“Not necessary. I’m quite happy where I am.”
“Working a street corner might be the oldest profession, but that doesn’t mean it’s a real profession, Eleanor.”
He called me by my full name and called me a whore in one sentence. Does that earn you bonus points, asshole?
“Actually, I’m fucking for free these days, Denty Junior. I’m working at a pawnshop though. Maybe it’s one you’ve heard of, since you’ve been frequenting them to pay for your coke habit? I hope Mother Dearest has the silver locked up, or we’ll be eating with our fingers soon, won’t we?”
DJ bared his teeth, and my mother lifted her head and stared. “A pawnshop? Really, Eleanor? It’s time to grow up and do something with your life.”
Like she was?
I didn’t reply, just stabbed into my poached salmon.
The table went blissfully silent for a moment—until DJ opened his mouth again.
“Yeah, Eleanor, aren’t you a little old—”
I cut him off. “Aren’t you a little old to still be living at home, DJ? How about you worry about you, and I’ll worry about me.”
“Enough,” Mother snapped, reaching for the bottle of wine near her glass. “We’re going to enjoy this meal without any further bickering from you two.”
Enjoy the meal? That was a joke.
I was only here because of good old Catholic guilt that I’d had a hand in my mother marrying an asshole and becoming a raging alcoholic. And even so, she was still my mother.
One night, I can get through this, I told myself. And then I heard his voice.
“Yes, listen to Virginia. Even I’ve had enough of your bickering, and I’ve been in the room for all of ten seconds.” Denton stepped toward the table, his hands wrapping around the back of my mother’s chair. He overshadowed her in every way.
His cutting tone sent fingers of fury trailing down my spine.
I had to get out of here before I let him get to me. I turned to my mother. She was staring at the bottom of her glass, and any animation on her face from only moments ago was completely dead.
I wondered if she’d known he was coming home and the whole “out of town” line had been bullshit. More likely, he told her what he wanted her to know and came back early to surprise her in some twisted game of control. I lowered my fork and fished my phone out of my pocket. I couldn’t stay here. I officially needed a rescue.
My fingers flew across the screen, tapping out a text, only stumbling when Denton’s cutting tone jarred my concentration.
“Really, Eleanor. One would think you could manage to put your phone away for one dinner. We’ll have to start confiscating them at the door.”
Which he’d probably try. But I was one person who wouldn’t bend to his whims. It infuriated him, and I reveled in it.
“Dad, you’ll never guess where Elle is working these days.”
Denton’s eyes landed on me, piercing and hard. “You’ve moved on from that little trashy tourist trap?”
I bristled at his description of Dirty Dog, but said nothing. One would’ve thought that DJ would have kept his mouth shut because the whole reason I was at the pawnshop was due to his drug habit, but I could take a picture of him snorting coke and show it to Denton, and it wouldn’t matter. Denton was the epitome of a parent who raised a piece of shit kid, knew it, and did nothing about it as long as his kid didn’t embarrass him publicly and bowed to his dictates in all things. Other than that, DJ could run amok and still indefinitely ride the gravy train.
I met my stepfather’s cold stare. “Yes.”
“And where are you working now?”
The question was a dare.
“A pawnshop.” I kept my answers short. I wasn’t giving him anything more.
His face twisted into a mask of disgust. “Of all the stupid and rebellious jobs you’ve had, this is by far the least acceptable. You will quit immediately. Report to the firm tomorrow morning at eight o’clock, and I’ll find a use for you.”
This wasn’t the first time I’d gotten an order like that.
“I already told her she could be a file clerk,” DJ offered.
Denton didn’t even look at him. “Shut up. When I want to hear you speak, I’ll ask you to.” His eyes bore into me. “Do you understand me, Eleanor?”
“I understand you perfectly, and there’s no fucking way it’s going to happen. You can take your use for me and shove it up—”
“Eleanor—” my mother interrupted.
“Virginia.”
He only had to say her name—that was all it took to have her shrinking into her chair.
I stood and tossed my napkin onto my plate. “I think I’ll take a rain check on dessert. I just remembered something I need to do.”
“I’m not finished speaking with you, Eleanor.”
“Well it’s a good thing one of us knows when a conversation is pointless.”
“If this gets out, and you embarrass this family, the consequences will not be pleasant for you. And if I don’t hear from HR on Monday that you’ve contacted them for a job, those consequences will be even less pleasant.”
There was nothing he could hold over me—and no way in hell would I be contacting his firm for a damn job.
I gave him my politest go fuck yourself smile and turned on my heel and walked out.
“You boys need anything else, you just let me know,” our waitress said as she set frosted mugs of Abita down in front of me and Con. The dimly lit bar was surprisingly busy for a Sunday night. The crack of pool balls and shouts sounded from across the room. Con studied me and picked up his beer.