Only, I have a princess of a grandmother compared to Jake’s parents.
That’s why, when the tabloids got pictures of me with Jake, and we told them we weren’t really dating, they got pissed.
“How could you possibly let aBrightonslip away? Do you realize how terrible that makes us look? You should have proposed to her the moment you found out who she was and not just befriended her. You stupid boy. You could have had it all, for yourself and for us.”
Those were the first words I’d ever heard from Jake’s asshat of a dad. I remember the way he spat out my dad’s last name as if I was defined by it and not the one I use. He talked about me as if I were his property. Not that he knew I was listening; it was just easy to hear everything over the way he was yelling at Jake on the phone. Jake does need a fiancée before we graduate, and I guess I was one of the best contenders.
After that day, there were never any pictures of Jake and me together in the papers again. Eventually, the paparazzi stopped coming around Driscoll altogether. His dad’s company owns a lot of media outlets, and the ones he doesn’t, fear him.
My phone vibrates on the sink, and the name on the screen makes me smile.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, Pumpkin. How are ya?”
His chipper voice makes me grin even more. It’s been two weeks since I’ve heard from him, except for the occasional text, because of his business trips, and that’s way too long to go without talking to either of my parents.
“Your mom is here too.”
“Hi, honey!”
There’s honking nearby, and their voices sound a little distant, which likely means they’re returning from the airport.
“Hey to both of you. How was Italy?”
“È stato fantastico,” my dad says with an exaggerated Italian accent.
“And boring,” my mom adds. “Lots of work and very little time to shop and roam around.”
“That sucks,” I say absentmindedly while fixing my purse.
Both of them tell me more about their trip and about my dad’s hotels, along with my mom’s offices, they had to visit. Some I’m familiar with and others I haven’t been to yet.
“I got you a present from Milan, Em,” Mom says excitedly. “I’ll give it to you the next time you come home.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” But I know that, just like me, my mom loves fashion and anything makeup related. Considering her family owns one of the most luxurious body product brands in the United States and Europe, it’s a given. The brand is slowly making its way across the rest of the world thanks to my dad’s properties carrying the products.
I quickly check my phone and see that there are only two minutes left until Grayson’s lecture starts.
“Guys, I’m so sorry, but I have to go. There’s this lecture I’m headed to for the paper.” I grab my things and wedge my phone between my shoulder and ear.
“All right, Pumpkin, don’t wear yourself out too much.”
“We’re keeping up with all your articles, honey, and we’re so proud. We love you,” Mom says softly and sweetly.
Smiling while also panicking, I say, “Thanks, guys. I love you too.”
We say our final goodbyes as my hand turns the knob to the entrance of the lecture room. The second I step in, and the door swings shut, everyone’s eyes turn to me, including Professor Hayes’s.
Crap. Looks like everyone arrived a little early.
Grayson lifts a brow, and I’m momentarily distracted by his hair that is in perfect shape, and by the way the sleeves of his button-down shirt are rolled up, showing his strong forearms.
One of my knee-quivering weaknesses.
I know most people here have a major crush on him.
“It’s nice of you to join us, Ms. Haywood.” I look at him and shrug with an embarrassed smile that sayssorry. He gives me a once-over behind his glasses. “Go ahead and find a spot. We were just about to start.”