Bad Bridesmaid (Billionaire's Club Book 11) by Elise Faber (important books to read txt) 📕

love her? How dare I be so fucking proud of her for doing something she is incredible at, something she enjoys?”

“I don’t care if she plays at the lab,” Collen said with a sniff. “She still doesn’t have the important things. Plus, she hardly ever sees us.”

“I wonder why,” he growled. “With a mother like you, it’s a wonder she even let you walk through her door this morning. Oh wait, I was the one who let you in.” A beat as gasps surrounded the table. “Your daughter likely would have used that big juicy brain of hers to slam the door in your face—”

“That’s enough.”

His own mother’s voice was probably the only thing that could have stopped him in that instance.

He glanced over at her, vision tinged red with fury.

She cupped his cheek. “Honey, that’s enough.”

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he nodded, sat back down.

“What manners,” Colleen huffed.

“Colleen—” Frank warned.

She ignored him, her chin lifting somewhere in the level of the atmosphere. “I’ve never had anyone speak to me in such a way,” she said. “Maybe I don’t want such a man to date my daughter.”

“Enough, Mom,” Heidi said. “That’s—”

“The rudeness is just . . . inexplicable. I’ve never said a cross word to anyone and—”

A muscle in his mom’s jaw twitched, but she merely glanced over at Marabelle.

Who nodded.

“I think it’s time to leave,” his mom said.

“Yes”—Colleen placed her napkin on the table—“it’s getting late. This dinner should have ended long ago—”

“No,” Marabelle said, standing up and striding into the hall, where she opened the front door. “What I mean is that you should go, and the rest of us will enjoy our evening.”

Colleen froze in the middle of collecting her purse. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me fine,” Marabelle said. “I won’t tell you not to come back because I’m not the kind of person who closes doors on other people. Hence, the reason you’re back here in my house, despite the rudeness you showed the last time you visited.” She crossed her arms. “However, I will tell you that as of this moment, you certainly will not be welcomed back in this house unless you’re prepared to treat everyone with respect and understanding, including your lovely, wonderful daughter.”

Heidi blinked rapidly, her gaze falling to the table. “Mom,” she said. “Please, just go.” Brad took her hand. She pulled away, held them tightly in her lap.

“Well, I never—”

Frank seemed to finally grow a pair. “Colleen,” he snapped. “That is more than enough.”

She whirled on him, glaring darkly. “Don’t you dare—”

He stood abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor. “Don’t you see that you’re embarrassing yourself? That you’re embarrassing your daughter?” His shoulders straightened. “And me. You’re embarrassing me.” A beat, his eyes, so similar to Heidi’s skimmed the table. “You need to apologize. To everyone.”

Colleen crossed her arms and glared at the ceiling.

Frank sighed, pushed in the chair, and kissed Heidi—whose expression had turned bleak, her eyes reddened, her skin dull and pale—on the cheek. “My apologies for my wife’s inexcusable rudeness,” he said to the table and grabbed their two jackets from the hook, draping them over one arm, before his eyes went to Marabelle’s. “I hope that if we are ever given the honor of an invitation to your wonderful home again that my wife will find her manners. Either that, or you can feel free to leave her off the invite.”

Colleen bristled. “How—”

“I,” he said, speaking loud enough to drown out Colleen, “on the other hand, cannot thank you enough for the care you’ve shown my daughter.” His gaze went to Heidi, who had dropped her eyes to her folded hands. “Thank you for giving that to her.” His voice dropped. “She deserves it and so much more. She deserves all the happiness in the world.” A squeeze to her shoulder before he cleared his throat, his volume increasing, forced cheerfulness in his tone. “We’ll let you folks get on with your night. I’m sure you’ll have a much better time without us.”

With that, he snagged Colleen’s arm and dragged the still-sputtering woman out the front door.

A heartbeat later, Marabelle slammed it behind them.

Then locked it, rubbing her hands together.

“I meant it when I said I don’t normally close doors on people.” She rolled her head from side to side. “But damn, did that feel good.”

She laughed, and the room joined in.

But not the whole room. Because his ears prickled, realizing that someone’s laugh had been missing.

Not someone’s.

Heidi’s.

Because she was gone.

Twenty-Six

Heidi

She was hiding in the darkened shadows of Kate’s parent’s back yard and wondering if she could dig a hole deep enough to hide in when Brad found her.

Hands around her waist, a firm chest at her spine.

Just holding her silently for long moments.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered when she could speak without sobbing.

“For what?”

A startled laugh as she spun in his arms. “For what?” she asked. “For what?” She shook her head. “She was being awful, doing the same stuff she always does, and I couldn’t break that fucking cycle. I just sat there like a fucking lump, taking it.” She pushed away from him then stalked away. “I just let her treat me like shit.”

“First,” he said, coming up behind her and snagging her hand. “It was damned hard trying to get a word in edgewise with the woman.” He tugged her toward him. “Second, sometimes it’s not the easiest telling people you love that they’re out of line.” He smoothed back her hair. “Third, I repeat, there was not a lot of room in that conversation for more words, even though I do seem to remember you telling her to stop.”

“She didn’t listen, though, did she?”

“Does she listen to anyone?”

He had a point there.

“No.” But . . . God she was so fucking embarrassed. That scene was just one of those special moments her mother excelled at creating and then adding in the rest of her behavior. It was right up there with the nuclear explosion of her parents’ first meeting