TWENTY EIGHT

Ronan

The goddamn cameras are everywhere.

Amy must have brought in additional crew members, because every time I turn around there's a camera in my face.

Justine looks amazing. They have her in a little pink number with floaty sleeves and a button up front. It's modest on top, but short. The way the hem flirts with her upper thighs draws my eye almost constantly.

Like I don't know what she looks like beneath it.

"Ronan!" Mom pulls my horn and tugs me down into a fierce hug that brooks no resistance. "It's been too long. No wonder I never know what's going on with you these days. I can't believe I had to hear it from your employees."

"Mom. I'm sorry. You know how things are. It's been bloody hectic at work lately, what with filming and rescheduling almost a month's worth of meetings and projects and conferences."

She purses her lips. "When is life not hectic, Ronan?"

She always sees through me.

At that moment, Justine comes over with a tall leggy woman with a slim frame and bleached blonde hair with no traces of grays. It's only in her face I get a hint of her true age. The rest of her appearance is youthful and attractive. This must be her mother. Behind them, coming closer, is a shorter stocky man with brown skin, wide set features and smiling eyes. This must be Justine's stepfather. I guess the time has come for introductions. I was hoping to get my mother alone before now.

I smile for the cameras and reach out a hand toward Justine's stepfather. "Hello, Hamu? Silvia? It's so nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you." I see them both glance around in surprise at Justine and then back to me.

"This is my mother, Dora, and my sister will be joining us later if she can make it. She's been a little delayed."

Hamu, Justine's stepfather, shakes my hand firmly and Silvia leans in for a hug. It's all friendly and more relaxed than I was anticipating. Some people get strange about monsters, even now, years after we came out publicly.

"Mate, I have to admit this has come as a surprise to us. We didn't even know Justine was going on the show, but she's always been a fan. She probably knows more about the program than you do!"

"Hamu!" Justine swats his arm but he just laughs. It's a big belly laugh and the lines next to his warm eyes crinkle. I can't help returning the smile he gives everyone.

"I can pretty much guarantee you're right, actually," I tell him. "It's pretty humbling."

I guide everyone to the table. Letting the others go ahead, I lean down to whisper in Justine's ear. "What have you told your family?"

She stumbles and I catch her, my arm going automatically around her. "Nothing, I—"

Sally appears with another camera, circling her hand in a whirling ‘keep going' motion.

With a sigh, I give Justine a tiny shake of my head and lead her to her chair. Anna doesn't work nights, but it wasn't too much trouble to phone one of my favorite local restaurants and have them arrange a few staff and some meals for us. They know I tip generously, and for a job like this last minute, I'll pay extra.

One waiter serves drinks while another puts the finishing touches on the first course in the kitchen.

"This is all very fancy, Mr. Kernos," Justine's mother Silvia remarks, looking around. "But I hope you don't mind me saying this. It's a bit spartan in here. You don't have any photos up on the walls or knickknacks."

We really should have prepped the families. Only, I don't really want the truth going any further than it has to. There's already a huge chance this will leak. If it gets out that it's a set up, all the good work this is supposed to do for my image will be ruined.

Justine laughs awkwardly. "Mom. Maybe not everyone likes knickknacks quite as much as you do." She smiles at me and my mom. "Mom collects dogs."

"Oh! That sounds noisy!" My mother can barely disguise the distaste in her voice.

Silvia's eyes widen. "Oh, not real dogs. I only have two of those. Justine means I collect dog trinkets."

"And by trinkets she means dog everything," Justine confides. "A rug, a mug, a picture, a figurine, a pillow. If it has a dog on it, my mom wants it."

"Well, what can I say? I love dogs." Silvia gives us a grin.

Hamu clasps her hand on top of the table. "And if it makes you happy." They give each other such a sappy look I'm forced to look away to keep my appetite. It's definitely not because my throat chooses that moment to get all tight and scratchy.

I cough. "Happy wife, happy life, right? Or so the saying goes." I always thought the saying referred to the hell on earth a nagging wife could become. After seeing Justine's rapt smile at the book signing today, though, I'm having doubts.

"Good lad." Hamu grins at me. "That's the spirit."

I shouldn't feel pleased at his praise. Lord knows I'll probably never see him again. I'm not going to be the one making sure his stepdaughter is happy.

I sink my head into my hand as the waiter serves our entree. Prawn skewers with a light Asian sauce and cold soba noodles.

"You know, I hate to tell you this," Mom says conspiratorially. "But this isn't Ronan's real house."

I nudge her, but she ignores me and keeps going. God, we're not going to be able to air any of this.

"I don't know why he got all shy about it. His place is beautiful. But I can guarantee he decided it was an invasion of privacy to show it on TV. That's Ronan. I'd be surprised if you're even at the stage where you get to call him by his first name. Am I right, Justine?"

I leave off the chopping motion I'm giving Amy, to glare at Mom. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She gives a light shrug I do not feel matches her cutting words. "It's only that if there was ever a closed book, Ronan, you're it. Like bound with string and locked in a padlocked case and buried underground."

Silvia snorts and even Justine is holding back giggles.

"I value my privacy. Is that so bad?"

Mom pats my leg under the table. "No, dear. But occasionally it's nice to let people in. I hope you've let Justine in a little bit, so she can see the real you."

I scowl down at my prawns. This is ridiculous.

A, I'm not that bad and B, this isn't real. So it doesn't matter whether or not Justine has seen the ‘real' me or not. That doesn't stop me stewing on it all through the first course.

The staff take our plates and I'm so preoccupied I don't notice Mom slip out to the bathroom until she returns to her seat.

Damn.

I missed my chance to tell her.

The conversation forges on. Silvia talks about her dogs and the holiday they're going on in August. Mom chimes in, talking about the cruises she loves in the South Pacific and then they all start talking about how beautiful New Zealand is.

"You know," Hamu says, "New Zealand is a beautiful place to raise kids. Safe. Green. Great healthcare system."

I blink across the table. What does he think is happening here?

"Ah, I'm not sure we need to be thinking about—" Justine tries to speak up, but her mother cuts in.

"It's not too soon. Never too soon to have these conversations. I wish I'd had it with your father when we first got together."

"Mmm." Now my Mom is joining in.

Tension rises in my skull until my tail is flicking the air and the base of my horns ache.

"You're right, Silvia. Don't let time run out for you, Ronan. Justine's young and healthy. That's good. But you want to have kids while you're still young enough to enjoy them."

For a moment, my chest gets so tight I can hardly breathe. I'm not young anymore. Not really. Dad was only fifty-one when he died. That's just on the horizon for me at thirty-two.

I can't draw in quite enough air. The others are still talking. Pressing us about the number of children we'd each like and boys or girls.

It's too much.

It's not real.

None of this is real.

Mum smiles blithely across the table. "You know, I'm so glad you've finally decided to settle down. It's good to see you really looking for something real. Something more than work. Your father would be proud of you. I think he would have liked her."

I choke on a bite of salmon, dropping my fork to the table. "It's not real, OK? It's a stunt for television. For ratings."

The whole table goes silent. The sound of more cutlery clinking onto plates is the only noise in an uncomfortably still room.

"I'm not really getting married and I'm not having kids."

"Ronan, I know you're worried about passing on the heart condition, but—"

"That's enough!" My bellow spurs the room into motion again.

I throw back my chair and gesture wildly. "I've had enough. Everyone get out!"

They all stare at me like I've lost my head. Maybe I have.

"Get out I said." I point around at the crew. "If you want jobs in the morning, you need to make yourselves scarce. And Mom, don't you think you've said enough? On camera no less."

"Ronan, calm down."

I shake my head. "No. You know what? I'm done here. You finish your dinner, if you like. I'm leaving. Goodnight."

Snatching my phone, keys, and wallet, I storm out the door before anyone dares to stop me. When I stride past Justine, she opens her mouth, but I can't face whatever she would say right now. From the look in her eyes, she's hurt by my outburst. I've ruined things again. Haven't played along with the rules of the show she loves so much. By now, I know enough to know her heart was set on the fairytale story.

The sooner I break it to her the better. That's not going to be us. What we've enjoyed has been fun. Captivating, even. But it can't last. It's probably time to get that cleared up.