Girls We Love by J. Minter

Author:J. Minter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
Published: 2006-03-03T16:00:00+00:00

when parental approval is the last thing a girl wants …

“Arno … Wildenburger?” Jack Reid said, chewing over the name as he sipped from his glass of white wine. He was sitting in the sunken living room of his Fifth Avenue apartment. He was waiting with his wife, Meredith, and daughter, Liesel, for dinner to be served. They were all drinking white wine.

“Yeah, Daddy, you know! Of the Wildenbuwgers,” Liesel said, gesticulating with her wineglass. “Yes, Daddy, those Wildenbuwgers.”

Her mother patted her helmet of whitish blond hair and smiled as best she could. Her face was looking pretty stretched out these days. “That’s wonderful, dear,” she said. “Perhaps we can have a triple date!”

“Yeah, a little soon for that, Mom,” Liesel said.

“Liesel, don’t be silly,” her father said, standing. His graying hair was slicked back and gray at the temples, and like all Reids, he was over six feet. He walked over to the platter of appetizers the maid had set up for them and artfully scraped some Morbier onto a cracker. “This is how the world works, my dear. This is how we do what we do.”

“I’m not even sure we’re dating yet!” Liesel said loudly, so that they would get her point.

“Oh, don’t be modest, my dear,” her mother said. She was wearing a white St. John knit suit with navy piping. “He’s a good little acquisition.”

“Mmmm… the Wildenburgers represent several newer artists we’ve been thinking about investing in,” her father continued.

“Yes, even Hermann says our collection is beginning to look too uptown,” said her mother, referring to their current art dealer. Hermann was seventy-six years old and always smelled like gin and toothpaste, even in the morning. “He allowed that we might want to consult some outside sources.”

“Oh, I agwee with Hermann,” Liesel said. “I’m sure DeeDee would, too.”

“There you go,” Liesel’s mother said. “You can see what a good thing this is for us, that you’re dating the Wildenburger boy.”

Before Liesel could be exposed to more of this icky conversation, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” she yelled, so that the maid wouldn’t even think about leaving the kitchen to let the guest in.

As she hurried to the foyer, she tried to banish the foreboding creepy feeling her parents were giving her by being so into her latest hookup. Because that was just gross.

“Awno!” she yelled, throwing the door open and pulling him to her by the shirt.

“Hey, Liesel,” he said gloomily. He was wearing a threadbare button-down shirt with faint wildflowers on it, rolled to the elbows, and dark stained jeans with flip-flops. He brushed some hair out of his eyes, exposing his gorgeously angular features, bent his head, and attached his face to hers. She dragged him into the hall closet and they kept making out. Her hands went all over him, his hands went all over her.

When he pulled away, Arno said, “I don’t know about this.”

“Oh, please,” Liesel laughed. She always laughed at things she didn’t understand, and right now, she definitely had no idea why Arno was acting so un-Arno-like.

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