28. Weston

It’s hard to believe such a vicious woman gave birth to Renee. Satan’s Mistress was one hell of an understatement.

“I couldn’t help but overhear. And you have greatly underestimated Renee and her devotion to this life you’ve forced her into.”

Susanna DuBois has perfected the haughty rich woman scowl. It’s deep, but next week, she’ll have the wrinkles it produces ironed out by a nice, fat shot of Botox.

I know her type.

Eva was her type.

“Mr. Scott,” she bites out, “I think you might have wandered a bit off-course. The dining room is through that door and to the left.”

“I’m sure it is, but as long as you’re in here trying to belittle your daughter, I think this is where I belong.” I pick up an apple off the counter and toss it in the air. “To answer your accusations: Renee did not in fact know I was going to be here. I didn’t even know until this afternoon. Had to call in a favor just to wrangle the invite, actually. As far as flirting with me, Renee has shown the utmost character, even when I’ve made it hard as hell. She has class in spades—more than anyone else in this room or this house. Sure as fuck more than you. And you would do well to treat her better. You might even learn a thing or two from her example.”

It’s a savage pleasure to see the woman lost for words. Her mouth opens and closes a few times in quick succession before she wrestles that sneer back into place. “You have guests waiting for you in the dining room, Renee.” Then she storms out of the kitchen with her chin in the air.

Renee won’t look at me when she’s gone. “Thanks,” she whispers, eyes downcast.

I didn’t plan for this to be the thing that made her talk to me or made her smile at me. Truth be told, I didn’t plan this at all. I just heard her getting attacked and I couldn’t stand idly by.

“Don”t thank me. She”s an ass.”

Renee casts a glance at the door, then looks at me and smiles. It’s the smile I’ve missed all this time. It’s gone fast, but I saw it. It was there, and a split second of it is better than none at all.

“She is who she is. I don’t think she knows another way.”

I shake my head. I don’t know how much space this gets me in her life, but if it’s inches or miles, I’m taking and pushing for more.

“You know something I’ve always taken for granted? For all the heartbreak we went through as kids, at least Molly and I always knew we were wanted.”

She looks up at me with her eyes wide and her head tilted. It’s her deer in the headlights look, but I’m the one who’s captured.

“Would you be like that with your kid?”

That takes me by surprise. I can see her mind working. She’s picturing me as a father in some grand scenario with five or ten little Weston lookalikes under foot.

But I’m not that guy. I lost my dad and it almost fucking killed me. The thought of bringing a life into this universe and then being taken from them by a bad check or a runaway train… that shit haunts me.

I shake my head. “I don”t want kids.”

Her back stiffens and her face goes blank. I can tell I”ve said the wrong thing, but I”m not sure why that is. All I know is Renee”s walls are back up and higher than ever.

“I need to get back.” She looks down. Not at the door. Not at me.

“We should talk.”

She shakes her head. “Not tonight.”

“Soon, then.”

She finally meets my gaze. “Fine. Soon.”

By the time I get back to the table, Renee is once again seated beside the dickhead and she’s smiling. I would be willing to bet that not one person at this table realizes the pain behind her smile, the sadness, the fact that she’s faking it like she’s getting paid to put on this fucking show. It’s almost more than I can take.

But, fake smile or not, she’s still beautiful.

I’m going to figure out a way to get her back.