CHAPTER 3

DUTIFUL DAUGHTER—YET ANOTHER ROLE GIGI play-acted her way through on a semi-regular basis. With another rule—thou shalt keep up appearances. Thanks to her wasted afternoon of job hunting, she was in no mood for it. She pasted that smile on anyway just in case someone was looking as her kitten heels tapped out each step up the flagstone walkway.

Her attendance and feigned positive attitude were the least she could do for her long-suffering mother. Besides, she missed the two-story brick house of her youth, even if she didn’t miss the people in it. They led an ideal life here, picture perfect on the outside. Her father, John Duval, and his successful law firm provided enough for her mother to stay home and live the life of a suburban carpool mom. They’d even had the perfect number of children in the perfect order. Her older brother, John Junior, had been smart enough to ride an athletic scholarship right out of town. Gigi hadn’t been so lucky, hence her obligatory weekly dinner with the parents.

She crossed her mother’s pristine threshold, softly closing the door painted a high gloss black lacquer. Classic was always best. Leslie Duval lived those words as if they were a coat of arms.

“Gigi, darling, is that you?” Her mother poked her head out of the kitchen door, not one glossy curl out of place. They looked more like sisters than mother and daughter.

“Are you expecting someone else?”

“Your father invited a friend from the firm.” From the downturn of her lips and brow creases that defied regular Botox injections, Leslie was not pleased about it.

“Great.” Gigi forced her thin smile to hold with just the right false note of cheer.

This evening’s regular activity of polite conversation would now be compounded by her father’s attempt to arrange her life in a way he deemed respectable enough. Wouldn’t he just shit if he knew where she’d been offered a job? That brought the first true smile to her face that she’d probably worn all afternoon.

“Will you be a dear and set the table? I’ve already pressed the tablecloth and spread it over the table. Your father hates if it’s not perfect and you always do such a lovely job.” Her mother made a valiant effort to force a smile but it came across openly anxious. Leslie wore her emotions like a transparent billboard. It remained a frequent source of criticism from Gigi’s father.

Contrary child that Gigi was, she adored this small fault in her mother and couldn’t say no when her mother looked at her so openly. “I’d be happy to, Mom.” A statement that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Leslie ducked back into her kitchen, leaving Gigi to carry out her assigned task. She hung her bag on a hook in the closet and walked down the hall decorated straight out of Midwest Living magazine, the rug silencing the echo from her footsteps. Gigi paused at the entryway into the dining room.

The door to her father’s office stood ajar, allowing the deep murmur of his voice to carry across the hall. He often conducted business from home. Gigi stepped lightly across the distance to pull the door closed and give him some privacy, but her hand froze on the door handle.

“Baby, you know I can’t see you tonight. I have company. Tomorrow. I’ll tell her I have to work late and I’ll come over. Or you can stop in my office and let me have you for lunch.” The teasing note in his voice made Gigi’s stomach turn.

She wished she could say it was the first time. The man was careless enough that Gigi had caught him a handful of times through the years. If it was that easy for her, she could only imagine what her mother had discovered him doing. Gigi had even tried to tell her mother the first couple of times but it was clear that she didn’t want to hear. It seemed she thrived on denial.

Gigi drew in a slow steady breathe as she pulled the door closed with a soft click and crossed the hall to her mother’s china cabinet. She counted the seconds on each breath as she took down the plates and glasses. Twenty.

The door across the hall cracked open and her father’s balding head poked out. “Oh, Gigi, it’s you. How long have you been here?”

She visualized smashing the fine white china from her parents’ wedding over his head one plate at a time. Instead, she stretched her lips into a thin smile. “Not long. Mom asked me to set the table; she said you’d be having a guest join us for dinner.” She moved over to the table clutching the china.

Gigi carefully set out each plate. Keeping her eyes averted from her father as he crossed the hall to her. He circled like a shark looking for weakness. This was not an unusual occurrence for John, especially when company was anticipated. He required everything he owned to be perfect; his daughter was no exception.

“I’m glad to see you dressed up today.” It was the closest thing to approval she was likely to get from him.

“I had interviews.” Gigi offered as she retrieved the linen napkins and silverware from the drawer where her mother kept them stored for special occasions. If she kept moving, maybe he’d drop the conversation and go back to calling his floosy.

“Your mother told me about the unfortunate event.” Of course, her mother had, but her father wasn’t finished. “Have you considered suing? I can’t take your case naturally. I have colleagues who would be happy too.”

“No, Dad.” She continued to move around the table while he stood stoically observing her from the doorway. “I’d like to just find a new position and continue on with my life.”

Truth was, she had considered it. As the daughter of a lawyer, complete with summer internships, she was keenly aware of how invasive the process could be into one’s personal life, especially for the woman. That alone was enough to rule out a lawsuit. One look into her life and dating habits would kill any chance she had. Liking consensual sex and not wanting a commitment were not crimes and if she had been a man, it would have been fine. As a woman, the incident with her boss would be turned on its head. The details painted as something she provoked and her employer the victim. It wasn’t right but it happened.

“Perhaps you should move home.”

If he had been a loving father and not someone bent on control she might have found the offer sweet, but John Duval had an angle for everything.

Gigi shook her head no, as she leaned across the table, adding a water glass and wine glass to each setting. “Thanks, Dad, but I have a good lead on an office manager position. I’m doing just fine.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the doorbell saved her. Leslie swept in from the kitchen, set down a pitcher of ice water and bustled out towards the front door like the hurricane homemaker that she was, John following behind her.

Leslie pulled the door open and stepped back into her place at John’s side to allow their guest entrance. John’s arm went around Leslie’s waist like the picture of an adoring husband. It made Gigi want to gag. This was why she did what she did—the lying. At least she knew the score. No one would cheat on her like that if she didn’t settle down. Even her own father, who cared so much for his image, couldn’t be bothered to settle down. If Mister Perfect couldn’t handle monogamy, what chance did another, imperfect man have?

Her attention shifted to their guest. Dick Pic was shaking her father’s hand. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“So glad you could make it, Chad.” John turned, clasping the young attorney’s shoulder, guiding him to face Gigi. “You’ve already met my wife. This is my daughter, the one I told you about.”

“I’ve actually met Gigi. We have mutual friends.” An oily smile spread across his clean-cut, boy-next-door façade—evidently his professional front.

Yesterday, she found Chad’s grin annoying, but not enough to keep from attempting what turned out to be a lackluster bedroom performance. As she scrolled through her phone at lunch, his actions had only irritated her. Now, revulsion coiled in her stomach. The fact that her father told Chad about her rendered last night and his barrage of sext messages today in a creepier light. The possibility that he planned to use their casual arrangement against her father made her shudder with disgust. She struggled to keep it from showing on her forced blank expression. The Tinder dating pool had suddenly become too shallow. Definitely should have swiped left.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Chad turned and presented a bottle of wine to Leslie. “I didn’t know what we were having so I went with a white. I hope that’s okay?”

“Chad, that’s so sweet. I’ll just go open this up. Gigi, will you come and help me bring dinner to the table?” The strained note in her voice showed she knew something was up. Her mother wouldn’t help herself, but she was perceptive when it came to her offspring.

“Sure thing, Mom.” Anything to escape from this awkward mess.

The fact that she couldn’t spend thirty minutes with her parents without looking for an escape spoke volumes about her life. Now, having to spend her evening with both Chad and her parents—keeping up appearances—this was a new level of nightmare even for her standards. She needed out.

No sooner had the kitchen door swung closed then her mother turned on her, her voice a low hush. “Tell me what’s wrong, Gigi.”

Now here was the balancing act. Her parents had no idea how she behaved. To them she was still their virginal little girl, someone they needed to shelter and protect. They had no idea about the male friends on call for a quick hookup and until tonight, it had never crossed into their lives. She also refused to lie to her mother.

Gigi settled for a watered-down version of the truth as she leaned against the counter, arms crossed protectively in front of her. “I went on a date with him last night. It didn’t go well and now I wonder if he asked me out just because of Dad. I didn’t plan to see him again so this makes me really uncomfortable.”

Leslie reached out, stroking Gigi’s arm in sympathy. “Then I guess we are just going to have to get you out of here.”

“Dad will be so mad.” She sighed, slumping forward.

She sounded like a petulant kid, not a twenty-five-year-old professional with her life in order. Dealing with her parents always seemed to bring that out in her. Mostly she managed to keep it together unless something threw her for a loop. Dick Pic was one major loop in her carefully stitched cover.

Leslie held out the now opened bottle of wine and a basket of rolls. “Get out there and then beg off to the bathroom. If you play sick, your Father will look bad if he’s unsympathetic. He’ll have to let you go.”

Leave it to Mom to find a way around that wouldn’t make waves. “Thank you for helping.” Gigi wanted to tell her, use that same logic and get yourself out. If after thirty years of marriage she didn’t see it, she probably never would.

Gigi took the offered items, then took a deep breath to gird herself for the performance she was about to give. She appeared fine moments before, so she would need to be subtle but obvious enough to get by. She allowed her shoulders to slump and her smile to slide away as she returned to the dining room. Setting the bread in the center of the table and the bottle in front of Chad, she took the open seat beside him. Leslie followed with the lasagna.

Gigi took a tentative sip from her water glass.

John broke the awkward silence as he dished his serving of pasta onto his plate. “Chad, how did the two of you meet? I know you said mutual friends but there must be more to it than that.”

Her hand flew to her mouth as she struggled not to choke on the water. She forced it down and cut in just as Chad opened his mouth to answer. “Do you remember that group for young professionals I told you about? We met at one of their events. We know some people in common.”

If her father’s glare could have struck her with lightning, he likely would have. If she had been ten, she would have been backhanded for speaking out of turn when Chad had clearly been the one her father had been addressing. She’d deal with it later, because she knew better than to think she wouldn’t get the riot act about her lapse in manners.

Chad smiled politely, poured a glass of wine for himself and then for Gigi before passing the bottle to her father. “I didn’t get to spend enough time with her, but she made an impression.”

Clammy fingers groped her knee under the tablecloth, sliding up her bare thigh—shades of last night’s adolescent level attempt. Chad wasn’t even looking at her as he did it. He was smiling at her father. Oh yeah, this come on to her was about fucking the boss’s daughter—total sleazebag. She’d love nothing more than to stab a fork in his wandering hand right there.

As his fingertips grazed the edge of her panties, she jumped, pushing her chair back from the table. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

Gigi rushed from the room with one hand over her mouth and the other straightening her skirt. The power trip Chad had to be feeling right now at her expense didn’t make it difficult to act nauseated. She rushed up the stairs, into the bathroom. When she reached the sink, she carefully splashed cold water on her exposed skin.

Between displays like the one downstairs from the fuckboys she tended to attract, and the philandering of her father, she found an endless string of reminders why relationships were a waste of time. If her dates treated her like an object, it became easier to treat men the same.

There—she just needed this reminder. She could go work for Roman without any fear of temptation, especially if it meant avoiding moving back home and any further entanglement with her father’s setups like Chad. Yep, as soon as she escaped, she was heading down to Red Barron to accept the job.

Leaning on her forearms against the granite counter with her head bent over the sink, Gigi heard the door behind her creak open. She looked up into the mirror past her own pallid face. Now she really did want to vomit.

“The guest bathroom is downstairs at the end of the hall, Chad.” Gigi kept her voice hushed. God forbid it carry down to her parents.

He dry humped her ass. “That’s not the kind of relief I was looking for.”

She slid to the right and was almost out of his grasp, when Chad reached out and snatched her wrist. “I can’t do this here. This is my parents’ house. Did you know that last night?”

“I thought I’d surprise you.”

She wanted to slap that grin off his face. She might still if he didn’t let go of her. “It wasn’t really a pleasant surprise.”

“Don’t be like that. I thought you like it a little dirty, princess.” He pulled her against him, his breath hot on her neck as he ground his erection into her hip.

“I’m not playing with you.” She jerked her wrist free and rushed from the room.

Gigi made it back downstairs without his answering footfalls chasing behind her. Thank fuck for small miracles. He was at least keeping up appearances, even if it was only because he worked for her father. She would take that reason if it helped her cause.

She stumbled into the dining room and leaned heavily on the chair. “Dad, I’m so sorry. I think whatever I had for lunch is making me sick. I’m going to have to go.”

“Sit down.” Her father’s voice was sharp and commanding, his face pinched in frustration. “You were fine when you got here. I will not have you embarrassing me in front of my company. You will sit and make it through this dinner.”

“John, let her go. She’s a grown woman. You can’t order her like a child.” Her mother laid a restraining hand on his forearm. “Besides wouldn’t it be worse for her to be sick at the table? She looks awfully pale.”

Gigi gripped the back of the chair and concentrated on looking pathetic; hating that at twenty-five she still needed his permission. The longer she stood there, the sooner Chad would be joining them. Was her father’s consent more important than being stuck fending off Chad’s inappropriate advances? Easy answer—she’d rather face her father’s ire.

“Please give Chad my apologies.”

John’s face burned red. She turned her back on him. As she rushed down the hall, she scooped her bag off the closet hook and was out the front door before her father could regain enough control to launch a tirade that she’d certainly receive later on.

There were bigger things to worry about. Just how committed to this was Chad? It was a damn good thing they’d been at his place and not hers last night. A shudder ran down her spine as she settled into her Fiat. Thanks to this debacle, that would be added to her rules—no one comes to her place until properly vetted.