Dear Readers,
To those of you who have chosen to return, thank you and I hope the wait has been worth it. For those of you interested, I have taken the time to respond to feedback from the last chapter at the end of this one, but you are by no means obligated to read. I thank everyone for their support, and as always, a great big thanks to AlreadyTaken and the time and effort she gives to edit and give a little advice. You're the best.
Enjoy,
Titania
******
CHAPTER TWENTY
"She's got broken things
Where her heart should be
But I can tell there are moments
When I'm really getting through
Make my voice brand new
I give it all to you
And I'll never speak again."
"You're Dead Wrong" Mayday Parade
Denny looked down at his wrist watch and sighed, knowing full-well that it had been clearly understood they were to leave at five o'clock on the dot. And yet it was already five-twenty, and no IM from Alessa that she was ready to leave. He gave a morose, half-smile; Alessa was just like every other woman who kept you waiting, except in her case it was because she could never leave her work, and not because she was busy primping. He decided to nudge her.
Alessa was typing furiously when her interoffice communication chimed at her. An instant message from
d.ashbury
.
Well?
The right side of Alessa's mouth scrunched into a half-frown as the inner corners of her brows drew down together. She had been absorbed in writing her first corporate bylaws for one of the senior partners, but every time her mind had risen above her work to survey the multitude of thoughts that drifted in the landscape of her mind, she had been confronted with the only fact of any importance: today she would meet Denny's parents. And that disquieting truth alone was enough to make her plunge back fully into her work, as if by means of her enthusiasm for it, it would absorb her and insulate her from reality of Thanksgiving.
But now, even in the one word digitally written on her computer screen, she could feel Denny's growing annoyance with her lateness. And whether he knew the delay was by neglect or purposeful, his disapproval was evident all the same.
She sighed, knowing she couldn't put it off any longer.
Give me five and I'll be ready.
Denny nodded once at his computer screen, now having her word he planned on holding her to it. He gathered up the files he would need while away, cleared his desk of the debris of a work-day, and closed everything down.
Alessa looked up as his advancing figure entered her periphery. He was striding to her confidently, his work bag slung across his shoulder, and she knew there was no more time. She hit save on the file she had been typing and closed the computer up. She had it stuffed in her own bag by the time Denny was standing next to her.
She looked up at him in annoyance. "You shouldn't be standing here," she remarked tersely, alluding to the fact that their relationship was still a secret to the office.
Denny only cocked an eyebrow up at her, not misdirected by her statement. He knew perfectly well that she was irked because he wasn't allowing her to escape the inevitable, but forcing her to experience the universally nerve-racking 'meeting-of-the-parents.'
"Come on, Sweetheart, let's go. The traffic is going to be murder as it is."
Alessa didn't continue the faΓ§ade that she was uncomfortable with being seen with him in the office, instead she went through her nightly ritual of straightening her area, finishing with a finalizing switch-off of the desk lamp. They walked silently to the elevator, and in fifteen minutes were queuing for the onramp for I-80 East. The traffic across the Bay Bridge was even more congested than normal on that Tuesday afternoon, and as they eked along the highway toward the bridge, Alessa couldn't keep her nervousness in check.
"So, your family-who all will be there?" Her fingers were tugging at the short hem of her dress. Denny had felt instantly aroused when he saw her that morning, dressed in the dark gray sweater dress that stopped high on her thigh. The rest of her legs were tastefully and alluringly covered in mid-thigh-high suede boots the rich color of an eggplant. Only an inch or two of skin on her toned thighs peeked out between the two pieces of her wardrobe.
"My grandparents. My mom's parents," he clarified. "My uncle and his wife and their daughter and her husband. Kat's pregnant, the family's first grandchild, so everyone's excited."
Alessa was silent as she thought about that a moment. "But it isn't your parents' grandchild. It's your uncle's."