Belle French was on track for a pretty good Sunday. For one thing, she'd had plans to go to brunch with her roommate Neal and his dad. For another, she woke up in a pretty nice hotel room and not their shared apartment in Brooklyn. This place had super fluffy pillows, lots of windows, and absolutely no Neal Cassidy to have overheard the sex she'd had with a strange older man the night before. He liked to tease her about her daddy issues, but if either of them had those it was, quite frankly, him. She just liked a man who knew what he was doing in bed, and this one definitely had. Suffice to say, she was in a particularly good mood.
Mr. Good Mood himself was already awake and watching her sleep, though he pretended to look away as soon as he realized she'd caught him looking.
"Good morning," she said, stretching out languidly. "Did you sleep well?"
"I did," he replied, draping his arm over her torso and pulling her close. "Did you?"
"Inasmuch as you could say I slept, anyway."
He chuckled and snaked his hand between her legs to tease her. It felt so good, and she just wanted to let him keep her here all day, but she was already running late.
"I can't," she moaned. "I really, really want to. But I have to go get ready for brunch."
"Can't you cancel?" he asked. "Or postpone it. Call it lunch. Nobody gets lunch anymore, you'll be setting a trend."
She giggled and squirmed away, sitting up and drawing a groan of protest from him.
"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I promised my roommate."
He sat up behind her and brushed her hair to the side so he could trail kisses up and down her neck. It felt so damn good she couldn't help but to tilt her head to the side and let him have his way.
"Five more minutes," he practically purred into her hair. "I promise I'll make it worth your while."
"Make it fifteen," she said, letting him pull her back down into his bed. She'd have to do her makeup in the cab, but god he was worth it. Anyway, Neal's dad wasn't in town to see her, and what did she care if some uptight New England business man was impressed?
"You're late!" Neal yelled from his room as soon as she walked through the door. "Where the hell have you been?"
"I missed my train," she fibbed. She'd missed it because her fifteen minute quicky had turned into half an hour of oral sex before he even got back on top of her. Suffice to say, she was feeling pretty good in spite of her tardiness.
"You missed your train at ten last night?" he said teasingly, coming to his bedroom door so she could see he was already almost dressed. "Oh, and you got a hickey from the late train!"
She slapped her hand over her neck where Mr. Good Mood had been sucking on it earlier. Crap.
"Go get ready," Neal continued, chuckling smugly now that he'd caught her. "And wear a scarf or something. My dad is kind of old fashioned."
Great, just what she needed. She wouldn't do this for just anyone, but he was telling his dad he wanted to change his major to photography and that it was going to push his graduation back another two years. Not that Belle cared that it was going to take him eight years to finish at this point. But the elder Mr. Cassidy paid over half their rent, and there was no way the two of them could afford the two bedroom in Brooklyn without him. If Neal needed backup, she really needed to be there. Still, that didn't mean she had to be happy about giving up her Sunday morning sex for brunch, but at least they were going to a pretty nice place and she wasn't paying. She'd get over it.
She showered in record time and pinned her hair up into a loose bun to disguise that she hadn't had time to wash it, and then threw on a simple pink sundress. She managed to dig out a yellow floral silk scarf her grandma had given her for Christmas a few years back before Neal was dragging her out the door to hail a cab. She could do her makeup and deal with the scarf in the taxi, and if they were lucky then miraculously they'd only be a few minutes late.
"So you gonna tell me about last night?" Neal asked. "I mean, you must have had a pretty good time."
"There's not much to tell," she said as she did her mascara. "I met a guy at a bar and went back to his place."
"Does this mystery guy have a name?"
"Joshua," she replied. "But I've been calling him Mr. Good Mood."
"Yeah? His good mood or yours?"
"Both," she said with a wink. "See, he had these really long fingers, and…"
"Okay, okay, okay," Neal interrupted. "That's enough. My dad's name is Joshua and now I just have that mental image in my head and it's not okay."
"Hey, you asked."
"Sure, hold that against me," he replied. "So are you gonna see Mr. Good Mood again?"
"No, I think he was just a one time thing."
"Too bad," Neal said with a shrug. "Seems like you liked him."
She had, but she was too busy to deal with a guy right now. She was in her last year of grad school and unlike Neal she didn't have a rich dad to send her money for rent and food. Seeing a man more than once was a luxury she couldn't really fit into her schedule and besides, he'd only been in town for a few days. No amount of enjoying him could fix that, even if she'd had the time. It was best to get out early, and that's exactly what she'd done.
They rode the rest of the way in silence and Neal paid the cabbie once they'd pulled up outside the restaurant. It was a really nice place, and Belle was suddenly thankful that the hickey had forced the scarf on her. Without the accessory, she was bordering on underdressed which just made her more self-conscious about the haphazard way she'd tied it.
Neal gave their names to the maitre d' who led then led them further into the restaurant. She was busy fiddling with her scarf trying to make sure it looked like more than a hickey cover while they walked, which just drew Neal's attention to her.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I'm making my scarf look like that woman we saw at the entrance's."
"It looks fine," he whispered. "Just leave it."
"But I'm almost done!"
"Leave it!" he hissed.
She was so focused on him and her neck she didn't realize the maitre d' had stopped until Neal threw his arm out to keep her from bumping into him.
"Hey dad!" Neal said. "It's so nice to see you."
His dad was talking as Belle finished her scarf, but she couldn't quite place it until she looked up to be introduced and saw him. It was Mr. Good Mood.
He didn't seem to recognize her right away, but she saw him do a double-take as soon as he did. His jaw dropped with the same surprise she felt, and she realized with a growing sense of horror that it wasn't just a dream or a really weird hallucination. She had actually fucked her best friend's dad, and now they were all going to have brunch.
Joshua Gold was completely immobile. That was Lacey standing next to his son. The same Lacey he'd last seen leaving his hotel room a few hours previously. The Lacey whose vulva he'd had his mouth on first thing that morning. What was she doing here? She'd said she was going to brunch with friends. It took him an uncomfortably long time to realize that Neal was her friend. Oh sweet Jesus. Neal was talking and Joshua was having a real hard time keeping up because there was no way he was going to like anything his son could be saying.
"Dad, this is my roommate, Belle French," Neal said, gesturing to the pretty girl who was watching him with wide, horrified eyes. "Belle, this is my dad, Joshua Gold."
He somehow managed to shake her hand, though Neal had to hold her chair out for her. Joshua was just impressed he'd managed to get himself seated.
"So Neal," Lacey or Belle or whatever her name was said over her menu. "Why don't you and your dad have the same last name?"
It wasn't the most tactful question he'd ever heard, but he was having a hard time not staring at her openly.
"Cassidy is my mom's name," Neal said slowly. "They hyphenated. You knew that. Neal Cassidy-Gold."
She whimpered a little bit and buried her face back in the menu. At least that had solved the mystery of why she hadn't recognized his name, although that didn't really make him feel a lot better about the situation. The waitress came by quickly and he wasn't at all surprised when Belle ordered a mimosa – boy did drinking seem like a good idea. He got a Bloody Mary, because he was fairly certain a straight vodka would get him some raised eyebrows.
Somehow, they managed to make some small talk, though probably because Neal was willing to carry most of the conversation all by himself. Belle was fiddling with her phone in her lap, and not long after Neal's phone rang and he glanced down.
"Oh, I have to take this," he said. "Sorry. It's...school. Excuse me."
Neal made a quick exit and Joshua turned towards Belle immediately.
"You said your name was Lacey," he whispered.
"My middle name is Larissa," she replied quickly. "Forgive me for not wanting to tell a strange man my real name!"
"And what are you doing going back to hotel rooms with strange men?"
"Oh my God," she replied. "You're not my dad and I am an adult. I do not have to explain myself to you. What are you doing bringing strange women back to your hotel? I could have robbed and murdered you!"
"Okay, this is not a productive area of discussion," he said, before a horrible thought occurred to him. "You've never slept with Neal, have you?"
"Don't be gross," she said, making a face. "I live with him, you think I'd sleep with him, too?"
"Well excuse me for asking, all things considered!"
"You're not going to tell him, are you?"
"Of course not," he said. "Why on Earth would I do that?"
He couldn't even imagine Neal's reaction to hearing about that. His relationship with his son was already tumultuous. There was no way he needed to know about any of this happening. Ever. Maybe on Joshua's death bed, but not a moment sooner.
"Sorry about that," Neal said as he returned to the table. "I hope you two had a good talk."
Belle nodded stiffly and took a large gulp of her mimosa. Neal looked at her for a second before turning to face Joshua, who at this point really just wanted to wake up and find out this was all a horrible dream but seeing as he wasn't doing any math problems in his underwear yet that was probably too much to hope for.
"It was fine," Joshua said at last. "We were just getting to know each other."
"Yes," Belle said. "We got to know each other."
"That's great," Neal said. "So, Dad, how have you been?"
"Fine," Joshua forced out. "I've been keeping busy."
Belle inhaled some of her mimosa and started coughing uncontrollably into her napkin.
"You okay?" Neal asked and she nodded and covered her face while she finished up her coughing fit. "Okay," Neal continued. "Anyway, Dad, so you know how you've been pushing me to figure out what I can do with my major?"
"You mean how I asked you what you were going to do with a major in Ancient Chinese Philosophy?"
"Well, I think I figured it out."
"Oh good. What is the job market for ancient Chinese philosophers like?"
Joshua had no idea where his son was going with this, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. This was the third time they'd had this conversation, and every time it ended with Neal deciding on a more obscure major for himself. Before this, it had been Russian history and Roman literature. Joshua hadn't even been aware you could major in any of those things anymore, and yet he'd paid for six years of them so far and it was looking good for another two of something equally ridiculous. Maybe this time would be art history with a focus on modern Appalachian folk art.
"So I was thinking of changing my major to photography," Neal said. In a way, this was actually an improvement. It wasn't Photography of the Ancient World or anything equally ridiculous, but still.
"Neal…" he said, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling while he tried to gather his thoughts. "You're too smart to keep doing this."
"It's not a big deal," Neal said quickly. "There's actually a job market for photographers, and I know some people who can get me an in with some other work and I can freelance…"
"How long?" Joshua interrupted.
"What?"
"How much longer are you going to be in school?"
"It'll only be another two years."
"Good lord, Neal. That's eight years. Assuming this one sticks, and there's no guarantee of that."
"Lots of people go to school for eight years, Dad."
"They're called doctors."
"Belle's in her sixth year."
Joshua looked over at Belle who was holding her glass directly in front of her face.
"I'm not Belle's father," he said at last. "And I'm not paying Belle's tuition."
"I'm getting my master's degree," she muttered weakly.
"And she's getting her master's degree!" Joshua said. "I'm not paying for you to get another major. Can't you just finish one of the others you've started?"
"You're the one who didn't like any of those!" Neal said. "This one has real prospects and it'll let me express myself."
"Can we just have brunch?" Joshua said. "I do not want to go through all this at the restaurant."
"Fine," Neal snipped. "But I'm not going to let this go!"
"Perfect," Joshua replied. "I cannot wait to discuss this later."
The waitress finally arrived with their food and they ate in an awkward silence. So far this trip was going just about as badly as it possibly could.