Winterstruck: an urban fantasy supernatural crime thriller by Sara C. Walker

Author:Sara C. Walker [Walker, Sara C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-05T22:00:00+00:00

We left behind the warm, comfortable condo to venture out in the freezing cold. It was more Luke's condo than mine; he’d bought it with his trust fund when he turned eighteen. From his father's rival developer. Years before I'd met him. Yet, for some reason his parents blamed me for Luke's "rebellious" streak.

Did I mention I wasn't looking forward to this dinner? I'd far rather comb the frozen streets for Flint and Hammond than dine with Luke's parents.

Luke had about as much use for his parents as I did, but where I would rather never see them again, as I did with my own mother, he preferred to "take the high road" and not only see them and have dinner with them several times year, but also pretend like there was nothing wrong. Nothing at all. Maybe I was being petty. Maybe it was easier for him because he was a doctor and his parents respected that. Maybe his sense of family was much stronger than mine. It was hard to say—I'd never known my biological parents. Maybe if I'd been raised by people with whom I shared a blood bond, I would feel differently.

The taxi let us out in front of the fancy-pants restaurant, Terrace Rouge. We hadn't even gone inside yet and I already had a headache. This was the kind of place where they parcelled out your meal in tiny pieces arranged with fancy decoration and brought palate cleansers between courses.

I sighed, looking up at the three-story restaurant. All I wanted in the world was my soft, warm bed, and instead I had to look forward to three hours of playing future Mrs. Dr. Lucas Thomas, the insurance agent who stole away his parents' only son and heir to the family business that he wanted no part of. Oh, joy.

"I don't relish it either. But I promise I'll make it up to you," he murmured against my ear in the way that made me go weak in the knees.

"You'd better," I answered. "And there'd better be wine with this dinner." We went inside.

He laughed. "Knowing my parents, it'll be champagne. The good stuff."

"Perhaps your folks aren't so bad after all," I said wryly.

The restaurant boasted "hearthside dining" on a sign out front, and sure enough, there was a huge, three-story, fieldstone fireplace in the centre of the dining room. On the main floor, it was surrounded by tables for two. Indoor balcony dining wrapped around the two upper levels. Hearthside dining certainly was no exaggeration.

The host led us to the first balcony level. As we took our seats, the delightful Mr. and Mrs. Thomas quickly delivered their congratulations, and then started with the questions: would I be quitting my job soon, when could they expect grandchildren? They both made no effort to hide their belief that a wife's place was in the home.

I smiled as pleasantly as possible and downed an entire glass of champagne. It was going to be a long night.

Luke was right. It was good stuff.

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