Con Artist Legacy

Chapter Sixteen: The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Engrossed in my thoughts, I almost missed the strange vehicle in our driveway. Almost. Warning bells sounded in my brain, the Reynaldi women were not known to be very hospitable. 

I expected to see the sheriff or some other insidious person waiting for me when I walked through the door, but the foyer was empty. I could hear chatter coming from the dining area, and the smell of Italian cooking made my stomach rumble.

Hunger overrode my better judgment, and I headed towards the food. As I walked into the dining room, everyone turned around for a split second before quickly returning to their conversations.

“Oh you’re back,” Teresa said.

“Yeah and I’ve some good news—”

“We know about Culler,” she interrupted me.

“Of course you do…”

I’d always known Nate had a big mouth, but I assumed he’d let me be the one to tell my family the big news (another tally on the ‘bad’ column for him…we were going to need to chat soon).

Despite my soured plans, nothing else seemed out of place and I felt most of the tension leave my body.

Choosing to ignore my aunt’s remarks (and lack of appreciation), I settled into my usual seat across from my mother. I was determined to have a peaceful night and in the spirit of celebrating, I decided to strike up a conversation with her.

But before I could even say anything, she moved two seats over, refusing to look my way at all. I didn’t remember doing anything to her, but I wasn’t alarmed. I figured she’d get over it soon enough (since it happened so often).

“How was your little vacation?” Russell asked.

“It wasn’t a vacation, it was a mission.”

“Ahh okay, how was your little mission?”  

“Good…it was good,” I said through gritted teeth, reminding myself that I needed a quiet night. I deserved it after all the work I’d done.

“So why is there a strange car parked in front?” I asked, directing my concern towards Teresa. Next to me, Elena’s eyes widened, and I felt her well manicured hands poke my thigh repeatedly.

“What?” I asked Elena, trying to swat her hands away.

“We have a guest for dinner,” Teresa answered.

“Who?” I asked.

Elena frantically glanced towards the kitchen, while simultaneously gesturing something with her hands underneath the table.

“Girl I don’t understand your sign language, but I’m sure the food is almost ready,” I said.

“But-”

“Shh Elena.” I slapped her hands away, giving her one of my infamous ‘looks’. She pouted, but I ignored her anyway, knowing she wouldn’t be offended (not for long anyway).

“Who?” I asked my aunt again.

The door leading to the kitchen swung open, and Sophie danced into the room, humming ‘here comes the bride’ under her breath. Behind her, carrying the main dish was Matthews.

“Have you met Eric? He helped the police clear my good name,” Teresa said, introducing us.

“No he didn’t, Nate and I did-”

“Now Olivia, there’s no need to be such a bad sport,” Russell said.

“But, he did nothing.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Eric said with a wink. “Remember what happened at the bar?”

“You met in a bar? Well that makes a lot sense,” my mother chimed in.

“I’m sure you worked really hard to help me…at that bar…during your mission,” Teresa said.

“What? No…everyone just needs to stop making things up now.” The table quieted down, but it seemed like no one really believed me. At least I figured out why my mother was so mad at me, she thought I had brought the boy home with me.  

“Well, Ollie was a big help,” Eric said, placing the casserole in the center of the table. He moved towards the far end to sit (away from me).

“Oh don’t sit so far away,” Teresa said, pointing to the seat next to her. It was the one of the ‘heads’ of the long table, and where my grandfather usually sat.

“He can’t sit there,” I said, but no one heard me.

“Isn’t he cute,” Sophie asked, nudging me as she walked around serving the first dish…a huge smile on her face.

Matthews sat his faded jeans into my grandfather’s chair, and I felt my body shake in anger. His clear blue eyes looked at me inquisitively, sensing that something was wrong. But he didn’t budge, and instead turned his charm onto my strict, uptight aunt, who was apparently enamored with the man.  

Placing my hands on the edge of the table, I focused on controlling my breathing. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry, or smash everything in the room.

Somehow I calmly stood up and simply walked out. I could hear my name being called by different people, but I refused to look back.

Matthews had just declared war.