Chapter 11

DYLAN

"W ell, if it isn't Cliff Haven's own resident dive master." Harper teases me from behind the counter at the Haven café. She wears a smile despite the bags underlining her eyes.

A sheepish smirk creeps across my face as I remember the selfie I'd sent to her from Mackenzie's phone yesterday. I choke out a half laugh. "I guess the cat's out of the bag then."

I'd delighted in stirring Mackenzie up yesterday when I'd sent that message, but I realise now that I probably should have thought through the consequences before I did.

"Guess so." She shrugs, pulling a muffin from the cabinet with a set of tongs and bagging it for the elderly woman to my left. "There you go, Mrs. Mayfield. Enjoy!"

How this woman can sound so peppy when she's clearly exhausted as hell is beyond me. "How's Noah?" I ask. "Mackenzie said he wasn't well."

"He's still not great, but he's a lot better than yesterday." Her forehead crumples and the corners of her mouth turn down in a frown. "Mum's taking care of him today so I can work."

"That's no good. Hopefully he's back to normal soon."

"Yeah, thanks. I hope so too," she says. "What can I get you?"

I blow out a breath, remembering the text I'd received from Claire barely half an hour ago relaying the news that our parents were on the way to Cliff Haven to discuss ‘things' with me and that they were ‘on the warpath.'

"I think I need a coffee," I blurt.

"A coffee?" Harper stares at me like I've lost my mind. "You've literally never ordered a coffee from me ever."

"Yeah. I don't drink coffee." Another wave of anxiety ripples through me at the thought of my parents impending visit. I smooth out the linen button-down shirt I'd chosen this morning, my palms slick with sweat. "My parents are visiting. I need something to calm my nerves. What do you recommend?"

She raises an eyebrow but doesn't ask questions about the information I've just revealed. "Not coffee, dude. That's literally the last thing you need."

"Okay. Have you got any suggestions?"

"Chamomile tea?"

I blow out another breath. "Yeah okay. That will do."

She rings up my order and I swipe my card. She turns to the back wall, busying herself with preparing my tea.

Suddenly, I'm thrown off kilter by the girl that barges in front of the line. Her forearm nudges mine as fingertips adorned with chipped blue nail polish meet the countertop, champagne waves spilling down around her shoulders.

"Harper!" she calls. "Have you got some cream we could borrow?"

"Uh, I guess?" Harper answers as she turns around, confusion marring her features.

"Sorry. There's this posh woman at the bar demanding some cocktail that's not even on the menu and Corey just put the last of the cream into his precious potato bake recipe." She pushes her hair back off her face, revealing that flawless golden skin I've become so familiar with of late.

"Everything okay, Kenz?" I ask.

"Not exactly. This woman is fucking awful," she replies.

At that moment a text chimes through my phone and I pull it from my top pocket. It's my dad.

DAD: We're waiting for you. You're late.

I let out a groan. They're already here. And I'd put money on who this awful woman making Mackenzie's life hell might be.

Harper hands me the tea, which at this point I don't even think I can stomach. I set off across the road, leaving Mackenzie there to source the cream.

When I enter the tavern, the first thing I see is my father, seated at a table smack bang in the middle of the room. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his black Hugo Boss suit and matching shiny shoes, no doubt made from the finest Italian leather.

The second thing I see, or hear rather, is Faith Abbott. Dressed elegantly in a burgundy designer cocktail dress, she screeches at Corey from the opposite side of the bar. "Where has that wretched girl gone with my drink?"

Corey mutters an apology to my mother as I place an arm around her shoulder. I begin steering her in the direction of the table. As if on cue, Mackenzie comes barrelling through the doors of the tavern, a small tub of cream in hand.

"I'm sure your drink won't be too much longer, mother," I say loud enough for Mackenzie to hear.

Her head snaps up as she catches my words, a knowing look passing over her face. Mackenzie doesn't know the inner workings of my relationship with my parents, but she knows that things are strained between us. I'm counting on her to help me make this experience as pain free as possible but when her eyes meet mine, they're full of mischief, crinkling at the corners as she aims a devious one-sided smirk my way.

My mouth forms a grim line in response. I shake my head at her as if to say, "Now is not the time to give me any shit," but she only lets out a low chuckle.

My lips part, another quiet sigh passing through them as I take a seat between both of my parents. I'm about to ask them how they both are, to entertain the usual small talk, but my mother speaks before I get a chance.

"Seriously, Dylan. This place is lacking." She picks up the laminate card in front of her between her forefinger and thumb, eyeing it as though it's a plague-infected rat. "The menu is bare. There's hardly any choice."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and take a sip of my tea. It's too hot and it makes me splutter. "How are you, Mum?" I ask, ignoring her remarks. "What have you been up to?"

"I'm splendid," she answers, folding her hands into her lap, the precious gemstones gracing her fingers and wrist shimmering under the light. "I trust that Claire told you all about the party arrangements for Saturday? It starts at 6pm sharp."

"Yes.' I nod as enthusiastically as I can manage. "She mentioned it."

"Here you go, mam." Mackenzie's voice is the epitome of fake politeness as she smiles down on my mother. "Your Ramos Gin Fizz."

She places a tall glass filled with white liquid that barely resembles the cocktail my mother has asked for. I don't blame her though. My mother has clearly requested one of the most difficult-to-make cocktails there is and I can honestly say I wouldn't have been able to do any better.

Mum glares at her, but Mackenzie's smile doesn't falter. I admire this about her, I realise. Mackenzie doesn't give a fuck what anyone thinks of her and nor should she. Despite all she's been through, she knows who she is, and she doesn't bow down to the demands of others. She's unapologetically herself.

My father clears his throat loudly, leaning back in his chair. "Let's just cut to the chase, shall we?" His tone is condescending as usual. "When are you coming back home?"

I hear Mackenzie shuffle from side to side behind me as she busies herself at a nearby table. The sound of the salt and pepper shakers clinking together repeatedly could not make it any more obvious that she's eavesdropping.

I sigh again, my head falling into my hands. "I've told you time and time again. I am staying here in Cliff Haven. I don't want to run the business."

"But don't you want more for yourself, darling?" Now it's my mother's turn to weigh in. "You should be thinking about your future. Don't you want a steady career? To find a nice girl and settle down?"

Mackenzie giggles softly somewhere behind me and I drag my hands over my face, frustrated to be having this same conversation over and over. "Yes, Mum. I do want more for myself. That's why I'm here. But I don't need a girlfriend."

"And why not?"

I'm fighting a losing battle here. I shake my head before taking another long draw of my tea.

"Because he already has one." Mackenzie's voice fills my ears, more chipper than I've ever heard it as she slips into the empty chair beside me. She slings a toned arm around my neck.

I'm so shocked by her words, I choke on my tea, the hot liquid spluttering from my lips as I try to suppress my shock. I have no idea what this girl is doing, but she sure knows how to put on a show.

I swipe the moisture from my chin and dare a glance at my my mother. Mum's expression is as expected; one of absolute horror. She looks from Mackenzie and then back to me.

"Dylan," she says, her voice stern. "You neglected to tell us that you were in a relationship. Do you care to elaborate here?"

My eyes go to Mackenzie's, a twinkle of trouble playing in them, a smirk turning up the corners of her mouth. My eyes plead with hers, silently asking where the hell she's going with this. Her gaze softens and I think for a second, she might dial it back, but instead she winks.

She. Fucking. Winks.

My jaw goes slack as I realise her diabolical plan. This is her revenge. For the ‘incident' with the shark yesterday. She raises her eyebrows expectantly, daring me to go along with this insanity.

"I didn't," I admit to my mother. This is my chance to shut this down. To tell my parents she's only kidding. That I'm as single as I've ever been and I'm not looking to be tied down. But instead, I find my face mirroring hers, my gaze lingering on her bottom lip. "But that's just because it's so new."

"Super new," Mackenzie agrees with an exaggerated nod, her arm still draped around my shoulder.

"This is Mackenzie," I tell them.

"How did you two meet?" my father asks.

"Funny story," Mackenzie says. "Dylan saved me from being eaten by a shark. I knew right away that he was the one for me."

I stifle a laugh. "Ha. That might be a slight exaggeration."

"Which part?" My mother mumbles.

"I don't think so," she says sweetly, tapping me comically on the nose. She turns to my parents, her grin growing wider. "He's being modest."

"Well, you weren't actually in any real danger."

"It had huge teeth," she interrupts. "And it was massive." She stretches her arms out wide as if demonstrating the size of said shark.

"Really?" My father seems unconvinced.

"Yeah, it was really scary. It was staring me down with its beady little black eyes." Mackenzie squints her eyes comically in an over-the-top impersonation.

My hand goes up to my forehead, then I drag it back down over my mouth to stifle a groan.

"I thought I was going to die," Mackenzie continues melodramatically, slapping a hand over her heart. "But this amazing man right here, your son, he swooped in and pulled me to safety. He's my hero and …"

"Yep," I cut in, desperate to stop her from saying anything else. "And she's been my girl ever since."

"Your very best girl." Mackenzie tilts her head to the side and pretends to gaze at me lovingly.

My father clears his throat. "And just how serious is this thing between the two of you?"

"Well…" I begin to explain as the tavern door swings open.

Jade and her girlfriend, Jaclyn stroll past, Jaclyn laughing at something Jade has said before Jade's eyes find us. She does a double take, noticing our entwined embrace.

"Really serious," Mackenzie interrupts.

"So, then I guess we'll be seeing you on Saturday night then, Madison?" My mother's tone is friendly enough, but her stiff posture and pursed lips say otherwise.

"It's Mackenzie, Mum," I correct her.

Mackenzie looks at me, uncertainty in her features. "Saturday night?"

"That's right. You remember, don't you, Kenzie? My parent's big anniversary party?" I say with a teasing smile, curling my arm around her back and squeezing her a little too tightly.

"Of course." She grunts softly at my abrupt touch but barely skips a beat. "We'll be there."

"Right," my father clears his throat again. "Well, with that settled, I think it's time we made our journey home. Faith? Are you ready?"

"Yes. This drink is inedible anyway." Mum pushes the cocktail into the centre of the table and clutches her handbag.

My parents stand, and I follow suit, ready for this uncomfortable event to be done with. My mother places a steady hand on my forearm. "Please reconsider your options, Dylan."

"Can I have a word, son?" My father ushers me to the side as Mackenzie stands awkwardly next to my mother. "I don't think I need to warn you about gold diggers, Dylan. Be careful."

"Sure, Dad," I say, stifling another groan.

It's not until the tavern's doors have closed behind them that I finally let my shoulders slump. This encounter has completely drained me of energy.

"Well, they seem nice." Mackenzie folds her arms over her chest, a smirk once again playing on her mouth.

"What the hell was that?" I laugh, splaying my hands out in front of me.

"I could ask you the same thing," she says. "What the hell was that whole thing about some party?"

"Oh, that?" I say, spinning around to face her, a conspiratorial grin spreading across my face. "That was you volunteering yourself to be my date at my parent's anniversary party on the weekend."

"Ha!" she laughs. "As if! You do realise I'm not actually going. I was just trying to get payback for what you did yesterday."

"Mission accomplished," I say. "But you are coming with me. I can hardly show up without my best girl now, can I?"

Her smile falls, her eyes squinting at me warily. "You're the worst." She pauses, seemingly contemplating her options. "I suppose it would give me more opportunities to embarrass you further."

"Don't even think about it," I warn.

"I'm not going anyway," she says defiantly.

"Oh, yes you are."

"Where even is your parent's place?"

"You'll see." I tell her. "I'll pick you up at five."

"Fine." She uncrosses her arms, allowing them to fall to her sides. "But I have another question."

"What is it?"

"Does your father accuse all of your fake girlfriends of being gold diggers? Or does this outfit I'm wearing scream ‘I'm here panning for riches'?"

"I'm sorry you had to hear that." I sigh. "And yes, he does."

She quirks an eyebrow in curiosity, clearly having no idea why my father would assume something like this about her. Her stare has me in a chokehold, until something captures my attention behind her.

"Hey, don't look now. But there's a woman outside watching us through the window. I think she's staring at you."

Ignoring my instruction not to look, Mackenzie swings around. The woman startles, caught off guard, the sad smile falling from her face before she rushes off down the street.

"That's weird. Do you know her?" I ask.

Mackenzie shakes her head, a troubled expression on her face. "No," she replies.

But there's something in her voice that suggests otherwise.