1.
I don’t know how I got here. Scratch that, Yes, I do. Living up to my parent’s expectations had clearly not been a success.
The Annual Dalton Winter Family Reunion was in a few months. I, of course, was sitting in the sitting room for yet another lecture. This was becoming predictable.
As my mother paced in front of the fireplace. The cobbled stone reached up against the ceiling with the mantel breaking the symmetrical lines. A fire roared behind black grates with delicate lilies etched into the metal frame.
Pictures lined the mantle with an array of family group shots. In my mother’s words, “A fireplace is no place for a television.”
Instead, a large portrait, uncle Arnold painted of the family, hung in the center. It was the focal point of the room. If you don’t count the floor the ceiling windows.
I sat back on the cushion of a very uncomfortable French Louis Accent chair. It was the ‘Let’s have a talk’ chair. It didn’t escape me it was the most uncomfortable piece of furniture in the Dalton Manor.
I tried not to look bored as she gave the same lecture she’d been giving me for the last few years.
See, it all started when I failed to propose to my ex, Marlene. I’d come home and shared my breakup news, only to receive lashes of punishment.
They expected me, the oldest, to be married and popping out children. As if I could make my heart love a woman who didn’t love me.
Well, that shipped had sailed and I’d very discreetly had a few dates since. All had been pleasant, but there was no fire and the conversations were dull.
My mother sent a trail of attractive women my way, but I wanted to feel something. I wanted to have a discussion on politics, economics, and social issues.
Instead, they all wanted to discuss interior design, fashion, or the latest gossip. All they cared about was image and what I could provide for them.
Money meant nothing to me, I had enough at my exposal to support a family. I’d be damned if I was gonna marry for social status and the approval of my parents.
So, I sit here tuning out the only woman I’ve ever loved, unless you count Janie, and trying hard not to resent her for it.
I looked up and tried to tune into her lecture, but my mind was expertly blocking out the sound of her voice. It was the same topic I’ve heard every month for three years.
Donna Dalton had been bred from the bloodline of her family’s choice. My father, Gerald had been a prime stock to the Carlton family.
They’d married at age eighteen and popped me out soon after. They didn’t stop there, of course.
My siblings followed soon after. There’s Riley who came a couple years after me. My mother is content that he’s had a wife for ten years and three kids.
I’m reminded constantly how he’s been able to fulfill his Dalton family duty. While, I a thirty-two-year-old bachelor, have shown little respect and interest in the family legacy.
Then comes Noel who was a couple years behind Riley. Yet again, he’s married and has a daughter.
My parents stopped there and figured three boys was enough for them. Until came little Sarah, the youngest, Dalton.
My mother’s last straw for me hit last year when little Sarah married the Newman boy. They’re twenty-one and expecting their first baby in spring.
That leaves the disappointment of the Dalton family. My father barely looks at me unless it pertains to the family business.
The Dalton’s come from a long line of lawyers. We know how to argue, how to maneuver, and we always get our way.
Poor Donna, my beautiful headstrong mother, never stood a chance with the Dalton’s. We try to let her think she exercises the control in the family, but we all know the truth.
Gerald Dalton is the mastermind of the family. Though, in the last year, he’s dropped a certain amount of hints that I should fall in line.
Fall in line, of course, means to get married and pop out the grandchildren I’ve so rudely denied my mother.
Give me a break. I finally tuned into her voice when she stared at me expecting an answer.
“Samuel, what in the world are you going to do? So, help me, you better have a woman on your arm for this reunion.”
“Yes, ma’am,” was my usual response.
“What happened to the Stewart girl? She was pretty as a picture and sweet as can be.”
Rachel was also ditsy, knew nothing about the current social issues, and couldn’t arouse me if she tried. The woman was dull and an airhead.
“I’m afraid our intellects didn’t match. I’m not looking to spend my life with a woman who cares more about material possessions than the state of this social climate.”
That didn’t bode well with her, it seems. Her cheeks turned pink and she crossed her arms over her chest. That was a sign that I was in trouble.
Quickly, I tried to defuse the situation, “I’m sorry, mama.”
Her arms dropped, and she stepped to me and put a hand on my shoulder. It was one of the only forms of physical closeness she was able to offer.
“Sweetheart, I’m trying to help you. I’m afraid we’ll have to do this the hard way. Gerald?!”
My eyes drifted to the open doorway where my father seemed to materialize as if he’d been waiting.
Uh, oh. I know that look. My palms itched to cross my arms, but I knew better.
“Son, we’ve been thinking of how to move this along. Your over thirty and have yet to choose a wife. I get with the generation, people marry later in life.
“However, it isn’t a Dalton tradition. So, we’ve given this a lot of thought. I’m afraid that if you’ve failed to marry in the next year, I’ll be forced to move ownership of the law firm to Riley.”
“What?!” So, I’m being punished? What the fuck?!
“Now, keep yourself calm in front of your mother. Riley has a wife and children who can be beneficiaries. He’s capable and a damned good lawyer.”
I wanted to punch something, but I stared with hot eyes. This was bullshit. I worked harder than any of my brothers to be the lawyer I became. I sacrificed a lot to be where I am.
“I’m not doubting Riley is a good lawyer, but I’ve earned it. You’d really hand over ownership because I don’t have a wife? You can’t make me fall in love.”
His father stopped and seemed to mull that over. “You’re right, however, marriage is about compromise. If you marry, you’ll undoubtedly disagree. Love will come in time.”
“What are you saying?” There was a plan in works and I was dumb enough to come unprepared.
“We’ve arranged with the Coopers for their daughter, Rebecca to meet you for dinner. Tonight.”
I’ve met her, she’s beautiful and has a good head on her shoulders. What they failed to know, is I’ve had several dates with her. It never went anywhere. We had different interests and wanted different things out of life.
That was a year before Maureen. Now, I’m sucker punched to having to meet her again and risk disappointing my parents.
“I have plans tonight, dad. Thanks for checking with me first,” I said sarcastically.
My mother, who had remained silent asked, “What plans?”
“I’m meeting Janie for drinks,” I said.
As if a light bulb turned on in my head, I had a brilliant idea. I just hoped she wouldn’t hate me for thinking about it.
“Can’t you reschedule? You see Janie all the time. Rebecca Cooper is a respectable girl and I think you’d be a perfect match.”
Fuck this. I’m not sitting through another boring matchmaking attempt. The woman was dull, and she couldn’t turn me on if she tried.
Men aren’t that easy. I’m sure as hell not. I learned to control my hormones in my early twenties. I love women, but it takes more than a nice-looking face or body to get me going.
It’s just who I am. Rebecca Cooper was lovely if you wanted that sort of woman. I wanted fire, grit, and I wanted to be able to relax. I felt like I was at a job interview the last time we met.
“I gave her my word, I’m afraid I can’t cancel. I promised,” I lied.
The Dalton’s never broke a promise. It was the reason I failed to make them whenever possible.
The quiver in my mother’s voice made me grind my teeth. I hated to hear her cry and she rarely did. “I just want to see you settled and you’re wasting your potential.”
“Mama…”
My father’s hand raised and that was the signal to shut my trap. I learned that at age five.
“Enough. You’ll have until January 25 of next year to be married and work on starting a family. If not, I’ll be transferring ownership to Riley.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. That was the law and he’d just laid it.
My father exited the room and my mother hovered over me. “Answer me this,” she said.
Her crystal blue eyes piercing mine. I couldn’t look away, it was a challenge. I never backed away from a challenge.
“Are you gay, Samuel?”
Laughter bubbled up and I couldn’t stop its escape. I laughed and felt it in my gut. “No, mama. I’m not gay.”
“Tell me then, why is an attractive man like yourself not scooped up? You’ve got many great qualities, you’re pleasant to talk to, and your career is successful.”
“Would you believe me if I said I’m picky? I don’t want to settle, mama. I want a woman who can go to bat with me and put me in my place. Who’ll look pretty with no makeup on and who has a brain I can connect with. Is that so hard to ask for?”
Her face softened, “I wish you could have that, but not all women can fit into those categories. Have you met any? Was that what Maureen failed to fit into?”
No. Maureen fit well. It was her infidelity that turned me off. It took me long enough to figure out she needed multiple partners to fulfill her.
To say I was crushed was putting it mildly. There were three other guys on her hook by the time I figured it out.
I wasn’t about to badmouth Maureen, so I simply nodded. “She could have but she didn’t love me, mama. That’s alright. Why are you pushing so hard?”
“I don’t want to see you lose yourself in your career. Look at your uncle Mason? He worked his life way and died at the age of forty-six from stress.”
Mason Carlton had a massive heart attack due to a condition he’d had since childhood, but he would let her have her fantasies.
“I’m not stressed, and I have plenty of people in my life to keep me fulfilled. Travis, Kevin, and Silas are good friends. Janie is the one constant woman in my life, other than you.”
Finally, she sat on the edge of the mahogany coffee table carefully avoiding the glass panes.
“Jane Bartlett is just as bad as you are. How old is she now? Pushing thirty?”
“I wouldn’t mention that, if I were you,” I laughed.
“She’s a beautiful woman and smart. Why can’t she find a husband? Is she gay?”
I laughed again and couldn’t help the absurdity of that statement. “What is your fascination with single people being gay? If she heard, you say that…”
Then she asked a question that threw me for a loop.
“Why haven’t you snatched her up? Janie doesn’t come from big money, but she has amiable qualities and you already like her.”
I frowned. Janie Bartlett was my best friend and had been since we were twelve years old and she pushed me in the Gillard pond for calling her skinny.
Not a soul knew that I’d been in love with her ever since. I never uttered a word to anyone and I wasn’t about to now. Janie was off limits.
If it would please my mother, I could tell a fib. I’d have to get Janie to agree, but it wasn’t hard to strongarm her with guilt.
I didn’t want to lie to my mother, but she was sitting her looking like I was gonna die alone. I hated seeing that disappointed stare directed at me.
I’m in for it now. “I didn’t want to say anything, but Janie and I’ve been seeing each other.”
My mother’s posture changed instantly, and she stood with a bright smile on her face. “Oh, really? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Because it’s an outrageous lie. That’s why.
“I don’t want it public and I was respecting her wishes by keeping it quiet. I expect you to honor that, too.”
Her face fell, “Are you ashamed of her or she of you?”
I need to get out of this room. I stood and took her shoulders in my hands. “Mama, it’s new and I don’t to spoil it. Speculation and gossip could ruin it.”
Conceding, she nodded. “I promise, I won’t say a word.”
“Thank you. I best be off, I have a hearing in an hour.” I leaned down and kissed my mother on each of her pretty painted cheeks.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I know,” I said. It was the absolute truth.
“Oh, don’t flatter me, Sam.” Her grin told me she was in higher spirits than the irritated woman I’d seen when I was sat down in the sitting room.
***
Later after a full day of hearings, I sat in the booth of the Crabby Hatters bar. I’d discovered it when meeting a client for drinks several years before.
Now, it was the usual spot I met Janie once a week. She was late tonight.
I ordered a scotch and sat back wondering what her reaction would be to my fake confession.
“Sammy!” I looked up to see her walking toward me. Her long brunette hair tussled behind her shoulders in a spray of curls. It almost reached her ass.
She was wearing a dark purple dress with a round neckline and roused sleeves and hem. A black and silver studded belt hung tightly at her waistline.
I glanced down at her feet to see her signature stilettos. I swear she owned every color. Tonight, they were dark grey gladiator style with ties that crisscrossed up the front. The straps on the side were waves that intermingled with skin and shoe.
As always, she looked gorgeous and was way out of my league. Why the hell did I tell my mother I was seeing her.
When she reached me, she gave me a hug and sat down. I lifted my hand to the waiter, “A Manhattan.”
“Yes, sir.”
Janie turned and smiled, “You’ll never guess who came into the office.”
“Tell me,” I said.
“Natalie Bishop.”
I raised my brow, “Did she now?”
With a delicious smirk, she nodded, “Sure did. Too bad I can’t say why,” she laughed.
I shook my head; God I was an idiot. I’d tried several times to drop hints that I was into her, but I always chickened out.
Janie is a financial advisor for the filthy rich and was damn good at her job. I required a confidentiality clause that she strictly followed. I admired her for that.
“Tease,” I laughed.
The waiter stopped to deliver a drink and brought me a refill I was thankful to receive.
I needed liquid courage, so I slammed the drink back in one gulp.
“Uh, oh. Rough day?”
It was known that I don’t much unless I’m frustrated or stressed. “You could say that.”
As if on comedic timing, she raised her hot pink painted finger, “Let me guess, either a tough case or your mother.”
I grimaced, “The latter.”
Turning towards me, I could smell her perfume. It wafted off her in waves as she threw her hair back behind her shoulder.
I tried not to inhale it, but it was hard not to smell it. Her eyes were the color of the forest with gold flecks. Her skin the color of cream and her lips always painted different colors.
I glanced at them now, observing the rosy pink.
“Spill…”
I sat back and pinched the bridge of my nose, “Janie, you’re gonna hate me in about a minute.”
Those cutely styled brows furrowed and the crinkle above her nose appeared, “Why?”
I sighed, “I got another lecture from my mama today. I’m a thirty-two-year-old bachelor who doesn’t respect the Dalton legacy. I’m not married, and I don’t have brats hanging around my feet.”
“Hey, kids aren’t brats. Anyway, continue Mr. Crab.”
“My father gave me an ultimatum. More like a death sentence to my career. If I’m not married by next January 25, he’s signing ownership to Riley.”
“Sam, he can’t do that. Can he? You worked your ass for that.”
Glad to see someone say that. “I know, but he’s got a wife and three kids who he’d be able to leave it to. I’ve got nothing.”
“You’ve got an incredible reputation, integrity, and the grit to go to the mat with any attorney in the country. Family will come when the time is right.”
God, this is part of the reason I love her. It’s easy and she knows exactly how I feel.
“Thanks, but I can’t convince them, and my mama was on the verge of tears. She asked me if I was gay.”
Her bubbly melodic laugh escaped her, and it settled my nerves a bit. “Oh, that’s hilarious.”
“Not so fast, she asked the same about you. I think it was that you’re pushing thirty with no husband.”
She frowned. Age was her soft spot right now. Her thirtieth birthday was in a few months and she was dreading it. “I’m not thirty yet and I resent the accusation.”
I patted her shoulder, “Easy tiger, I’m just the messenger. Who might get his hand bit off in a second.”
“What does that even mean, Sam?”
I wanted another drink, but two was my limit. I rubbed the tension from my face. “I might have told a white lie to my mama.”
“What white lie?”
I looked directly at her, “I lied and said we were seeing each other. I couldn’t stand to see my mama like that. For god’s sake, she tried to set me up with Rebecca Cooper.”
“You tried and failed with little Becky and her airhead brain. Didn’t you tell her that?”
“No, why would I? Disappoint her more? I hope you’re not mad.”
The quizzical look on her face had me sweating.
“I’m not mad, but it’s…weird. What did she say?”
“Nothing, I made her promise not to say anything. I just told her to get her off my back. I’m tired of having women thrown at me like I’m a prized stallion.”
“I know,” she murmured.
“They expect me to pick a woman and instantly fall in love with her. I don’t work like that. I’m not attracted to ditsy women with no brains. I’d much rather shoot my brains out than marry one.”
“I get it,” she drank the rest of her drink.
I sighed, “I hate to ask, but I need something from you. I hope Jerry won’t mind, but would you have dinner with my family? They’ll expect it.”
“Jerry and I broke up.”
“What? Since when?” I watched her face sadden.
“Last night. I caught him…”
My heart dropped, and my anger raised to the surface, “You caught him what?”
I didn’t mean for my voice to drop an octave.
“I came home, and he was in the kitchen with Yvette. His hands were all over her. I threw him out.”
Fuck. I took her into my arms and let her rest her head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Janie.”
Three times a charm, I thought. This was the third fucker to cheat on her. What is it with men? They can’t keep their heads or dicks out of any woman that walks by.
“Sam?”
“Yea,” I said as she pulled back to look at me.
“I’ll do it. I’ll have dinner with your family. Only because we’re friends and because you deserve the firm more than Riley does.”
Why can’t I deserve her? Because I’m a coward, I thought.
“I don’t deserve you,” I said truthfully.
She laughed as she raised a hand to the waiter. “That’s true, Sammy.”
“Can you come by the house on Tuesday? I figured we better get a story in place to please my mama. I’m not a good liar.”
“You’re a lawyer,” she joked.
“I can’t lie to my mama. You know that.”
Pensive, she looked down at her hands, “Hmm…well we better come up with a really good one. I’m done with my last meeting at two. I can come by after.”
“I’ll cook to make up for this hairbrained idea,” I offered.
“You cook, I’ll bring the wine. Oh, so let me tell you about Vincent’s new idea for the carriage house.”
Effectively the subject was changed, and my anxiety took a backseat to my relaxation.
Like our weekly drinks session went, we exchanged talk about our friends, social issues that were important, and I didn’t once get bored talking about the renovations to her carriage house.
Janie put me at ease and I didn’t have to pretend with her or feel like I’ve disappointed her.
Instead, I knew she’d help me fake it with my parents and I’d help her get over yet another dick who couldn’t treat her right. It was our pattern.
After drinks, we stood outside as the sky darkened. I turned to her as a cab pulled up.
“Looks like sweater weather is coming faster than we thought.”
With a knowing look, she grinned. “Yes! This year, I get to pick the ugly sweaters.”
“No, not again.”
“I called it. I promise not to do a repeat of last year. This year, it’ll be great. Plus, my carriage house won’t be able to host our party. Care to share your pool house?”
The annual first day of snow, our friends got together to have an ugly sweater party. It was a tradition for all of us since my sixteenth birthday.
“I can have it arranged.” I helped her into her cab, “Thanks, Janie. Call me if you want to avoid a tub full of ice cream.”
“I will. You’re the best, Sam.”
I wish I could be the best, for her.
“Text me when you get home safe.”
“I promise,” she said.
I waited until the cab filtered into the New York traffic before hailing my own ride home.
