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12. Megan

I showered and dressed as inappropriately as I could. My skirt was too short, my shirt too tight and too low and my make up too heavy for dinner with the parents. I surveyed myself in the mirror. Time for act two.

I picked up my phone, and quickly sent a text to Joe

I'm going down to face the music. Wait twenty minutes before you join me xx

I skipped down the stairs, humming to myself.

"I don't know what you're so happy about young lady," my father's voice interrupted me from below. "In here right now. We need to talk."

I followed him into the drawing room and threw myself into a leather armchair as he poured himself a whiskey from the many decanters on the side board. He didn't offer me anything.

"Mind telling me what exactly you're playing at?" he fixed me with a steely gaze and it took all my effort to hold it.

I had nothing to be ashamed of. But I had a habit of wilting under his scrutiny.

"I don't think I know what you mean," I answered casually, shrugging my shoulders.

"Don't start that with me, Miss," he scolded me like a five year old. Nice to know nothing had changed in my absence. "What kind of show were you putting on with your boyfriend?" he spat the last word, the distaste heavy in his voice.

"It's called sex, Daddy. You know that thing you do with your secretary," I shot back.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Show some respect, young lady."

I snorted. "Try earning it," I angered quickly at him. He met my eyes, and I saw only coldness there. He dropped his eyes, taking in my outfit.

"What the hell are you trying to prove, Megan? Dressing like a whore, acting like a slut, bringing losers home to this house." There it was again. The ever present disappointment which marred every conversation I could ever remember having with him.

"Joe is not a loser," I replied quietly.

"Oh, really," he exclaimed, relishing my squirming "do tell me what his prospects are then, Megan. What high flying job does he have that's going to impress me?"

"Everything doesn't have to be about you Daddy," I yelled, standing to face him. "I don't ask for a CV when I fall in love you know."

"Avoiding the question doesn't change anything. What does he do for a living Megan?" he stepped forward, too, challenging me.

"He's a musician. He's in a band," I threw back at him.

His laughter caught me off guard. I stood and watched him as he openly mocked me with it.

"A musician," he gasped through his humourless laughter.

He was still wiping at his eyes as Joe knocked timidly at the door.

"Ah, here he is. The musician who's fucking my daughter under my roof." The venom as he spat the words at Joe shocked even me. "Come on in. Show me some more disrespect."

I caught Joe's eye, trying to send him apologies through my eyes. He simply winked at me and I let myself relax a little. At least he didn't hate me for the position I had put him in. He entered the room, sitting in the chair beside me and tangling his fingers in mine.

"Uh, sir," he began, his lisp more pronounced than normal. "I know what you must think of me. I am sorry if I've shown disrespect to you in your own home. But I assure you, I love your daughter and I would never do anything to hurt her."

My heart melted at his words. Unfortunately he had mistaken my father for someone who gave a damn about my feelings. The contemptuous look he threw at Joe said more than a million words would have.

He ignored his words, stalking towards the door.

"We have company for dinner. Get into the dining room now and if you embarrass me tonight Megan, you will regret it."





My mouth dropped open as I entered the dining room and saw Brett Taylor grinning back at me. Oh, God this would be interesting.

"Megan," my mother exclaimed, her eyes popping open as she took in my outfit. "You are not dressed appropriately for dinner." She threw Brett's mother a 'look'.

I sighed heavily, grabbing Joe's hand and dragging him around the table.

"Well hello, mother it's good to see you too. And yes, I will introduce you to my boyfriend. This is Joe," I answered sarcastically, dropping into a chair and gesturing for Joe to sit beside me.

Brett leered at me. And glared at Joe. I simply sneered back at him.

"Well, hello, uh, Joe," my mother said distastefully, eyeing his tattoos and tight jeans. She started introductions around the table.

"Oh, we've already met, haven't we Joe?" Brett replied when she got to him. "And I nearly met with your fist, for no apparent reason." He looked like butter wouldn't melt. Asshole.

"Fuck you, Brett," I spat at him "you were being an asshole."

The conversation stopped dead at my words.

"Megan, watch your mouth," my father warned me, then turning to Brett's parents "Trevor, Hilary, I apologise for my daughter. I just don't know what kind of company she's keeping in Chicago." He looked pointedly at Joe.

I reached for Joe's hand under the table, squeezing it. He gave me a small tight smile.



"Better than the company she keeps here," he muttered, making me giggle.

Brett watched us closely, a cruel glint in his eye. I eyed him suspiciously. He cleared his throat, eager to gain my father's attention.

"So, Megan. Have you told your father your super news," he began, watching my reaction.

A cold feeling of dread passed over me. I had no idea what he was going to say.

"What's this Megan?" He quickly took the bait, eyeing me curiously.

"Well, Mr McCormack," Brett butted in, giving me no chance " the DA's office in Chicago has offered Megan a job when she finishes up law school. They were so impressed with her internship last summer. Our Professor was so pleased, he announced it to the class. Hasn't she told you?"

I felt the colour drain from my face. Joe squeezed my hand and I gripped onto his for support. Oh, shit.

"Internship?" my father whispered. I saw his lips turn white as he pressed them together. "You did an internship for the DA?" The quietness of his tone masked the fury I could see simmering behind his eyes.

I dropped my eyes. I hadn't told him. He had strictly forbade me from doing that internship. He said it was below a child of his. I had lied and said I was working for a big corporate firm in Chicago. One of the only ones I knew he had no contacts in.

"Uh, yes," I mumbled, scared to look at him. God, he had the ability to reduce me to a nervous wreck with two sentences.

"How dare you. How dare you go against my wishes," his voice remained low, but I knew this tone too well.

"I thought it would be good experience. I learned a lot Daddy," I stuttered out.

"You learned how to mix with common criminals. Is that where you met this one?" he spat.

"That is out of order, Daddy," I shouted, losing my temper.

Joe stood up. "You know, I don't have to sit here and be insulted just because I'm not like you," he pointed at my father. "God forbid your daughter could have a mind of her own. Shouldn't you be proud of her? She got this job because she's the best in her class, and all you can do is insult her!"

The silence was deafening. My mother and Mrs Taylor sat open-mouthed and staring at Joe. No one ever spoke back to my father like that. Brett was clearly struggling to keep his glee under wraps.

My father rose to his feet, staring Joe in the eye. "I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand. You have no concept of having a family with a reputation to protect."

I threw my napkin on the table. "Well, it's sure nice to be home," I heard the catch in my own voice, as I held back the tears.

There were people in my class who were green with envy when I was offered that job. People who's parents would have burst with pride had their son or daughter come home and told them they had an amazing job before they had even finished school. It hurt me so much that the reaction I got was pure horror.

"Your precious reputation means more to you than I do. Well, you know what, Daddy, Joe is twice the man you are. I am so ashamed of this family. I am so ashamed to be part of it," I felt the tears spill down my cheeks as the words tumbled out of my mouth, garbled and rushed.

Joe's arm went around my shoulders to support me as I broke down.

My father looked at me with no trace of emotion.

"Get out of my sight, you disgust me" he muttered.

As Joe led me out of the door, tears blinding me, I was also ashamed of myself. Because his words hurt me more than I could admit.