Chapter Two: Exactly Our Type

2326 Words
Phoenix La Forge was a ritzy place, so I had to change from my t-shirt into a dress shirt, and trade out my comfortable gym shorts for a pair of charcoal grey slacks. Dad was really pulling out the big guns to try and impress his new girlfriend. I didn’t have much of an opinion on Denise. Frankly, I was happy that Pops was getting out into the dating world again. As long as this woman treated him right and made him happy, who was I to interfere? Jack was a little less open to the whole live-in situation. He was fiercely overprotective of our father, and he was certain that Denise was just another scheming woman after our father’s money. I’ll admit that it was moving suspiciously fast. Two months was a pretty short span of dating before deciding to move in together. But Dad insisted that at his age, time was short, and you had to make the most of it. Besides that, he’d known this woman a long time. Her late husband had also been a professor from the sciences department at the university. So it wasn’t like she was a total stranger he had picked up on the street. And, the new girlfriend came with a kid. Dad said she was a teenager, but he didn’t specify how old she was. She came to the door behind her mother wearing an oversized hoodie with the hat pulled down over her face. The sweater fell to her thighs, and under that she wore a pair of black leggings. She had very small feet and wore a pair of black rubber flip flops. She was a tiny thing in her all-black ensemble, so I guessed that our new housemate was probably a fourteen-year-old goth-girl. But it was cool. I actually thought it would be kind of fun to have a kid around the house. Jack, though…he thought it was just going to be a headache. We all gathered at the bottom of the stairs, and the goth girl came down last. She hadn’t bothered to change her clothes, a fact that made my father frown. He liked things to be very neat and proper. He probably would have preferred if the kid had come down in a nice dress and a pair of patent Mary Jane’s on her little feet. However, being that this was their first night, he was forced to be cordial and ignore the fashion faux pax. “Shall we?” He held open the door, and ushered everyone outside. “We’re going to take Jack’s car,” I said as I brushed by him. “We’ll meet you at the restaurant.” Jack drove a very respectable looking blue Impala. Nothing too flashy or attention-grabbing for my brother. Perfect for going out to dinner at a fancy-shmancy restaurant with the family. Unlike my big pick-up truck with the lift and extra large tires and a souped-up engine. We wove through traffic at a mad speed, straight through down-town Rutberg, to the big brick building that housed La Forge. Jack pulled up to the valet parking attendant and climbed out of the vehicle, dropping the keys in the uniformed woman’s hand. I smirked when I saw the way her eyes followed his backside. Jack had that effect on women, without even trying. We had to hang around outside of the door while we waited for Dad. A few minutes later, he pulled up in his BMW. Immediately my eyes were drawn to the small dark figure that exited from the back seat. When they were almost to the door, her mother elbowed her. "At least take your hood off, Robbi!" With a sigh, Robyn reached up and pulled down her hood, exposing her hair and her face. She had thick, rich brown hair that was artlessly piled up on top of her head, leaving bits and pieces to fall around her angelic face. Her eyes were large and wide-set, giving her an exaggeratedly innocent look. Her nose was small and pert, and her lips were sweet and plump, even though they were pressed into an unhappy expression. There were freckles across her cheeks, and even without make-up, she was devastatingly beautiful. Nope, not a fourteen-year-old. In fact, if my father hadn’t specifically called her a teenager, I would have guessed her to be in her twenties, somewhere near our age. Despite her innocent look, there was a certain maturity about her gaze. I glanced at my brother and saw that he was also staring at her, his expression a little dumbfounded. I almost laughed out loud at the irony of it. She was exactly our type. And she was completely off-limits. The hostess greeted my father. Dad was a regular at La Forge, and had been able to secure a reservation, even though there was a waiting list for the restaurant. The woman led us through the dining room to a round table near the center of the room. Dad politely held out a chair for his girlfriend. I turned to do the same for Robyn, but she had already pulled out her own chair and plopped her butt into it. I took the seat immediately to her right, which forced Jack to sit to her left. “Order whatever you like!” My father said grandly. “Tonight we celebrate new beginnings!” I picked up my menu, and out of the corner of my eye, I watched Robyn. Did she even know how to behave in a fancy restaurant? Not to be judgy, but she and her mother seemed rather common. Would she be intimidated by the white linen napkins and the excessive assortment of silverware? As if she sensed my thoughts, Robyn took her napkin, shook it out carelessly, and placed it in her lap, and then reached for her crystal water goblet and took a sip before she picked up the menu and scanned the offerings. Most women were, in my experience, painfully predictable. Despite all the scrumptious options on the menu, they would choose a salad and pick at it like a rabbit instead of enjoying the fine dining experience. Sure enough, when the waiter came to take our orders, Dad’s new girlfriend ordered the Asian chicken salad, with the dressing on the side. Dad ordered the stuffed turkey breast, and my brother asked for the mushroom ravioli. “I’ll take the baked lasagna,” I said, setting my menu aside. “Robyn,” My father prompted. “What would you like for dinner?” Her lips curved into a sweet smile. “I’ll take the surf and turf platter. I’d like my steak medium rare, extra butter on the side, no potato, no vegetables.” Across the table, I saw her mother wince and my father’s eyes widen in surprise. I had to hide my chuckle behind a cough. The kid had just ordered the most expensive item on the menu, aside from the fresh Maine lobster twins. “Darling-” there was a definite note of censure in her mother’s voice. “Perhaps it would be better if-” My father stopped her, placing his hand over hers and giving her a tight smile. “It’s no problem, my dear. You did tell me your daughter has…peculiar eating habits.” Denise laughed nervously, “You know how girls are,” she said, ducking her head, “always chasing the latest fad diet.” “It’s not a fad, mother,” Robyn spoke up. She seemed quite calm and unemotional. I watched the exchange with interest. I didn’t see anything too unusual about Robyn’s order. So what if she didn’t like vegetables? I thought it was a little unkind of her mother to make a big deal out of it. But perhaps the real issue was Robyn had embarrassed her by choosing such an expensive item. I could have told her that it was no issue, my dad could more than afford it, and if he couldn’t, Jack and I could. Jack had his phone out, and was pretending that all of his attention was on the screen. It was a habit that drove my father crazy, which is precisely why he did it. However, I still saw him taking surreptitious glances at the girl seated between us. I waited for Dad to chastise him for his poor table manners, but this time he was so absorbed in his private conversation with Denise, that he didn’t even give Jack his signature look of disapproval. The three of us sat in awkward silence. I knew Jack wasn’t going to make any effort to make polite chit-chat, so it fell to me. “So, uh, Robyn…are you in high school then?” “No.” “Oh, already graduated?” “No.” She ran her finger around the rim of her waterglass, making the crystal hum lightly. “I was homeschooled. I finished my course two years ago.” “Are you attending university?” “I think university education is a waste of money unless you are following a specialized career path.” I blinked in surprise, and on the other side of her, Jack choked on the water he had just attempted to swallow. “Better not let the professor hear you say that,” he muttered. “He’s a stickler for formal education.” She shrugged. “Why should I care what he thinks?” Jack's eyes got big for a moment, and then he went back to his phone. I felt a small smile playing around my lips. I could already see that having Robyn in the house was definitely going to make life a lot more interesting. She stopped playing with her water glass and nailed me with those big, brown eyes. “What about you Phoenix? What do you do?” “Jack and I run a health and nutrition company,” I answered easily, “JP Wellness. Have you heard of it?” “Sure, I’ve seen your supplements in the grocery store.” Her tone was dismissive. Our company sold a lot more than supplements, but I let it go. If I elaborated, it would sound like I was bragging. “So,” her voice was soft and smooth and very easy on the ears. “Why do two grown men with their own successful company still live at home with their daddy?” I was slightly taken aback by her question, but Jack had been listening to the conversation. “Convenience, mostly," he said coolly. "It’s close to headquarters and there isn’t much available for rental housing in the area. Plus, someone has to keep an eye on the old man.” He dropped the volume of his voice so that my father couldn’t hear him across the table. “Someone has to protect him from money-grubbing players.” Her brown eyes glittered, but not with anger or hurt as Jack had surely intended, but with good humor. Her lips stretched into a smile, and an adorable dimple appeared on one cheek, like she was really pleased with his retort. I recovered myself and slung the question back at her. “And why does a smart, ambitious young woman such as yourself still follow her mommy?” She tilted her head at me, like she was deeply considering the question. “Convenience mostly,” she said, echoing Jack’s answer. “And someone has to be here to pick up the pieces when things fall apart.” I sat back in my chair. That sharp mouth and quick wit seemed at odds with her sweet and innocent expression. I noticed that she didn’t deny that her mother was after my father’s money, or take the bait and try to defend the relationship between our parents. Before we could speak more, the waiter came with our plates. We had all opted to skip soup and appetizers. I accepted my plate of fragrant Italian goodness and smirked a little at the massive platter of steak and seafood that was set before Robyn. She was such a tiny thing, there was no way she could eat all of that food. She smiled and thanked the waiter politely before turning her attention to her dinner. She licked her lips in anticipation and picked up the nutcrackers. I thought she would be daunted by the spiny king crab legs on the side of her plate, but clearly, this wasn’t her first rodeo. She cracked open the shells with expertise and used the small fork to pull out clumps of meat. She dipped them in melted butter and made a face of pure pleasure as she placed the succulent meat on her tongue. What kind of faces does she make when she’s about to climax? The inappropriate thought sprang into my head unbidden. But it was hardly my fault when she was sitting beside me making little noises of appreciation like she was having a food-induced orgasm. I had to deliberately look away and focus on my own plate. While her mother pushed lettuce around her plate, the daughter plowed into her medium rare steak with gusto. I saw my father look across the table several times with raised eyebrows, but he was too polite to say anything. Robyn popped the last shrimp into her mouth with a groan and set down her fork. She had cleaned her plate of every last morsel. She patted the grease off her lips and sat back with a satisfied sigh. “Thank you for dinner, Professor Williams, it was delicious,” she said politely to my father. “Please, call me Andrew. We are like family now.” He eyed her empty plate as the waiter whisked it away. “You must have been very hungry. I hope you saved room for dessert?” “No, thank you,” she refused, “I don’t eat dessert.”
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