Going Down In Flames: Bridges Burned Part 21

"I'm her knight," Valmont stated, like it was the most common thing in the world.

Lillith's eyebrows shot up. "How did this come to be?"

"An obnoxious individual threatened Bryn, and I interceded," Valmont said as he pa.s.sed out menus.

Thank G.o.d he didn't go into details. Today was supposed to be about forgetting Zavien, not dredging up old memories.

"Why don't I bring a round of iced tea and some toasted ravioli while you wait for the rest of your party?"

Bryn's stomach growled. Toasted ravioli sounded wonderful.

Jaxon sat ramrod straight in his chair, eyeing the front door like he expected G.o.dzilla to come charging in. Given a meeting with G.o.dzilla or her grandmother, Bryn wasn't sure whom she'd choose. At least G.o.dzilla wasn't trying to fix her up with Jaxon.

What would she say when her grandmother walked in? How should she behave? She had no clue. "Lillith, this is awkward, but how should I act when my grandmother comes in? I hug my parents, but my grandmother doesn't seem like the hugging type."

Jaxon snorted.

Lillith pretended not to hear him. "If you were close, it would be proper to kiss her on the cheek."

She'd spent limited time with her grandmother. "Close" wasn't a word she'd use to describe their relationship. "I'm not sure we're there yet."

"I suggest you follow her lead. If she leans in, kiss her on the cheek. If not, then a light touch on her shoulder would be appropriate."

Like she didn't have enough to be nervous about. When Valmont returned with drinks and two trays of ravioli, she considered kissing him.

He winked at her. "I knew you'd be hungry."

"You're the best knight ever." She unrolled the napkin containing her utensils and speared a ravioli with her fork. A quick dunk into marinara sauce, and she popped the ravioli in her mouth. It was crunchy, spicy Italian bliss. She was working her way through her sixth ravioli when conversation died down around them.

Marie Sinclair entered the establishment and heads turned. Fonzoli's probably wasn't on the list of restaurants her grandmother visited on a regular basis. Wearing a crisp dove-gray suit, her grandmother broadcast power and influence. Bryn resisted the urge to apologize for her gray sweatshirt and jeans.

Jaxon stood to pull out her grandmother's chair.

"Mrs. Sinclair, how nice to see you again."

"Thank you. It's lovely to see you and your mother as well." Her grandmother sat and turned to Bryn. Expectation and challenge clear on her face.

"h.e.l.lo, Grandmother." Hoping for the best, Bryn leaned in and pecked her grandmother on the cheek. "It's nice to see you."

A genuine smile lit the older woman's face. "Thank you. It's nice to see you, too."

Okay. That went better than expected. Now what?

Valmont appeared next to Bryn. "Mrs. Sinclair, may I bring you something to drink while you study the menu?"

"I'll have a gla.s.s of white wine and the pasta primavera."

Since she probably shouldn't eat an entire pizza in front of her grandmother, what was the easiest, least-likely-to-drip-on-her-shirt meal she could order? Best to choose something she could eat with a knife and fork.

"Bryn?"

An escape route wasn't within Valmont's power, so she decided on two pepperoni calzones.

After everyone placed their orders, her grandmother said, "We should discuss our plans for Christmas Eve."

It was hard to discuss something she knew nothing about. "What time do you usually have dinner?"

"Dinner is served at eight. Of course the orchestra starts playing at six."

Wait. What? "You're having an orchestra?"

Her grandmother sighed. "I tried to convince your grandfather we should go with a three-string quartet, but he had other ideas."

Three-string quartet? What had she gotten herself into? "When I hear 'Christmas Eve dinner,' I imagine sitting down to eat with a few family members. What do you mean when you say it?"

Her grandmother blinked. "I'm referring to our annual Christmas Eve ball."

A ball...as in Cinderella-riding-in-a-horse-drawn-carriage kind of ball? Where is my fairy G.o.dmother when I need one? What in the heck would she wear?

"I've never been to a ball," seemed like the only rational response.

Jaxon snorted.

Bryn's grandmother turned her steely gaze on him. "Did you have something to add to the conversation, young man?"

"No. Sorry. That was rude of me. I can't imagine a life where you've never been to a Christmas ball."

Bryn imagined beaning him in the head with a ravioli, but then she realized this wasn't about Jaxon. It was about mending fences with her grandparents. Keeping her voice calm and even, she ignored Jaxon and addressed her grandmother. "A ball sounds fun. I a.s.sume people dance and eat. What else happens?"

"After dinner, we adjourn to a separate ballroom where everyone opens one present. The rest are saved for Christmas morning."

Okay. Her grandparents had more than one ballroom. Interesting. Did she need to buy presents for her grandparents? What could you buy for people who had two freaking ballrooms?

"I love watching the little ones open their presents." Lillith's hand drifted to her stomach. "It will be a few years before Asher figures out how Christmas works."

"Asher?" Bryn's grandmother asked.

Lillith practically glowed. "I'm expecting a boy."

"Congratulations." Her grandmother held up her wine in a toast. "I hope he brings you as much joy as Jaxon has."

Bryn snorted.

Jaxon glared at her.

Bryn tried to look repentant, but ended up laughing. "Sorry. It's just that I don't a.s.sociate you with joy."

"He wasn't always this intense," Lillith said. "You should have seen him when he was three. He walked around clutching this bear-"

"Mother." Jaxon sounded like he was moments from exploding.

Lillith reached over and ruffled his hair. The mutinous expression on his face almost made Bryn choke on the ravioli she'd popped into her mouth. "Bryn needs to know you're not always this serious. After all, if the Directorate approves your lineage-"

"Here's your food." Valmont pa.s.sed out entrees, oblivious to what he'd interrupted.

"Anything else I can get for you?" he asked.

"Strychnine, or a noose," Jaxon muttered.

"Sorry, you have to call ahead for special orders." Valmont touched Bryn's shoulder and gave a rea.s.suring squeeze. "I'll rescue you if things turn ugly."

"Thanks."

Her grandmother watched Valmont walk away. "Are you friends with the waiter?"

"He's my knight."

"You do seem to foster relationships with the most inappropriate people." Her grandmother's tone was frosty.

Fire rose in Bryn's throat. Concentrating, she pushed it back down. After taking a drink of her ice water, she cut into the calzone. "Valmont is one of the most honorable people I know. If anything bad were to happen, I know I could trust him to be on my side."

"And you couldn't trust me?" Her grandmother's tone was flat and cold.

Just like that, lunch went to h.e.l.l. Bryn set her fork down and gave her grandmother her full attention. "If I played my role according to polite society, this is the part where I'd declare my undying trust in you. However, I was raised to be honest. The truth is, I don't know you well enough to answer that question. I'm sorry if this starts us out on the wrong foot."

Lillith and Jaxon both looked like they were ready to duck and cover. Had she ruined everything?

"Although my daughter is to blame for your lack of social skills, at least she instilled in you a good moral code. While I don't like your answer, I appreciate your honesty."

Bryn's shoulders slumped in relief.

"Do sit up straight, and try to keep your elbows off the table."

After adjusting her posture, Bryn tackled the next th.o.r.n.y topic of conversation. "Are my parents invited to dinner Christmas Eve?"

Sipping her wine, her grandmother stared off into the distance. Was she remembering Christmases past? Had there ever been a happy Christmas Eve at her grandmother's house? They probably hadn't stayed up all night eating cookies and stringing popcorn.

"Your grandfather and I decided it might be best if your parents came for a private visit on a different day."

That was convenient. She gripped her fork tighter and tried to keep the snark out of her voice. "Any day in particular?"

"A day between Christmas and New Year's would be ideal. You can discuss it with them when you return home for the holidays, and then we'll make plans."

Strain showed around her grandmother's eyes. Giving this inch must've cost her a lot.

"Thank you for agreeing to see them."

Her grandmother nodded. "On to more important business. Do you have an appropriate gown for the ball?"

She had the copper dress she'd worn to the fall dance. Not a happy memory. G.o.d forbid she wear a dress her grandmother deemed inappropriate. Best to ask for help. "What type of gown are we talking about?"

"We should go shopping together." Lillith announced like it was a fabulous idea.

If the woman weren't with child, Bryn would've kicked her.

"I agree." Bryn's grandmother tilted her head and studied Lillith. "Are you feeling well enough to go shopping after lunch, or do you require rest?"

"I'm fine." Lillith turned to Bryn. "I know you planned to Christmas shop with your knight. Perhaps you can reschedule?"

Noooooo. She wanted to spend time with Valmont. Now it appeared she'd have to spend the day with her grandmother and Lillith.

"I'm sure your friend will understand." From the set of her grandmother's jaw, saying no wasn't an option.

Bryn pushed her chair back from the table. "Why don't I go chat with him right now?" She headed for the kitchen door and waited for Valmont to appear. He finished taking an order at a table across the room and then headed her way.

"In need of a rescue?" he asked.

"Yes, but I don't think it would help my relationship with my grandmother. She wants to go shopping after lunch. Could I meet you later?"

"Sure." He reached over and brushed a crumb off her chin. "Why don't you come back after you finish shopping?"

"Thanks for understanding."

"Part understanding. Part fear. Your grandmother is one scary woman."

Chapter Twenty.

After lunch, Bryn followed her grandmother, Lillith, and a mutinous Jaxon to a small dress store off the main street.

"I didn't know there were stores back here," Bryn said.

"It's not a store, it's a boutique." Rather than reach for the door handle, her grandmother pressed what looked like a doorbell. The saleswoman glanced up from the cash register when she heard the bell and flew across the room to unlock the doors.

"Mrs. Sinclair, how lovely to see you." Jaxon and his mother walked in. "And the Westgates-it's always a pleasure when you stop by. What can I help you with today?"

With all that sucking up, the woman must work on commission.

"I need a Christmas gown for my granddaughter."

The saleswoman glanced at the door, like she was searching for another person. Bryn cleared her throat, and the woman put the puzzle pieces together. "Sorry, I expected someone more..."