Blues

37. Blackened Blue Eyes

 "And we all need a shoulder to cry on..

 Once in a while."

Blackened blue eyes by The Charlatans. 

"Candice, meet Carl Evans, my father." Dylan smiles tightly, beckoning to the middle-aged man, who's dressed in a sleek, deluxe tuxedo. "Dad, this is my girlfriend Candice."

I can feel myself tensing up upon the word 'girlfriend', and the way Dylan's hand tightens on my hip, gives me the impression that he can feel my strain.

I extend my hand to the man, and he takes it, gently shaking it while he cannily examines me with his sparkly, hazel eyes. "Nice to meet you." I smile nervously, suddenly feeling dithery.

The man nods, a frown marring the place between his eyebrows as he looks at me. "Likewise." He drawls, before he casts his attention on Dylan. "Aren't you going to introduce Jennifer?"

My eyes move to the blonde woman standing next to Dylan's father. She looks like an adolescent who's aspiring to look older, but in defiance of that fact, she still looks so young to me, maybe a few years older than me. She looks voguish in the latte, sequin minidress she's wearing, the tight material hugging her figure like second skin. When I perceive her mien again, I can see that she's flushed with embarrassment.

Dylan chuckles. "Well, you just did. No need for me to do so."

"Dylan!" The man scolds, his eyes bristling, before he senses me watching him, his gaze fluttering to me, then back to his son. "We'll talk later." With that, he veers, leading the young woman–Jennifer– away with him.

"What was that about?" I ask, staring at Dylan, whose uncharitable gaze is oriented onto his father and his date.

He sighs. "Daddy issues–we all have them."

"I don't." I contend, not missing a beat.

His face whips to face mine, his eyes softening forthwith. He opens his mouth to say something, maybe to sympathize, but I cut him off. "That woman looks much younger than your father. Is he like-" I lower my voice. "-cheating on your mother?"

I expect him to reproach me for my incult nosiness, but he surprises me when he throws his head back, laughing. "No, Candice." He shakes his head, his chest still convulsing with laughter, before he suddenly stops, his expression turning earnest. "My mother is no longer around."

My mouth drops open. "Uh- I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to-"

He laughs again, shaking his head. "Relax! She's not dead." He simply rectifies, before he looks away. "Can't say she's alive either."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

But he never gets to answer, before Logan horns in, looking steamed up, his hand clenched so hard around his champagne glass. He fixes his gaze on Dylan. "What the fuck is that slut doing here?" He accosts.

Whom is he talking about?

Dylan huffs, his hand abandoning my body altogether. "Ask her."

Logan's lips become a straight line. "Don't fuck with me, Evans. Why didn't anyone tell me that she's invited?"

"Because she wasn't?" Dylan shrugs. "She's only my father's date."

"What?" I break in. "Are you talking about Jennifer?"

Logan's attention moves to me, before he hums thoughtfully. "Oh, that name! It's been a while since I've called her anything but slut." He lets out a humorless laugh. "Precisely, ever since she slept with him." He motions to Dylan with his head, his face red-hot.