27 - Jessica

Jessica

"Oh, my little jellybean." My grandmother squeezed me into a hug. "As always, fashionably late." She kept me in arm's length, doing a quick inspection with her green eyes. "You look fabulous. Your mother is probably going to kill you."

"I know, grandma." I winked.

She gasped when she spotted Matthew beside me. "And you brought a handsome gentleman like you said you will." She gave him a quick appraising glance. "I'm sorry, I thought this was a prank. It took me a while to be sure you're actually with Jessica. It was a miracle to see you standing this close."

"Grandma." I protested.

"When Jessica told me she's bringing a plus one, I thought it's going to be another tattooed ass. To my surprise, she told me it's a Parkinson. And then surprises me again by bringing here the philanthropist Parkinson. She didn't bring you here at gunpoint, did she?"

"Oh, my fucking God. Grandma, stop." I laughed, a little embarrassed. "Matthew came with me out of the goodness of his heart. Right, Matty?"

Matthew puts on a shy smile, his dimple a thousand times adorable than usual.

And I swear, my grandmother swooned.

"I was brought here of my own free will. No guns involved." He says, a perfectly charming smile intact.

My grandmother laughs softly. "It's good that you're here. Alistair is circling the vicinity like a shark looking for Jessica. Sweetie, does he know about the thing with Alistair?"

"Grandma, he doesn't have to—"

She just went right on. "Alistair is one of those people who insist that they're a "good dude" and pretends he's a panty-dropper." She did a dramatic quotation mark in the air.

Matthew flinched at the word 'panty-dropper' and swung a glance my way.

I mouthed. 'Sorry.'

"But really just another asshole," Grandma continues. "A big narcissistic dickwad who needs to be boiled inside a pot until he learns about consent."

I froze. "Grandma."

She stiffened. In a blink of a second, she goes back on. "Anyways, thank you for coming. Now, I gotta go and wipe the sweat off my pits. I'll see you both in a bit. In the meantime, you guys can check out the bar. Party while you're young."

Grandma sashayed away.

"Sorry about that," I murmured.

"Trust me, she's nothing to apologize for," he reassures.

I smiled. "Some people can find her vibrant personality too... bright. But you don't have to worry about meeting someone else with that same vibe. My parents are on the other side of the spectrum. We're just going to say 'hi' and leave the party. Thirty minutes max."

"Okay. Do you want me to get you anything to drink?"

"No, no. Stay." My hand was clasped around his elbow before I could even realize it – wound so tightly that it probably felt urgent and resolute to him.

He nods with a smile. "Okay, then." He looks around. "I think it's your parents over there by the pool."

I followed his gaze. My father is chatting with a rigid looking woman. I've seen her at my mom's firm. He looked fail-proof – rigorous even –  in the suit and tie I've known him wore all my life. My mom have her back on us, but I'd recognize her anywhere. Her stiff as a board stance, her calculated responses and the striking red hair she never wore down.

As if she felt my gaze boring into her head, she slowly turns all the way around to our direction.

Her green eyes found mine.

For the slightest of moment, my chest tightened wistfully.

But then the all too familiar scowl formed on her face as she takes me in. Basically, she looked like she's staring at a huge middle finger which I intended in the first place.

"You know what? I think I'm not in the mood anymore to say hi," I said while sparring death glares with my mother.

Green eyes against green eyes. And that same stubbornness that makes neither of us willing to back down.

However, grandma inconveniently re-emerges from wherever she's gone and linked her arms with mine, making me break contact from the intense gaze sparring. "Let's go to your parents. Come, Matthew." She held onto his arm, leading us to the other side of the pool where my parents are.

"Lillian, Jordan, look who came by to surprise me."

My dad smiles. "Good to see you, honey." I stepped forward and gave him a quick hug. I then turned to my mother who looked like she's been stifling a storm inside.

"Hi, mom," I say sweetly. Just to spite her.

Her jaw clenches. "Jessica Agatha Keith, what are you wearing?" She questioned out in a hushed tone.

"It's Gucci," I answered with a bat of my lashes.

She gave me a black look.

My dad cleared his throat. "Hi, Matthew. It's nice to see you here."

"Well, he's jellybean's date," my grandmother announces.

A polite smile replaced the scowl on my mother's face. "Hi. So good to see you." She gave him a friendly air kiss while my dad opted for a one-arm "man hug."

I can't say I'm surprised that they know each other. My parents are big on charity events. Their paths would've crossed one way or another given Matthew's career. As if proving me right, they started talking about Matthew's charity program they said he was expanding to Asia. And then there's his project in Kenya which he happily updated them with.

It was the longest I have ever heard him talk. And there's the sparks in his eyes. They were almost... twinkling.

The more he talks about it, the more I realize he doesn't pursue philanthropy for public appraisal or any other egotistical reasons. It was simply in his compassionate bones to help.

"You know, if you stare any longer, he'll probably melt," my grandma whispered, standing so close to my ear.

I flinched. "Stop it," I whispered back.

She giggles softly and held my hand. "We're just going to grab drinks from the bar," she declared, earning their attention.

I look over to Matthew. "Any request?"

"I'm good." He smiles. There's this silent question in his eyes. 'Do you want me to come with?'

I shake my head. 'I'll be fine.'

He nods.

My grandmother and I weaved our way through crowds after crowds that wished her a happy birthday along the way. I spotted Alistair, but luckily, he didn't see me.

"Martinis, please." She hopped on a stool and rested her elbows on the bar.

I shake my head at the bartender. "Martini with lots of olives and pineapple juice."

He smiled in understanding.

My grandmother narrowed her eyes on me. "How dare you?"

"I'm keeping you healthy, young and beautiful." I shrugged and took my seat next to her.

"Martinis keep me young and beautiful."

"No. Alcohols were the main reason of your trips to the doctor, remember?" I said matter-of-factly.

"Fine. You sound like your mother," she murmurs to herself.

I chose to ignore it.

"Oh, shit. I think Alistair is coming over." She scoots closer to me. "I'm going to keep him busy long enough for you to scoot off."

"Okay. And don't drink my martini." I slid off my stool and told the bartender to cancel my martini. Just to be sure.

My grandmother frowns to herself. "Like mother, like daughter."

Again, I chose to ignore it.

I was on my way back to Matthew and my parents but decided against it. From the looks of it, they were just greatly entertained by him, and I'd hate to interrupt. But mostly because Matthew looked like he was finally in his zone.

I hope you enjoyed reading the chapter. I'm not going to say much. Just my sincere thanks for coming back to read new chapters no matter how long it takes me to post one. Just know that you are contributing optimism and positivity into my life.

Love you!