ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE) (14 page)

BOOK: ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE)
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Suppressing the disgust in my throat, I
curled my lips up into the most sincere smile that I could muster. Ancient,
indignant windbag that he was, Raleigh was still family… and he still held the
Carlyle Fortune in his gnarled grasp.

 

“Pleasure to see you again, grandfather,” I
cordially addressed him. “And you as well, Nana. How were your travels
overseas?”

 

“Dreadful,” he answered haughtily.

 

“I’m quite sorry to hear that.”

 

“Yes, well… certain things can’t be helped, I
suppose,” he sniffed, surveying the neighborhood under his discerning eye.

 

“How about you, Nana?” I asked my stiff but
otherwise polite grandmother.
 
“Did
you find the journey agreeable?”

 

“Given how low I set my standards for
commercial flights, it was reasonably acceptable,” she replied crisply. “Thank
you for asking.”

 

“Of course. Shall we go inside?”

 

“Not just quite yet,” Raleigh answered,
lifting his chin. “This is the first time we have seen you in a number of
years… I’d like to hear where you are in life, and what your plans are for the
future. Of course, the moment we walk through that door, we’ll be subjected to
the carnival that is that swift, thoughtless marriage…”

 

Raleigh… your failing health is
why they escalated the timeframe, you bitter, old sod.

 

Instead, I bit my tongue on the matter.

 

“As you’re aware, I’ve concluded eight years
in military service,” I reminded them. “Of which I was released just a few
months ago. I’m twenty-six years old now, leaving me four years until my
thirtieth birthday. I’ve enrolled in higher education, and the date will
coincide with the completion of my graduate degree.”

 

“Very good,” he nodded. “Very good indeed.”

 

I chose my words carefully. “Grandfather, Dad
has revealed to me that there are certain…
stipulations
to inheriting the Carlyle Fortune. Stipulations that I wasn’t aware were
there. Could you elaborate on this concern for me?”

 

The two of them stiffened visibly.

 

“What has William said to you?”

 

“Nothing concrete. He merely hinted that
there were rules in place to continue the longevity of the inheritance… to keep
somebody foolish from wasting it all away.”

 

Raleigh’s face set into stone.

 

“It was not his place to say anything of the
sort. Dalton, I command you to forget
all
of whatever foolish notions that man put into your head. Continue focusing
on your education for now – the rest will be explained in time.”

 

“So there
are
strings attached,” I replied.

 

It was too late to retract my sentence, given
how dark their faces grew.

 

“I gave you an order. Don’t defy it.”

 

“Of course, Grandfather,” I answered
impartially. “Forgive me. It’s just that the events of today have… surprised
and distracted me.”

 

They looked sympathetic for a moment.

 

Coming from them, that was
never
good.

 

“I can sympathize with that,” the thin old
man replied. “Trust me, it came as a great
surprise to your grandmother and I, too… a particularly unpleasant one,
I’ll add.”

 

She looked at him briefly, the stonewall
crumbling for just a moment, but within the instant she was just as impartial
and statuesque as him.

 

It occurred to me that my grandfather was too
proud to tell
anybody
that he was
dying… which left
her
to break the
news. Otherwise, my father would have never known, particularly given the
estrangement between them.

 

I gazed upon my grandmother.
Interesting.

 

“I’m sure that they’re all wondering where we
are,” I replied calmly. “Shall we go inside? It’s not going to be to your usual
tastes, but I’ve heard that they hired some caterers for the afternoon.”

 

My grandparents chuckled.

 

“Very well then,” Raleigh answered. “Let’s
get this pernicious
shit-show
over
with.”

 

And just like that, I followed them inside,
walking straight towards a night that was going to change absolutely
everything.

 
 
 
 
 

Chapter 13

 

 
 
 
 
 

Unfortunately, my new grandparents-in-law
looked like they would rather be dangling above a volcano than watching their
son celebrate his new marriage.

 

Regardless of that little detail, my parents’
makeshift wedding reception was actually pretty decent, even if it was hosted
out of their home. They’d even hired really good caterers – specifically,
my
catering staff
.

 

 
“Wasn’t expecting to see you here!” Beth
chuckled as I whisked a few hors d’eovres off of her tray. “Is this
your
event? Do you live here?”

 

“It’s not mine, no… it’s my parents. They
just got married. And no, I have an apartment back in the city.”

 

“Oh, really? Your parents are just marrying
today, huh? How neat!”

 

I laughed when I saw her confusion. “No, I
mean, Mom just married this guy. He’s not my biological father. Now, I get a
stepfather and a new stepbrother out of the mix.”

 

“Is that him over there?” She quietly asked,
pointing out Dalton. Of course he stood out, dressed as nicely as he was.

 

“Yeah, that’s him alright,” I replied with some
regret. “What, do you want me to get his number for you?”

 

“Oh my god, could you?”

 

She looked absolutely ecstatic over the idea.
Luckily, before I could respond, Arnold appeared in the distance, waving both
of us over.

 

“Beth, I’m going to need you to be more
attentive to the guests, and not
specific
ones,” he admonished her. “And you… stop distracting my employees, Clara.”

 

We both apologized profusely.

 

Our boss sent her away but kept me near.
“It’s fortuitous that I see you here, because I’ve been meaning to reach out to
you. I couldn’t help but notice that you failed to indicate any
premier call
shifts.”

 

“I’m sorry, there was a distraction that
night, with the wedding and all that…”

 

“Perfectly acceptable, given the
circumstances,” he replied nonchalantly. “But if you wish to retain those
privileges, you’re going to have to take them a little more seriously. I was
under the impression that you were
happy
to
be given that status. Did I make a mistake?”

 

“No, not at all!” I reassured him. “I’m
sorry, Arnold. You’ll forgive me for being a little, you know, preoccupied
with the arrangements here.”

 

He glanced around, unimpressed.

 

Of course he was unimpressed. Arnold was used
to catering large wedding receptions, football games, banquets, and hotel
galas… not little rinky-dink, makeshift post-marriage document reunions.

 

“See to it that you do not become
unreliable,” he replied quietly before banishing me from his side. “I have work
to do. I’ll see you tomorrow night at Prince Hall.”

 

“Prince Hall?”

 

Arnold raised an eyebrow.

 

“Oh yeah! Prince Hall!” It was one of the
shifts I’d picked up. Thanks to missing my chances both Saturday night
and
early Sunday morning, I’d lost the
opportunity to snag anything meaningful in the week. Joining the six-member
crew working at Prince Hall for Wednesday and Thursday had been pretty much the
only decent shifts left.

 

I just hoped my homework wouldn’t be too bad
with my time eaten up like that.

 

Arnold looked at me sourly as I left,
apparently unconvinced in my commitment to his catering and serving team.
Today has just been a complete pain in my
ass,
I thought to myself.

 

At least Dalton caught the hint and left me
alone after my quick little retort outside the front door. He stayed out there
a while – long enough to make me wonder how much I’d affected him.

 

A sneak peak out the window earlier in the
reception had shown me that he was talking to his grandparents before they came
inside, so I felt assured.

 

I knew that he wanted things to continue
between us. That much was obvious from just the way he looked at me, although
the texts really underlined the point.

 

Luckily, between family and friends coming by
to join the festivities, the catering staff making polite conversation during
small lulls, and Dalton’s clearly intentional distance.

 

I wondered all night if I’d made the wrong
choice after all.

 

It was true. I couldn’t deny the energy that
I felt, crackling between us any time we were close. When our parents were
giving their vows and we couldn’t take my eyes off of each other, I was
imagining doing the same thing with him one day.

 

Such a stupid thought.

 

No, I needed to focus on what was important.
Dalton and I were stepbrother and stepsister now, and although the taboo was
sort of artificial – we weren’t related, after all – there was still the sort
of lingering
wrongness
to it.

 

What we had done together the other night had
been absolutely magical, and I wouldn’t trade it away for a single thing.

 

But it had been just that:

 

Wrong.

 

Yet… it felt so absolutely
right.

 

After a couple of hours, it was time that we
went our separate ways. I was halfway expecting a small string of text messages
from him. Almost disappointingly, he had obeyed my wishes.

 

So, why was I unhappy about that?

 

I climbed into my ancient car and turned the
ignition. To my complete lack of surprise, the engine failed to roll over, so I
tried it again.

 

And again.

 

And again.

 

“Come on, now. Don’t do this to me.”

 

The ignition continued to do nothing. I
muttered obscenities under my breath and tried it one more time, putting every
little ounce of magic in my body behind it…

 

Nothing.

 

My car had apparently broken down, stranding
me here at this awful place, with both the parents who had inadvertently ruined
my love life, and the lover whom I could never have.

 

Well, this is just fucking
fantastic.

 

“You’re having engine issues again, aren’t
you?” Dalton asked, almost aloofly.

 

“Yeah,” I groaned, climbing out of the cabin.

 

“Want me to take a look?”

 

“Only if you can be bothered.”

 

Dalton reached inside, popped open the hood,
and took a look at the engine. He came back around and tried the ignition
again, then checked some of my fluids.

 

“Hmm. I can’t really tell what’s going on with
this. Maybe it’s just old age by now. Listen, do you have a reliable mechanic?”

 

I groaned. “I have neither
that
, nor the money to replace this
stupid thing, or anything that breaks on it. This is just my fucking luck.”

 

“Well, when’s the last time you took this
thing for an oil change? A tune-up?”

 

“I don’t remember. Ages ago.”

 

“Wait, you’ve been skipping
oil changes?

 

“Hey, don’t give me the third degree here,” I
grumbled. “So what if I missed a few of them? They’re optional, anyway.”

 

Dalton closed the hood and pinched the bridge
of his nose. “Thinking that oil changes are
optional
is exactly what got you into this mess,” he told me in exasperation. “No
wonder this thing’s giving you trouble. You’ve probably totally fucked the
engine up.”

 

“Well, that’s just
perfect
,” I threw my hands up in disgust. “I rely on this thing to
get home, to get to work… what the fuck am I going to do now? This piece of
junk car is all I had left!”

 

“Listen, this might be salvageable. I know a
guy in town who works at a reputable auto shop. I can have this towed there,
and you can assess the damage after he takes a look. Sound good?”

 

“Do you remember the bit where I don’t have
any money?” I reminded him tersely.

 

“Forget about the money. It’s on me.”

 

“Oh, no it’s fucking not.”

 

He flashed me an angry look. “Clara. You can
suck up whatever
bullshit
is running
through your head, accept my help, and get back on your feet… or you can cling
to your pride and watch your life crumble around you.

 

“Personally? It’s your choice.”

 

I was livid, but he was right.

 

“You know what? Fine.”

 


Fine
is
not how you convince me to shell out for towing fees and an estimate on
repairs,” Dalton told me, crossing his arms angrily.

 

“…Would you
please
help me?” I relinquished.

 

“Of course,” he replied, letting his crossed
arms sag against his chest. “I’ll make a couple of calls now, and get you set
up.”

 

“Alright,” I nodded. “And… thanks.”

 

“Don’t mention it,” he shrugged.

 

With that, he stepped aside and pulled out
his phone. I decided to venture back towards the festivities, pretending to
have changed my mind from a “lack of plans.”

 

About twenty minutes after I’d rejoined the
group of people, Dalton pulled me aside with the good news.

 

“Tow truck’s on the way. Your car’s being left
in good hands. It’s late on a Tuesday, so you’re going to have to wait until
later tomorrow afternoon to find out the damage.”

 

“But… what about school?” I muttered. “How
the fuck am I supposed to get to school like this? And I’ve already signed up
for banquet shifts, out of town…”

 

“You’ll need to consider cancelling those,”
he answered. “No telling what the consensus will be, thanks to your maintenance
plan… or lack thereof. But I can get you to school and back.”

 

“With what, your motorcycle?”

 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I keep a spare helmet
around that’ll probably fit you. We have the same first-hour class anyway. How
late in the day do you stay?”

 

“Until about 4 o’clock.”

 

“Cool. I get out of my last class an hour
before then, so I can just stick around in the union for the meantime. Sound
like a plan?”

 

Begrudgingly, I agreed.

 

It
was
pretty
rock-solid… but I’d already decided to cut my ties with this guy. The last
thing I needed was to be relying on him, not only to get around, but also to
solve my vehicular problems for me…

 

Maybe he was right about that
‘destiny’ stuff.

 

I tried to kill the thought before it could
finish, but it was too late. We’d been thrust together, him and I, and now that
the fun and games were over and I decided to leave…

 

Something cataclysmic happened to drive us
back together, no matter what.

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