Chapter five

Claire's POV

"Mom?" she asked, confused tone creeping into her voice.

I blinked, dragged back to reality, spreading my lips to a firm, anxious smile. "Oh, sorry." I shook his hand quickly retracting my hand.

“You okay?" Sophie asked, inspecting my countenance.

“Yes," I said too hastily. "I'm just tired, that's all."".

Ryan smiled cordially at me. "It's wonderful to finally meet you, Mrs. Lawson. Sophie never ceases to tell me about all of you.”

I smiled blushfully. "Good things, I hope?"

“All good things," he smiled. That very same smile I recall that evening—the one which made my heart pound and head spin.

I tried to avoid looking and said, "I'm glad to finally get to welcome the man that my daughter won't stop talking about. Congratulations to both of you."

Sophie smiled and snuggled back into him. "Thanks, Mom."

Ryan pointed to the car that was parked along the road. "Shall we? Dinner's waiting, and my mother will be delighted to meet you finally.”

The drive to his house was long but calm and filled with Sophie’s enthusiastic voice. Sophie bubbled on happily, but I barely paid attention. I was spinning in my mind.

How could it happen? What sort of wicked coincidence was this? I couldn't help stealing occasional peeks in the rearview mirror to check on Ryan, but not once did he turn around. He chimed in as Sophie kept talking, eyes on the road, as if nothing was out of order in the world. He totally ignored me, and it hurt in a way.

When we finally arrived, I almost gasped. The house - house was an understatement , the mansion—was ginormous. There were golden lights along the long driveway, and uniformed butlers greeted us at the door. Sophie let out a silent giggle next to me, clearly awestruck.

"Ryan, that's awesome, wow," she whispered.

Ryan smiled. "My mom has a certain way she likes things done."

Of course she does, I muttered to myself as we exited the car.

The front door opened , and two maids ushered us in. The interior was breathtaking, from the floors, to the walls, everything screamed luxury . I knew I didn't belong here the second my eye saw the chandelier.

An elegant lady descended the staircase in a gracious, straight-backed, polite yet formal expression of her face. "Ryan," she said sweetly, a wide smile on her face .

Ryan's smile widened. "Mom, this is Sophie, and this is Claire Lawson, her mom. Claire, Sophie, this is my mother, Margaret, Margaret Hale.”

Margaret's eyes snapped to Sophie first. "Oh, you're the pretty young woman entertaining my son."

Sophie smiled and flushed. "I'll take it as a compliment."

Then Margaret's eyes landed on me. She glanced at me from head to toe. She didn't smile in her eyes tho she did on her lips . "And you are Mrs. Lawson. Come in."

“Thanks," I said softly. She glances at my plain dress, my plain shoes, and I knew she was calculating every inch of me. And still, she holds onto that strained, polite smile. "Come in. Dinner is served."

The dining room was magazine-perfect-long, shiny table, silver that was more expensive than I paid in rent. I sat down at the far end of the table from Margaret, on a mission to get myself together.

"Well," Margaret started as plates were placed before us by the servers, "Sophie tells us you do marketing?"

I floundered. "I did. I'm between employment right now."

She raised an eyebrow slightly. "Oh? Well, that's okay. Not everyone is cut out for the corporate life."

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Mom's really good at her job."

Oh, she is," Margaret said, waving a hand. "It's just… stability is a plus, in general, when becoming a member of a family like ours."

I bit my tongue. I clenched my fists under the table. I could feel my heart pounding—not merely with irritation, but with the aching frustration of sitting across the table from Ryan, as if we both didn't have something ugly we were hiding.

Ryan scowled at his mother. "Mom, Claire's her own business. Let's eat dinner."

She smiled tightly. "Of course. Just small talk."

The dinner went on in the same vein—Margaret spewing snide, but polite, comments about "standards," "breeding," and "presentation." She even went so far as to lecture Sophie on poor table manners, informing her she was "so adorably unrefined." I was ready to fire back, but I remained silent.

But Ryan had been nice to his mother more than I had anticipated. When she had been snapping at him, he had responded immediately, joking with her at times in order to keep things in line.

After dessert, Margaret recovered her composure and said, "Sophie, sweetie, you just have to let me take you both out shopping someday. I will see that you and your mother are just perfect for the engagement party."

Sophie smiled graciously. "That is very nice of you, Mrs. Hale."

Her smile tightened. "It's Margaret, dear. Mrs. Hale makes me sound like a relic of the past.

I attempted a weak laugh, though my gut was roiling. I didn't think I was sitting there pretending to be fine while the guy sitting next to my daughter had witnessed me bare.

Finally, after an eternity, dinner was completed. Sophie and I stood to depart, and Ryan escorted us out to the vehicle.

"Thanks for visiting," I managed in a tight tone.

Ryan smiled politely. "Thanks for coming by. And. sorry my mom was too much. She tries her best."

It's fine," I huffed. "I've entered worse."

Sophie grinned. "This was a great night. I think your mom is funny."

When we had finally arrived at home, tension between Sophie and me existed and hung in the air. I was still in shock, and I sighed heavily. I could not hold it back anymore. When Sophie dropped her bag onto the table, I faced her. "I've got something to tell you, Sophie.”