Chapter 9 Nine
Antonia swallowed hard, before she tried to respond.
“We—” she began, then paused, glancing at Kennedy for support.
He lifted a brow slightly.
Go on.
“We met through work,” she said carefully. “I joined Walton & Co. not long ago.”
Priscillia’s lips curved. “Workplace romance, not like Kennedy at all,” she mused. “Risky. Scandalous, even.”
Kennedy’s jaw tightened. “It wasn’t like that.”
Antonia swallowed. “At first, I thought he was terrifying.”
Priscillia laughed—a soft, delighted sound. “Oh, everyone does.”
Even Kennedy couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from twitching.
“And then?” Priscillia pressed.
Antonia hesitated. The truth hovered dangerously close to her tongue.
“He… surprised me,” she said finally. “He’s not what people assume.”
Priscillia’s eyes softened. “No, he isn’t.”
Her gaze shifted to Kennedy then, filled with a tenderness that made Antonia’s chest ache.
“And how,” Priscillia continued slowly, “did you capture his heart?”
Antonia nearly choked.
Her fork paused halfway to her mouth.
Captured his heart?
She felt Kennedy’s stare on her, intense, warning.
Think. Pretend. Lie.
“I didn’t,” Antonia said softly.
Both Waltons stilled.
Not the answer they were expecting.
“I didn’t chase him,” she continued, surprising even herself. “I didn’t plan anything. I think… it just happened.”
Priscillia studied her for a long moment.
Then she smiled.
“That,” she said, lifting her glass, “is exactly how love should begin.”
Antonia forced a smile, her heart pounding painfully.
"I'm also sure, your cooking is another way you captured his heart," Priscillia smiled at her son, "he loves a good home cooked meal."
Kennedy smiled back at her, "You know me too well, Mother."
\---
After dinner, the atmosphere in the house shifted—subtle, but unmistakable.
Priscillia excused herself early, claiming jet lag, though the satisfied smile she sent Antonia’s way before disappearing down the hall suggested otherwise. The moment her bedroom door closed, the warmth that had filled the dining room drained away, leaving behind something taut and uncomfortable.
Kennedy didn’t speak as he grabbed his keys.
“I’ll drive you home,” he said curtly.
Antonia nodded, silently gathering her bag. The ring felt heavier on her finger now, no longer just a prop, but a reminder of how deeply she had already failed at pretending.
The car ride was quiet at first. The city lights blurred past the windows as Kennedy navigated the roads with precision, his jaw set, knuckles white around the steering wheel.
“You forgot the plan,” he said finally.
Antonia flinched.
“I didn’t forget,” she replied softly. “I just—”
“You cooked,” he cut in. “You smiled. You were respectful. You were… kind.”
She stared at her hands in her lap. “I'm sorry, but I told you I don't know how to be mean or disrespectful.”
“This was supposed to be simple,” he snapped. “Make her disapprove. Make her uncomfortable. Instead, she’s already picturing grandchildren.”
Antonia’s chest tightened. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“That’s the problem! If I didn't know better I would think you were trying to win my mother's heart,” Kennedy said, exhaling sharply. “But you don’t do things on purpose. You’re just… you. And now she likes you.”
Silence filled the car again, thicker this time.
“You need to fix this,” he continued, more controlled now. “She leaves in two days. If she gets any more attached, I won’t hear the end of it for years. The pressure to get married would get intense.”
Antonia nodded, though her throat burned. “I understand.”
He pulled up in front of her sister’s house and parked. The engine idled. "Is this where you live?"
Antonia nodded.
“Remember,” he added, his voice low, warning. “This isn’t real. Don’t ruin things for me.”
The words stung more than she expected.
“I won’t,” she said quietly.
She stepped out of the car, the night air cool against her skin. Kennedy waited until she reached the door before driving off, the sound of his car fading into the distance.
Antonia stood there for a moment, blinking back tears.
Get it together.
She unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The living room lights were still on.
Helen sat on the couch, arms crossed, concern etched across her face.
“Finally,” her sister said. “Do you know what time it is?”
Antonia forced a smile. “I lost track.”
Helen’s eyes narrowed. “You never lose track. Where were you?”
“Work,” Antonia lied quickly. Too quickly. She wasn't supposed to reveal this arrangement with her boss to anyone, even her sister. “We had… a late meeting.”
Helen rose slowly. “On a Saturday? In a dress like that?”
Antonia’s heart pounded. “I didn’t plan it. It just happened. I was at Sarah's place when we got called for the meeting.”
Helen studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “You look sad.”
“I’m tired,” Antonia said, slipping off her shoes. “It was a long day.”
Helen didn’t push further, but her gaze lingered. “You don’t have to hide things from me, you know.”
Antonia nodded, guilt curling in her stomach.
“I know.” She answered, subtly removing the ring from her finger and putting it in her bag.
"Would you like something to eat before going to bed?"
"Don't worry." Antonia replied as she headed towards her room, "I guess your husband and kids are asleep."
"Ernest travelled not long after you left this morning." her sister replied, and Antonia stopped in her steps.
"Again, didn't he just return from a trip a few days ago?"
"That's the same thing I said and it turned into an argument," Helen said, with a low voice.
Antonia could see the sadness in her eyes. Her sister's marriage had been rocky lately, and she wished she could help but she had no experience in that department.
"It's alright, Helen," she finally said, "Let's go to bed."
Alone in her room, Antonia finally let out the breath she’d been holding all night.
This arrangement with her boss was getting dangerous.
And no matter how much Kennedy warned her, she already knew the truth—she couldn't make herself dislikeable.
But on the bright side, the weekend was almost over, and soon she would have her life back.