353 Christmas 3

The villa was not as massive as the ones Andersons have, but it was on a large piece of land and the décor was luxurious.

Other than strained chat about the weather and work, and a few of their distant relatives, nothing exciting happened, and Brianna was happy that she had a drink to keep herself busy.

Ten minutes later, Brianna was wilting from boredom while being under pressure to maintain her ladylike façade and she chanted internally that this is only dinner and she can go through it. In her life, she had many uncomfortable functions that she needed to push through. This is not much. But the last few years she lived freely, away from these social shackles, and maintaining a smile was more difficult than she remembers it. The only good thing was that they were not involving her in the conversation.

Back to the present…

The dining table was full of mouthwatering varieties, but the dry atmosphere dampened the pleasure of enjoying the scrumptious meal.

Brianna concluded that the Reynolds family has a good cook.

In a way, it reminded her why she left San Francisco and decided to live a modest (and wild) life with Mia in New York. What is the point of all the riches and comfort if people are behaving like they have a stick up their ass?

Since Brianna returned to San Francisco, six months ago, she noticed that her father is not so strict, but she knows how that is only because she refused to move into their family home. Also, her life would be devoid of color if Quentin is not there. She must admit that other than spicing up her personal and sexual life, Quentin helped her at work as well. The deal he brought to the Harper Industries started an avalanche of stellar performances and her father is full of praises. Quentin is amazing like that.

"So… what do you do Brianna?"

Christina's question broke the silence.

Brianna was almost startled. They are here for more than half an hour, and this is the first time Quentin's mother addressed her.

"I work at a bank.", Brianna decided to keep it simple.

"At a bank?", Christina continued probing. "You meet customers and open accounts for them?"

"Yes. My clients are mostly companies."

Christina's expression was unreadable as she continued asking: "Is that how you met?"

This question was directed at Quentin.

"We met before I moved some of our transactions to be handled by Brianna."

Timothy paused and looked at Brianna. "You work for Harper Investments?"

"Yes."

Brianna was not sure what this meant, but a second later, she decided not to think about it. It does not matter. She needs to keep her smile on, finish the food, and go back home.

Brianna finished her meal, and so did Quentin, but Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds ate at a snail pace and Brianna needed a break. She excused herself and went to the restroom.

She took longer than needed.

'They will think I'm taking a dump, and that's fine…', Brianna thought while staring blankly at the mirror in front of her. Everything in the bathroom was luxurious, even the ornate etchings that followed the edge of the mirror. She wondered if she and Quentin can leave as soon as everyone is done with food, or if they will need to stay longer.

After an unknown measure of time, Brianna estimated that it's time for her to return before someone comes to check if she drowned in the toilet.

She walked down the hallway, toward the dining room and heard voices. 'Well, it seems that things are quite lively without me around…'

Brianna didn't want to overhear, but the voices were getting louder with every step she took and she paused to listen.

It was Quentin's mother talking…

"We let you have your way with all those models so that you can get it out of your system before marriage, but we expected something more of the girl you actually brought home."

"More? Like what?", Quentin asked.

"As her future mother-in-law, I deserve respect. She needs to make me like her, and not ignore me."

"Dad? Do you feel the same?"

"Son… I expected that you will find someone of your status and not a girl who works in a bank."

"I see… so in order to please you, my girlfriend needs to act like we are married and to suck up to my mother, while managing a publishing company in order to match my status? Do you have requirements on her assets as well?"

"That is not what I said.", Mr. Reynolds said.

"And what did you say?", Quentin exhaled so loudly, that Brianna heard it in the hallway. "As soon as Bri is back, we are heading home."

"Home?", Mrs. Reynolds asked, her tone of voice conveyed disapproval. "You are living together?"

"Yes, we do."

"She is with you for the money!", Mr. Reynold's loud voice showed how angry he is. "If you marry her, you will regret it for the rest of your life!"

"Neither of you knows anything about Bri, and you don't give a damn to get to know her. After all those talks about marriage and settling down, it makes me wonder if those talks were fake or… if you have someone on your mind that you think I should marry."

"Vanessa is a good…"

"What?", Quentin interrupted his mom. "You can't be serious."

"What is wrong with Vanessa?", Mr. Reynolds asked. "She is a good girl, with a crush on you for years. Her family…"

"No, no… When I questioned if you are joking, it was not about if Vanessa is a good girl, but about you matchmaking me. And how do you know if she has a crush on me? Don't tell me that you spoke with her…"

"Her parents will support the union. They have a talent agency and we already have numerous contracts together. Joining two companies would be a great move.", Mrs. Reynolds said.

"So, this is about the company?"

Mr. Reynolds didn't deny it and he had to repeat: "Vanessa is a good girl, eager to please you and us. Don't tell us that you don't see this as a lucrative deal. Everyone benefits."

"Everyone… benefits…", Quentin repeated in slow motion. "You have two choices. If by end of this week, Brianna does not receive a sincere apology for mistreatment you gave her, on Monday morning, you will see a resignation on my desk."

"What is the second choice?", Mrs. Reynolds asked reluctantly.

"You apologize and I will consider if I still want to work at Reynolds Publishing. Officially I am just an agent, but the three of us know that I am driving the company and that the two of you are there only for show. I look forward to seeing how long it will take for the company to go back to the gutter where I found it when I took over."

"There are thousands of employees. You can't do this!", Mr. Reynolds shouted.

"They are your employees. I am just an agent. Remember? Oh, and as a bonus, regardless of which path you take, you can keep Vanessa since she is eager to please you. I have no interest in her."

By the time Brianna heard steps, it was too late for her to hide.

Quentin's expression told her how sorry he is.

Before he could say anything, Brianna closed the distance between them and hugged him. She was overwhelmed by the emotions that gushed from her. No one ever fought for her like that. She knows that Quentin loves her, but if she didn't hear it with her own ears, she would not believe that this happened. 

"Let's go home…", Brianna half-whispered.

They didn't talk in the car.

During the drive they held hands, each lost in their own thoughts.

When they reached the apartment, Brianna spoke. "Is this your place, or should I move out so that your parents don't give me trouble?"

Quentin realized that if Brianna heard him telling his parents that they are living together, she heard about Vanessa and everything else that came after that.

He hugged her. "This place is mine. And so is my car. And so are you. My parents have their lives and I have mine. Being at odds with them, only means that we don't see them for holidays. Your father will be happy to hear that we have more time for him."

"I don't want you to quit your job because of me."

"Don't feel bad. I am doing this for myself, not you."

"What will you do?"

"In the worst case, I can start anew. When I get a chance, I will talk with Max. His business sense is unbelievable. Max gave me tips when I resurrected Reynolds Publishing and he is still my business advisor. But no matter what, I want you to know that whoever thinks that can control me and keep me away from you will find out that I am not a puppet."

"They think that I am a clerk at the bank.", Brianna reminded him.

"Let them think that for some time. I am curious how deep they can burry themselves and I want to record them when they find out the truth." Quentin walked to the kitchen and returned with a perfectly chilled wine bottle and two glasses. "How about we have our own Christmas party?"

Brianna smiled and hummed in approval. 

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