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~Cora~
“CORA, ARE YOU ALMOST ready? We are meeting the Franklins at the Ten Gallon in a half-hour.”
My father’s voice over the phone was the last straw. Any sweet dreams I’d had last night involving a certain hunk were a distant memory after the day from hell at work. And it only promised to get worse with the dinner I was expected to be at.
“Yes. I just have to finish up some emails before I shut down for the night. Do you want to wait for me, or just head over and I’ll meet you there?” I could use a few minutes by myself before this dinner with Mark, his parents, my father, and a handful of others. It’d been nothing but small fires all day and the mere thought of having to go to this dinner had me on edge. So I was hoping he’d say he’d meet me there, and I’d get a small reprieve. But no such luck.
“I’ll be in your office shortly, and then we’ll head over.” The dial tone demonstrated anything I had to say in return clearly didn’t matter.
And before I could even finish more than two emails, my father’s shadow crossed my desk.
“Ready yet?” A note of impatience reverberated in his words.
I counted to ten silently. “Sure, Dad. Just a sec.” I saved the email as a draft and closed all the programs, ready to shut it down. The only thing worse than making him wait was having him watch my every move while he waited.
Tonight was the appreciation dinner for sponsors of the upcoming charity event for SHIELD. The Survivors of Home Invasion for Enforcement of Legal Deterrents held their annual fundraiser at the Stetson. My father not only supported the event by providing the venue and dinner, but he also brought in his fraternity alumni and business partners to contribute. The dinner would be much smaller and intimate than the actual fundraiser, but it had the effect of keeping key contributors happy and willing to keep their checkbooks open. And although I typically hated fundraising and the phony pat-yourself-on-the-back-for-supporting-a-cause bullshit that went with it, the cause was dear to my heart. Losing my mother—and the hell we went through to get justice for her—made my presence not just mandatory by my father, but helped me continue to honor my mother and others who had been taken in violence.
We walked down the hallway and into the elevator in silence, the only noise the quiet clicking of my heels on the marble. I was busy trying to clear my head of work items—the disastrous PR proposal and the aftermath was still heavy on my mind—so I didn’t notice my father’s stare right away. But, eventually, the weight of his eyes on me bore down.
“What? Everything okay?”
He gave me a sad smile. “I can hear you thinking from here. You are just like your mother...she always got so serious when she was thinking through a problem. Bit her lip, just like you were doing now.” He moved his hand, as if he were going to caress my face, but then it dropped. “Some days are harder than others.”
I hadn’t heard my father’s sentimental tone in far too long. It took me by surprise, and a slice of regret at our current strained relationship cut a bit deeper. Things would never be the way they were when Mom was alive, and his typical indifference toward what I wanted didn’t inspire confidence he’d become the supportive father I needed.
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THERE WASN’T A SOUL at the table I wanted to talk to. All I could think about was my date tomorrow with Dixon. We hadn’t firmed up any particular plans, but two o’clock couldn’t get here fast enough for me. But until then, I had to sit and keep my mouth shut. Which was getting more and more difficult to do.
“Cora, dear, I’ll need your help with the table assignments for the event. Be at the house at one tomorrow to work with me on that.” Lila Franklin’s prim voice interrupted my daydreams of Dixon and what I hoped our date would be like tomorrow. Her pursed lips and pointed look completed the picture of a stuck-up socialite who’d had one too many Botox treatments.
The woman couldn’t smile. I’m not sure I’d ever seen a genuine reaction on her face. Just the plastic look she currently had. And then her words penetrated my brain.
“Ah, actually, I have plans tomorrow afternoon. Can we do it early next week?”
“Mark, I thought you said Cora was going to assist this year, be more involved.” Lila turned to her son, giving him the plastic look now.
“Cora, you can cancel your plans. We didn’t have anything scheduled, so I told Mother you’d be available, and this needs to get done. Anything else can wait.” Mark turned his attention back to his mother. “She’ll be there. Don’t worry. I’ll send you my files with the guests who will need some extra attention from the committee.” Mark sipped his Scotch.
What the hell? When had I agreed to do any of this? “Mark, I can speak for myself, thank you very much. And I can’t cancel my plans.” At least, I had no intention to cancel my plans. Damn if I was going to give up an afternoon—and possibly night—with Dixon to deal with Lila’s back-and-forth on who needed to sit next to who, and who was cheating on who, and who was sealing a business deal with who. I cared about the fundraiser, but I didn’t think I needed to sacrifice my sanity for it. “Besides, I am sure Lila can handle it. I’m not sure I know as much as she does about who belongs where, so let’s leave it in her capable hands.” I gave my best fake smile, as if my words didn’t have some second meaning. But really, she lived for this kind of thing—like a general preparing his battlefield, this lawyer knew how to put just the right people in just the right places. And not just with her barbed words and pointed looks.
“No. You’ll be there.” Mark’s glass thunked against the table.
“No, I won’t.” I stiffened and stared into his eyes, practically daring him to make a scene. “Mark, you are not in charge of my time. Or of any aspect of my life. If I said no, I mean no.” My jaw started to ache from the tense clenching.
My father choked on his drink, and Lila let out a surprised gasp. Only Martin, Mark’s father, was silent. But all three sets of eyes looked at me in various states of outrage and anger.
“But, Cora, don’t you want to help with the fundraiser? I thought you were committed to helping more this year.” My father’s voice held a slight tremor, as if he couldn’t believe that I’d had the nerve to stand up for myself.
I turned to him. “Dad, I’m happy to help—really, I am. I’ve put together the outline of events for the night, gotten significant items donated for the auction, taken care of the social media PR, and convinced the hottest radio DJ to emcee for the evening. Honestly, those are the skills I have to offer...not figuring out who needs to sit with who or who can’t sit next to someone because of some life event or business deal I have no idea about. You know I don’t care about that sh—” The word stopped in my mouth when his jaw opened in shock. “About that kind of thing.”
“Warren, let me speak with Cora privately. I’m sure we can work something out.” Mark stood and held his hand out to me, as if leading a five-year-old to her time-out corner.
Now not only was I upset he’d tried to run roughshod over my plans, he’d pissed me off with treating me like a kid. As if I were a naughty little girl who needed to listen to the grown-ups and do as they said.
I pushed up from my chair and threw my napkin on the table. “Mark, you can ‘talk’ all you want but I am not changing my mind.” I walked out of the dining area, head held high, and made my way to the lobby area. I needed to cool off and get away from the pressure of my father and Mark’s parents. And Mark.
But I wasn’t going to get to do that because Mark followed me out to the lobby.
“Cora, what has gotten into you? Of course you’ll help Mother with the seating. You need to learn how to do this if we are going to have any kind of entertaining when we get married. It’s practice...she can help you figure out these things before you have to do it on your own. We’ll have a wedding reception with hundreds of people—don’t you want to be in charge of planning your own wedding?” He reached out and touched my arm.
I whirled around. “Wh—”
Startled, I froze. There, standing next to the potted ficus tree, stood Dixon and his friend from the bar. The smile on his face slid off. The next thing I knew, he’d turned around and practically ran out the lobby door.
I moved to go after Dixon, but Mark grabbed my arm.
“Cora, if he was part of your plans for tomorrow, I think it’s safe to say your plans have changed.” He smirked.
“The only thing that’s changed is that I’m no longer interested in reasoning with you. There is nothing between us—there never really was—and the only thing I feel for you is disgust. Now, get out of my way. I have someone important to talk to.”