Redemption Road (Vicious Cycle #2)(8)



But while they had always underestimated my talents, I had silently pursued them. After graduating with a 4.0 in biology from the University of Virginia, I shocked my parents by going through with graduate school applications in veterinary medicine. While I had originally been accepted and begun coursework at the University of Virginia, I found myself itching to spread my wings and be independent. At first my parents would hear nothing of the sort. The only way I had finally convinced them to pay for my continued education away from home was to appease them by going to Texas A& M. Their choice had nothing to do with the fact that it was one of the top ten veterinary schools in the country. No, it was about what a politically important state Texas was.

As I slid into my car, my phone began to ring. Glancing at the caller ID, I groaned. “Speak of the devil,” I muttered. It was the one person sure to kill the happy buzz I was feeling. “Hi, Mother,” I said, forcing myself to sound pleased to talk to her.

“Hello, darling. I just wanted to call and check in. Daddy and I were wondering how Texas was treating you.” Regardless of the miles and miles between us, I could still register the fake concern in my mother’s voice. Considering that she had yet to call me to see how I was doing after the move, I knew there was a more self-serving purpose for her call—one that involved my plans for the evening.

“You mean you just wanted to call to make sure Preston Bradford and I were still going out tonight.”

My mother’s trill of a laugh grated on my last nerve. “Okay, fine, you caught me. I was dying to know if it was still on.”

My parents, along with their close friends the Bradfords, who lived in Houston, relished the fantasy that Preston and I were going to get married, not only uniting two political powerhouse families but also producing the marriage of the future president and first lady. I’m not sure how they had made the quantum leap from Preston and me merely talking to wedding bells, but if it kept them off my back for any length of time, I was willing to indulge them.

“Yes. He’s picking me up at seven.”

“That’s absolutely wonderful. I knew there was a spark between you two at the Bradfords’ Fourth of July party.”

I snorted. “The only spark between us at the party was when he accidentally caught my bathing suit cover-up on fire.” If Preston were ever elected president, he would probably outdo Gerald Ford in the clumsy department. It had been far too early in the party for him to use the excuse of being drunk. Instead, he could only blame himself for tripping over a chair and collapsing on a table, which knocked off a candle that hit the hem of my caftan. The only reason I hadn’t entirely written him off that day was because of how sincere he was when he apologized and how kind he was by looking after me for the rest of the party.

“For goodness’ sake, don’t mention that tonight. He gets enough teasing from his family about his clumsiness. The last thing he needs is to hear it from a date.”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “I wouldn’t dream of it, Mother. You know, I do know how to carry on a meaningful conversation with a man. You do remember sending me to summer finishing school, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, of course. I just don’t want you saying or doing anything to turn him off. He’s already so accepting of the fact you plan to have a career.”

“I will have a career,” I corrected.

My mother’s exasperated sigh told me she was maxed out with me being “petulant,” as she called it. “Yes, well, just have fun. Okay?”

“Thank you. I’ll try.”

“And let Daddy and me know how it went as soon as you can.”

“Mother, I’m twenty-four, not sixteen.”

“Annabel”— my mother’s voice rose an octave—“just humor us, okay?”

“Fine, fine,” I muttered, feeling the onset of the usual headache that accompanied talking to my mother.

“Good-bye, then.”

“Good-bye.” I hung up and tossed the phone onto the seat.

I battled rush-hour traffic across town to my apartment, then hurried inside to get ready. After a quick shower, I stood in front of my closet, trying to decide what to wear. Normally a first date called for something sexy, but in this case I didn’t figure Preston and his overly conservative background would appreciate it. I decided on a pair of jeans, a dressy green top, and heels, and had just finished with my makeup and hair when the doorbell rang.

When I threw open the door, Preston, looking preppie and polished in a polo shirt and khakis, gave me a beaming smile. “Annabel, it’s so good to see you again.”

Returning his smile, I said, “It’s good seeing you again, too.”

His blue eyes surveyed me apprehensively. “You know, after our first disastrous meeting at my parents’, I was afraid you might not want to ever be seen with me again.”

I groaned inwardly but managed to wave my hand dismissively. I had to wonder how socially inept he was to even bring that up. “That was nothing. I’m glad to have a chance to get to know you better.”

Preston seemed to appreciate my well-thought-out answer. “Let’s go to dinner, then. I was thinking Pacey’s.”

I was a little surprised at his choice, but I didn’t let my expression reflect it. Pacey’s was a college bar and hot spot right off campus. It didn’t exactly scream romance, but I guess it was a safe bet for a first date. He knew his way around campus since he was a political science major.

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