His Price by Leah Holt Page B

honest? Be yourself, Noella. Just be yourself.
    “I live in Providence, but grew up in Coventry, Sir.” Curling my fingers around each other, I smiled coyly.
    “Providence, I have an office up there. Do you go to school? Hegan decided against it. Even though I could have gotten him into any college he wanted.”
    “Dad, come on. Don't make this about me. I didn't bring her to meet you just so you could rag on me the entire time.” His nostrils flared angrily, brows dipping down. “We can just—”
    “I was in school,” I chimed in, cutting him off. “I had started at Johnson and Whales, was there for two years until...” Gripping the napkin, I rolled it between my fingers.
    “Until?” Brandon asked, sipping on his glass of Chardonnay.
    “It's complicated, but I'll be going back next year, hopefully.” Damn, his dad made me so uncomfortable. He never broke his stare, never cracked a smile; he just glared.
    “School is important. That shouldn't be something you wave under the rug.” Speaking into his glass, he said, “Like my son.”
    The royal touch of his wife, crawled across his shoulder. “Brandon, let's change the subject. Noella, your dress, it's...” Stella looked me up and down, her body shifting against the seat. “Nice.” I could hear the distaste in her words. Each one was lifeless, sought out as the best compliment she could find.
    I could tell what she really thought; that I looked like a slut.
    And I couldn't blame her for it either. She was the wealthy wife of a high profile businessman. Her world was lavished with jewels and fancy things that no person in the real world would ever think to buy.
    I could bet any money the small, silver chain wrapping her wrist cost more than my car. And her earrings, cut diamonds tiered in sets, cost as much as my parents house.
    These people had lost touch with reality, with normalcy.
    Unfortunately, not all of us are blessed with endless bank accounts and gold taste for useless things.
    “Thank you.” I ran my hands over my ribs as I said, “You know I bet this color would look great on you.” Smirking, I glanced over at Hegan. A subtle smile was peeking from the corner of his mouth.
    “No Dear, I couldn't pull that off. Maybe when I was your age, but not now.” Stella laughed, a laugh of sophistication mixed with humor.
    Maybe she wasn't as uptight as I thought. At least she joked about it.
    “Stella, settle yourself.” Brandon jerked his head towards his wife, unhappy about her relaxed comment.
    “Dad, she's joking. Lighten up, shit.” Hegan's hand fell on top of the table, knocking the silverware together.
    “Hegan. Do not speak like that at this table.” His father snapped at him, chest holding down the air he wanted to use to yell at his son. “Noella, what do your parents do for work?”
    “Dad, stop with the interrogation already,” Hegan said, palming his forehead.
    I wasn't sure exactly what Hegan knew about me. He knew what I did for work, about my mother being sick. But did he also know my dad was a janitor and my mom, before the cancer, was a maid?
    Either way, it was clear to me; any of what my life was, would never be good enough for Brandon Alexander.
    “Yes, Brandon. Let's keep this lunch light. There will be plenty of time to get all the details.” His mother grinned at me from across the table as her eyes shifted between mine and the glass of wine to her right. “Would you like some wine, Dear?”
    “Please,” I said. That woman could have offered me anything, and I would have taken it to help ease the flutters bouncing around my stomach.
    “Alright. Noella, do you have any interest in government affairs?”
    “Well, that depends. If you're talking about straight politics, then not exactly. If you want to talk about state budgets and how they're spent, then I'm all ears.”
    Brandon tilted his head to his shoulder. “Budgets, huh? I'm a man of money, so budgets are right up my alley.” Waving at the waiter, he