Because of His Future (For His Pleasure, Book 26) (7 page)

When they arrived at the front, Exley and
Vera and Liam’s father were there, and at first Grace was certain that they’d
be ignored.
 
Shunned.

But then Liam’s father stood up and
embraced his son and that seemed to break the ice.
 
Exley and Vera stood as well, as if
they’d been shamed into being better siblings than they might otherwise have
been.

Liam hugged his sister and brother, but
Grace just hung back, feeling uncertain of what she should do.
 
They all hated her and she knew it.

I
don’t belong here.
 
I don’t belong
with any of these people.

Scott
was right.

And then, Liam’s dad was embracing her as
well, wrapping his bearlike arms around her.
 
“Thanks for taking care of my son,” he
whispered in her ear.

When the hug ended and she looked at him,
the older man’s eyes were glimmering with unshed tears.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered.

Liam’s father smiled at her.
 
“Ditto.”

And then they took their seats.
 
Liam grabbed her hand again and she
turned and gave him a comforting smile.
 
Liam’s face was ashen and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

Grace wondered if perhaps she hadn’t been
a little harsh in judging Liam’s father.
 
He’d initially struck her as somehow sleazy, not quite right.
 
She’d immediately mistrusted him, but
now he was showing her the error of her ways.

Liam’s father was the only one being
halfway decent to them in this time of crisis.

The service itself was moving and
beautiful.

One of the world’s most renowned opera
singers sang a gorgeous hymn that brought everyone in the church to tears.

Vera gave her mother’s eulogy and talked
about what it was like to grow up in the shadow of a powerful woman, a
matriarch who could rival the fearsomeness of Margaret Thatcher or Hillary
Clinton.

But Vera mentioned that in the end, what
she would most remember and miss about her mother was the fountain of love and
commitment to family that she’d always displayed.

“No matter what,” Vera said, “My mother
taught me that
family
is the most
important thing.
 
And it will always
be there, as long as you don’t forget it’s there.”
 

And it was surely no coincidence, Grace
thought, that at this last line, Vera’s eyes were locked on Liam.

For the rest of the service, Grace was
lost in thoughts, her mind spinning as she thought about the little tea party
with Liam’s sister yesterday.
 
It
was difficult to sit in enemy territory, knowing that all of the powerful
people in that old and famous church thought she was an interloper.

But as long as Liam kept his hand on her
hand, she felt that it was all worth it.

Finally, mercifully, the mass was over
and they were leaving to drive to the cemetery.

The procession of cars took seemingly
forever to get to the Ferncliff Cemetery.
 

In the limousine, Liam was calm and
subdued, mostly looking out the window and occasionally texting on his cell
phone.

Grace got her own text from her brother Scott.

I just saw you on TV at St Patricks
Cathedral.
 

She didn’t respond to him, suspicious as
she was of what he would say next.
 
Grace wasn’t in the mood to read texts from Scott telling her that she
shouldn’t have been there, didn’t fit in, or whatever else he might try and
tell her.

When they stopped at the cemetery, Liam
took a deep breath before getting out of the car.

Grace felt so far removed from Liam, and
her heart sank as she realized that he probably felt all alone, too.
 
But then he turned and looked at her
over his shoulder.
 
And he reached
back and took her hand.
 
“Stay with
me, babe.”

“Of course,” she whispered.

Liam smiled and it lit up her heart
because, yes—this still worked.
 
They hadn’t been broken.

His smile said that she didn’t need to
worry just because Liam was having a sad day.
 
It was his mother’s funeral.

Of course he was sad.

We’re
still close.
 

She took a deep breath and nodded her
head.

They walked with the other mourners up
the pathway and through the cemetery.
 
Eventually, they reached the cemetery plot where his mother was to be
buried.

Standing next to Liam, the sky was
turning overcast and the mood was quiet and tense.
 
The group of mourners was large and
Grace felt out of place, like some kind of fraud.

After all, Liam’s mother had hated
her.
 

And Grace hadn’t exactly felt much love for
the woman, either.

Liam and Exley and a few other men were
pallbearers, carrying the ornate, gleaming casket.

She found herself drifting away during
the rest of the ceremony, as the casket was lowered into the ground.

Liam had returned to stand next to her,
even though his brother and sister were in seats up close to the grave.
 
She appreciated that he wanted to be
next to her, but her mind kept spinning and spinning.

The day was so grim and so thick with
unspoken tension, and somehow Grace felt she was at the center of it all.
 
It was almost too much, but then she
remembered that Liam needed her to be strong.

When the ceremony was finished, she
breathed a sigh of relief, as Liam began mingling, shaking hands and hugging
old friends and relatives.

Nobody looked at her or spoke much to
her, other than a polite “hello” or “nice to meet you” when Liam introduced
her.

It was clear that everyone knew who she
was already—her reputation had preceded her.

I’m
the one that ruined the Houston dynasty.

That’s
how I’ll always be known.

***

After the funeral, Liam explained to her
that a large contingent of the mourners were going to a nearby restaurant which
had been rented out for their use.

They were in the limousine when she told
him that maybe she should just go back to the hotel and wait for him.

“Why?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because,” Grace said, shaking her
head.
 
“I don’t know any of these
people, and I don’t fit in.”

“Come on,” Liam said, giving her puppy
dog eyes.
 
“It’ll be different.
 
Most of them are my old college buddies
and everyone’ll be drinking and more relaxed.
 
Like a party.”

“I don’t know,” she said, feeling a sense
in her gut that she didn’t want to do this.

But Liam continued to prod her.
 
“Please, Grace,” he said finally.
 
“I need you.
 
I can’t do this alone.”

And again, she felt that responsibility
to be there for him, to show her love and prove herself.

The car pulled over and despite the fact
that she truly wanted nothing more than to stay in the car and be driven back
to the hotel—Grace got out of the car and went into the swanky restaurant
with him.

Just before they went inside, he grabbed
her hand again and looked at her.
 
“Stay with me,” he said.

“Of course,” she replied.

He leant in and kissed her softly on the
lips and made it all worthwhile.

Then they walked inside, and Liam was
instantly swarmed by a mob of men—some of the very same ones that she’d
seen that day at Easton’s wedding.

Or maybe they all just looked alike.
 
Rich, elite, having grown up privileged
and wealthy, their smiles and haircuts and fancy clothes a testament to
everything Grace wasn’t and would never be.

Easton and Red were down the far end of
the bar, drinking together.
 
She
almost went over and then remembered that they’d just fired her.

So Grace stood awkwardly near Liam as he
was handed a shot and a beer and dutifully drank both in record time.

There were women in the restaurant,
too.
 
Women that couldn’t wait to
make sad faces and hug Liam and tell them how sorry they were for his loss.

It was difficult to stand there and watch
these beautiful, privileged people congregating and knowing that she really was
outside of it all.

Nobody wanted to talk to her.

It wasn’t an obvious shunning, so much as
there was just a lack of any real effort to include her or speak to her.
 
She might have a quick two-minute
conversation with someone who seemed to be looking past her the entire time.

But it was so clear that she wasn’t up to
par in this society.

And Liam was busy talking, laughing,
drinking.

Grace went to the bar to order a beer for
lack of anything better to do.
 
But
even at the bar, the bartenders were busy serving everyone else and seemed to
ignore her.
 
After they’d asked for
the orders of people standing next to her and even behind her, Grace finally
lost her patience.

She felt stupid and insignificant.

“Am I invisible or something?” she
finally asked nobody in particular.

The lack of answer was her answer.

But then a hand fell on her
shoulder.
 
Smiling, she turned,
expecting to finally see Liam there, coming to her rescue.
 
But it wasn’t Liam.

It was Easton.
 
“Buy you a drink?” he asked, his
expression one of sympathy.

Grace nodded, swallowing as she strived
to control her emotion.
 
Just that
one little gesture meant so much.
 
“That would be lovely,” she replied.

Easton got the bartender’s attention with
a quick snap of his fingers, and he ordered two beers and two shots.

When the liquor arrived, he paid and as
Grace thanked him, he waved her off.
 
“Don’t even think about it,” he said, quickly knocking back a shot.

Grace laughed.
 
“I must really look pathetic if you came
over to talk to me,” she said.

“Have that shot right now,” he said.
 

“Is that an order?” she asked.
 
“Because I’m pretty sure you fired me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Easton grinned.
 
“Once a boss, always a boss.”

Grace laughed again and did the
shot.
 
It made her choke a little,
then cough, and then she closed her eyes and licked her lips.
 
“Whew.”
 

“Just what the doctor ordered,” Easton
said.

Grace opened her eyes and grabbed her
beer.
 
“Thanks for talking to me,”
she said.
 
“I feel a little out of
place here, if you couldn’t tell.”

Easton sighed.
 
“You’re not as out of place as you
think.”

“Could’ve fooled me.
 
I feel like I’ve got Community College
tattooed across my forehead or something.”

“That’s bullshit,” Easton said.
 
“It’s more like ‘I hate spoiled rich
kids’ tattooed across your forehead.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Kind of,” he chuckled.
 
“But don’t worry, we all hate spoiled
rich kids.
 
Even the ones who
actually were spoiled rich kids.”

Grace found herself watching Liam and one
of his buddies squaring off in a mock boxing match.
 
They slap-boxed with one hand, while in
the other, their beer bottles tilted precariously, spilling here and there
while everyone cheered.

“Sure does love to fight, doesn’t he?”
Grace murmured.

“He’s not half-bad either,” Easton
said.
 
“Just needs to mature a
little.”

“You mean as a fighter or a person?”

“Both,” Easton said.
 
He turned towards her and leaned in
slightly.
 
“Don’t take it all so
personally, Grace.
 
You’re going to
have to be tough to get through this in one piece.”

“I’m not sure I can do it.
 
I already feel like I’ve been chipped
away at—like pieces of me are scattered all over the place.”

“Maybe you’re just being molded down,
filed down until the strongest part of you is all that’s left,” Easton said.