Vain (The Seven Deadly, #1)(60)

Just then the front door handle began to turn and we all faced the door. I couldn't help but notice Simon and Ian exchange a glance before it opened, but I couldn’t fully read it. All I caught was anxiety, but there was a very good chance that was all me.

I was so overwhelmed in that moment. I wanted to run and jump off the balcony and sink into that abyss then. Anything sounded better to me than meeting Ian’s parents. I didn’t know how much they knew of me, or what to expect of them. I wanted to kick myself for not preparing as my father had taught me to do.

“Always be aware, Sophie. Never let anyone take you by surprise,” he would say.

I shook the thoughts away.

Ian came next to me and wrapped his hand in mine. “No worries, Soph,” he whispered in my ear, soothing me almost immediately.

The door opened and two imposing figures emerged, talking shop, it seemed.

“No, Henrik,” the woman, who could only be Ian’s mother, said.

She was tall, very. Dark black hair and fair skin just like Ian’s. Her hair was stylishly short and met just below her ears. She was lean and striking and unbelievably intimidating. She was exquisite and I could see where Ian had learned “imposing” from. She invented it with the way she carried herself.

She’d stopped talking and stood staring at us. She’d mastered an expressionless face and she was wearing it then. It was no matter to me, because in that moment I remembered my breeding and immediately exuded my own brand of imposition.

The invisible projection hit her like the atom bomb and you could tell she was taken aback.

She and Ian’s dad, Henrik, laid their bags down on the rich, brown velveteen sofa sectional before approaching.

“Simon,” her velvety voice purred. “What have I told you about rolling up the sleeves of your dress shirts. You’ll crease. You’ll have to change before dinner tonight.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Simon said, smiling at her, “but I’ve made reservations at Aubergine’s, so I figure you’ll forgive me?” He oozed charm and I could suddenly see why all the girls gravitated toward him.

“Fine,” she said, a tight knowing smile gracing her lips.

Simon kissed his mother’s cheek before collapsing on the sofa.

“Ian,” his mother breathed. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Mom,” Ian said dryly, kissing her cheek as Simon had before turning. “Dad!” he exclaimed with more feeling and slapped his dad on the back. “So good to see you!”

“Happy to see you, my son,” Henrik said, kissing his son and bear hugging him.

“And who is this vision?” Henrik asked, motioning toward me.

“Dad, this is Sophie Price. Sophie, this is my father, Henrik.” He turned toward his mother. “Mom, Sophie Price. Soph, this is my mother, Abri.” He pronounced it Ay-Bree.

I stuck my hand out and shook Henrik’s. He shook it vigorously in return and with warmth. I turned toward Abri and extended my hand as well. She took it and something passed between us.

She knew.

She knew who I was and who my father was and, for whatever reason, she wanted me to know it.

“A pleasure,” she said, her perfectly coifed hair sliding forward slightly as she dipped her head in a thoroughly practiced gesture.

“Likewise,” I told her in my most uninterested voice.

She may have had a few inches on me, but it was obvious to everyone in that room that I was the bigger presence. It felt good. I turned toward Ian, glancing Simon’s way as I did, and caught their bewildered stares.

“So,” Abri interrupted the thick moment, “Sophie, Ian’s told me you work with him at Masego?”

“Yes.”

“And I also understand that you were caught with narcotics back home and that was what earned you that privilege?”

This lady wasn’t pulling any punches.

“Moeder!” Mother. Ian shouted in Afrikaans, coming to my side. “Ongevraag!” Uncalled for.

I coolly leaned into the countertop behind me, briefly examining my nails as I did so.

“It’s okay, Ian.” I met her gaze fully. “Yes, Abri, unfortunately I was, but it’s of no matter now.”

“That’s rather cheeky,” she added, looking on the verge of laughter. She thought she’d won.

“You misunderstand,” I answered. “If my bad decision led me to a place like Masego and exposed me to what life was really about, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Occasionally, some have to hit rock bottom to understand themselves fully, don’t you think? I plan on using mine to launch myself further than I ever could have had I never known Masego...or your son.”

“Well said,” Henrik told the quiet room, nodding toward me.

“Thank you,” I told him directly with a soft smile.

“Some know themselves without having to hit rock bottom,” Abri said, desperate for the last word.

I let her have it with a nod. She was right after all, but she was also was transparent to everyone in the room and her small statement only helped my cause.

“Shall we dress for dinner?” Simon asked everyone, attempting to break the tension.

“Let’s,” Abri said, her brows pinched as she examined me.