His Shortcake

Chapter 7

Dustyn Franco

I had anticipated a quiet dinner with Dad, a chance to discuss Mom's recent erratic behavior and finalize details for the upcoming charity event. As I approached the private section of the restaurant, my footsteps slowed almost imperceptibly. The sight that greeted me was unexpected—Dad seated at a table not reserved for us, but with the Ramirez family in full attendance. Mara, visibly tense with her shoulders squared, caught my eye first.

Dad, impeccably dressed as always in his coat and tie, noticed my arrival and offered a rueful smile, acknowledging the awkwardness of the situation.

"Mr. Ramirez," I greeted formally, extending my hand to him.

Jack Ramirez chuckled warmly, shaking my hand firmly before patting me on the shoulder. "My boy! How many times have I told you not to call me that? Makes me sound ancient."

"Well, you are old, Dad," Alec interjected with his trademark sarcasm, rising to greet me with a handshake.

Jack shot his son a mock glare. "I think I prefer Dustyn as my son now. Rodrigo, would you mind adopting Alec instead?"

Dad chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. "I'm rather fond of my own son, Jack."

Jack sighed dramatically, as if genuinely considering the swap. "Take a seat, Dustyn."

And so, I took the only available chair, which happened to be next to Mara. I couldn't help but notice how her shoulders seemed to tense even further upon my arrival. Her surprise was palpable, and despite her best efforts to conceal it, I detected a hint of something else—perhaps even a flicker of something positive, buried beneath the tension.

"Shortcake," I murmured softly, a greeting laced with both familiarity and a touch of fondness, fully expecting her usual blunt refusal to acknowledge me. I glanced over at Alec, who met my gaze with a slow shake of his head.

Mara's demeanor was as cold and resistant as the night she had discovered the truth.

"Dad," Alec's voice rose, a warning clear in his tone as he addressed Jack. The tension at the table escalated palpably, the air thick with unspoken objections and buried emotions.

Mara's hand stiffened momentarily under mine, fingers still curled into fists on her lap. I could feel the anger radiating from her, a storm brewing beneath the surface as she processed the bombshell dropped by her father. Jack's obliviousness to her turmoil was almost infuriating, his mind already racing ahead to plans for an engagement party.

"Next week might be a bit rushed," Alec interjected cautiously, his eyes flickering between Mara and their father. It was clear he was trying to gauge Jack's reaction while also attempting to soften the blow for Mara.

Jack's response was immediate, firm, and dismissive of Alec's concern. "If Mara has to do it, she better do it now. It's inevitable."

The authority in Jack's voice brooked no argument, his words cutting through the air with finality. I tightened my grip on Mara's hand, silently offering support amidst the turmoil. Her fingers twitched slightly in response, a tiny gesture that spoke volumes about the conflicting emotions raging within her.

"Dad," Alec's voice rang out again, firmer this time, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone. He was pushing back against his father's ironclad expectations, advocating for Mara's feelings despite the familial pressure bearing down on them.

Across the table, Amelia remained unusually quiet, her gaze flitting nervously between Jack and Mara. It was as if she understood the gravity of the situation, caught between loyalty to her husband and empathy for Mara's obvious distress.