and I quickly stand up as he continues. “Poppy, this is my father, Matthew Lewis II.”
The name makes me want to laugh. Of course he’s Matthew Lewis II. I push back my laughter and shake his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sir. Matthew has told me so many wonderful things about you.”
He laughs one bitter-sounding laugh. “I doubt that.” He quickly turns away. “Mother, how are you doing this morning?” he asks, bending down to kiss the top of her head.
“A little tired. This medication has me sleeping my days away, but other than that . . .”
“Brunch is served, ma’am,” the maid says.
We all stand and follow along behind her to the outside patio. Walking into the backyard is nothing short of amazing. The garden is beautiful and perfectly manicured with bright flowers and designer-looking trees. The patio is paved brick with fountains and statues. And there’s a long patio table covered in expensive-looking dishes, silverware, and drinkware designed by Martha Stewart herself. In the center of the table is a beautiful bouquet of flowers, surrounded by platters of food—far more than we could ever eat. I wonder what she does with the leftovers, but feel it’s not appropriate to ask.
“So . . . fiancée, huh?” his father asks as he takes the napkin off his plate and flings it out. “When did that happen?”
“A few weeks ago,” Matthew answers.
“Where’s the Audi R8, and why in the world are you driving that Corvette?”
Matthew’s eyes glide to me and he smirks but wipes it away. “Oh, it got damaged in the parking lot at work. It should be fixed soon.”
“See, that’s another reason you need to come and work for me.”
“I thought we’d talked about this, Dad. There’s more than one reason why I live the way I do. I think it’s time you accepted it.”
His dad laughs. “Oh, I’ll never accept it. My only son wants to go out and live like there isn’t a family empire to run? It’s ludicrous.”
“All right, Dad. Can we please just have one nice meal together? For Poppy’s sake?”
He scoffs. “For Poppy’s sake.” His eyes glance toward me. “No offense, honey, but I know my son, and you won’t be walking down the aisle. Not with him at least.” He looks back at Matthew, mouth open and ready to continue, but Matthew cuts him off.
“Are you fucking serious? Are we really doing this shit again?” He stands up. “You can. I’m done.” He holds out his hand for me and I graciously accept it.
“Poppy, dear,” his grandmother calls from behind us, and we both stop and spin around. “If it isn’t too much to ask, I would like to take you to tea time next Sunday instead of dealing with these ridiculous children. This is the second time I’ve met you and I still haven’t gotten to speak with you directly.”
I force a smile and nod. “I’d love that,” I agree.
Matthew turns us around and we enter the house, stride through it, and walk back out the front door. The whole way, his jaw is flexed and he’s seething. But I don’t push him to talk to me. If my father said something like that, I wouldn’t be happy either. How disrespectful! No wonder Matthew acted the way he did.
He opens my door and allows me to slide inside—still a gentleman even though he’s angry. He closes it and walks around, taking his place behind the wheel. The engine starts and he revs it loudly before shifting into gear and taking off. I have to hold on for dear life given the way he’s driving, but I hold my tongue, not wanting to add to his discomfort. When we get to the apartment, he goes straight into his office and shuts the door behind him, leaving me alone and wondering what to do.
Sixteen
Matthew
I can’t believe my father. How could he say something like that to her? I mean, sure, we’re not really getting married, but he doesn’t know that. For all he knows, we’re really engaged, and for him to say I’d never follow through tells me exactly what my father really thinks of me. I don’t know how to explain this to her, so I don’t even try. Not yet, anyway. Right now, my first and only thought is to calm down. I don’t want to go out there angry. I might fuck up and take this out on her, and now isn’t the time for that. Not after how