure to take off, I assume.” Julian was baiting me, a cold smile playing on his lips.
My father dropped his utensils on his plate, clearing his throat deliberately. Julian looked up and waved away the discomfort at the table. Sometimes riling me up trumped acting like an actual human being in company. It was a recent development and one I didn’t appreciate at all. “That was highly inappropriate of me. I apologize, Madison. Brotherly banter gone too far.”
Brotherly, my ass. I wouldn’t trust him with a plastic spoon.
“Please, call me Maddie.” She bowed her head.
“Maddie,” my father repeated, sitting back. I made a mental note to remind Julian I was not above hurling him out of an open window if he were to sexually harass my fake fiancée.
“I must admit we were having our doubts since we haven’t seen you since Christmas. We thought Chase might’ve gotten cold feet,” Dad piped, pinning me with a glare.
“Nothing cold about this man.” Madison smiled big at Dad, pinching my cheek. Christ, I was glad this was going to be over in a couple of days. The woman was bound to drive me to alcoholism. “The hottest man I’ve met.”
She blurted the sentence out before she realized what she was saying. I turned my head and stared at her with a smug smile. Her cheeks turned pink. Her neck and ears were quick to follow.
“Thank you for marrying this savage of a man.” Dad smiled.
“You owe me one,” she joked. Everyone laughed. Again.
We fell into pleasant conversation as more courses were served. Thirty minutes later, Katie’s back straightened, and she frowned.
“Where is Clementine?” She stabbed a berry swimming in her club soda with a toothpick and tossed it into her mouth. I hoped the lack of alcohol in her glass was a telltale sign that she was back on her meds. That was an encouraging development. Katie’s anxiety brought everything else in her life out of focus, and even though she was great at what she did, marketing, I knew she wanted to meet a nice guy and settle down. She couldn’t do that as long as she was mentally frail.
“Asleep upstairs.” Amber flipped her platinum-blonde hair, cutting her gaze to mine pointedly. “She didn’t even get to see her favorite uncle.”
“She will tomorrow,” I said, clipped.
“Thanks for clearing some time in your schedule to see her. I know how busy you are.” More sarcasm.
I raised my glass, pretending to make a toast. “Anything for my niece.”
And nothing for her parents.
“Maddie, I don’t suppose you’ll be in the mood to play Monopoly with us afterward? You must be exhausted.” Mom turned to my fake fiancée, batting her eyelashes. She was laying it on thick. “It’s a tradition the Black women keep every time we’re in the Hamptons.”
Mad perked up. “Really? I don’t remember us doing it during Christmas.”
That’s because Mom just made this tradition up, I refrained from saying. My family went gaga over this woman, and I wasn’t entirely sure why.
“We wanted to give you and Chase some, er, alone time as a new couple.”