The Playboy's Princess (14 page)

“So, Doc, you never drink?”

Peter coughed and shifted in his seat. “I’m not going to lie to you, Drew. On occasion I have a drink, but I don’t get drunk on a regular basis.”

“But did you, when you were younger?” Drew pushed.

Again the doctor looked at Aaron, who shrugged his shoulders.

“I indulged as a young person, yes, but not over a long period of time.”

Drew nodded his head, trying to keep a straight face.

“And, Dad,” he said, turning to Aaron, “I know you drink.”

Laura grabbed her husband’s hand and held it tightly.

“This isn’t about me, Drew. I don’t have a problem.”

“And neither do I,” Drew said triumphantly.

Caroline started crying again, turning her tissue into a soggy, shredded mess.

Aaron stood up, dropped his wife’s hand, and pointed down at his son.

“Now, listen here, boy. We’re here because we love you and we want your life to be a long and healthy one. This isn’t us ganging up on you, and it’s not a tit-for-tat about who drinks the most. Do you know that your mother lays awake at night waiting for you to come home, with her phone clutched in her hand in case the police call?”

Drew’s heart dropped into his stomach. Aaron’s face had gone as red as a ripe apple, and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths before sitting down.

“Mom, I’m sorry that you worry. I really am. But I’m smart when I go out. I don’t drive drunk, and I’m always with friends.”

“Friends who are just as drunk as you. Great lot of help they’ll be in an emergency,” Aaron muttered.

“I’m just having fun!” Drew yelled, making his mother and Caroline jump. “I won’t party forever. Just let me have my fun while I can. Please. You’ve got me doing charity work, and I haven’t missed a single session. I’m even doing extra work with one of the kids because he shows promise. Can you really think I’m wasting my life when I’m jumping through your hoops anyway?”

Aaron cracked his knuckles, a sign Drew knew meant he was thinking of a response and stalling for time.

“Your mother and I are very proud of the determination with which you’ve taken on your charity work. You’ve impressed me. But one day you’ll be living on your own, and to be honest, we’re not convinced you can look after yourself. The last thing we want for you is to be drunk all day and night and waste your life in a never-ending hangover.”

“And that would be a short life,” Peter chimed in. “If you were drinking every day, you’d cut years, maybe decades, off your life.”

“I get it, okay? You don’t all need to keep up the same story. You think I drink too much. I don’t agree. That’s the end of it.” Drew stood up and went to walk to the garage. He wanted to head into Hollywood and meet up with some friends.

“You’re drunk right now,” Peter said, sniffing the air as he walked past. “I can smell liquor on you.”

“I’m not drunk!”

“Have you been drinking?” Aaron demanded.

“I had a few shots to get my night started. I’m nowhere near drunk.” Drew shrugged, showing it wasn’t a big deal.

“I didn’t see you at the bar, which means you have a bottle stashed in your room,” his father said.

“Hiding is one of the symptoms of addiction,” Peter said.

Drew’d had just about enough of this conversation. He lunged for Peter, planning on giving the guy a black eye to go with his smug expression.

“Andrew!” his mother gasped as Aaron leapt up and grabbed Drew around the chest, holding him back.

“Caroline, search Drew’s room. I want any alcohol you find removed right now,” Aaron said, struggling to hold onto his son.

“Stay out of my room!” Drew yelled.

Caroline gave a whimper but ran from the room, her footsteps loud as she went up the stairs.

“What are you going to do, lock me up?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Aaron seethed between gritted teeth, still holding his son.

“Aaron, maybe we should take a step back. This isn’t what we planned,” Laura said, standing up. Her eyes were wide, and her hands were shaking.

The worry on his mother’s face made Drew stop struggling, but when he saw the fear in her eyes, he sighed in defeat.

“Fine, I’ll stay home tonight. It’s not a big deal. I can go a night without drinking.”

Aaron slowly released his grasp but stayed close to Drew in case he tried to make a run for it.

Laura turned to Peter and walked him out, thanking him for his assistance and promising to invite him for dinner on a more pleasant night.

Drew sat down with a huff, his father moving with him like a shadow. Caroline appeared after about fifteen minutes with three bottles in her arms, including the vodka from under his bed. Drew swore under his breath. He’d hoped she wouldn’t find that one.

“Pour it down the sink,” Aaron said.

Drew looked up, realizing that his father was speaking to him. “All right.”

He followed the older man into the kitchen and twisted the top off the vodka bottle, tipping it into the sink and watching the liquid swirl down the drain. He tried to convince himself it was just water, but the smell made his stomach churn and his mouth water.

“All of them,” Aaron said when Drew hesitated at the final bottle.

Laura carried several more bottles in from the dining room, placing them on the counter next to him.

“You’re getting rid of your entire bar stock?” Drew asked.

“Unlike some people, I don’t need alcohol in my home. If I want a drink, I can have just one. But we don’t want to have anything to make this harder for you. It all goes.”

“Even this one?” Drew held up a dusty bottle of red wine. He knew it cost a fortune and was a gift from one of Aaron’s director friends.

Aaron hesitated but then squared his shoulders. “Yes. It
all
goes.”

Drew watched the alcohol disappear down the drain. It was such a waste. When every last drop was gone and Caroline started putting all the bottles into a plastic bag for the garbage, Drew turned to his parents.

“Can I go upstairs now?”

He felt like a stupid child. He hadn’t asked his parents’ permission for anything in years, least of all to go to his room.

“Be honest with me, Drew. Is there any more that Caroline didn’t find?”

“No, Dad. She got it all.”

Aaron looked at his wife, and she gave a small nod.

“All right. You’re not to leave this house tonight, do you understand?”

“Yes.” Drew hung his head, feeling scolded, and shuffled out of the room. He grumbled to himself all the way up the stairs and threw himself down onto his bed. He’d told the truth; Caroline had found his entire stash. He was in for a long night with no entertainment.

A soft knock made him sit up.

“What?” he asked.

“Are you hungry, dear?”

“Not really. Thanks anyway, Mom.”

“Come downstairs if you change your mind. Caroline has ordered Indian food for us.”

“Okay.”

Drew loved Indian food, but there was no way he could go down and eat with his parents. Not tonight. He’d sneak down after they went to bed and help himself to any leftovers.

Drew hadn’t been kidding about it being a long night. He did game plans for his coaching for the next two weeks, played wastebasket basketball for over an hour, had another shower, and played all his lives on Candy Crush—twice. When he heard his parents finally go to bed, he sighed in relief and opened his bedroom door. Or he
tried
to open the door. It was locked from the outside.

Drew punched the door and swore under his breath.

He wasn’t going to sneak out to drink. He just wanted to get something to eat. He flung himself down on the bed and remembered there was a bag of chips in the backpack that he took to his coaching job.

He ripped the bag open and shoveled the greasy potato slices into his mouth. When he’d shaken out the last of the crumbs, he looked around for a drink, finding nothing. He had no choice but to cup water to his mouth with his hands from the bathroom sink.

He’d make sure to let his parents know that, if they planned to keep him locked up, he needed proper meals. The fact that Laura had offered him dinner and he’d turned it down only made him angrier.

Having exhausted every other form of entertainment, Drew swore he’d buy a TV tomorrow so he had something to do while in his bedroom. Then he remembered he didn’t have any money to buy a TV, and he swore again, punching a pillow.

Soon
, he reminded himself. He just had to be patient and bide his time until the wedding. Then he’d have all the money he needed. He could buy a thousand TVs, a hundred thousand. It was time to get that ball rolling. He grabbed his cell and dialed Jade’s number.

“Hello?” she asked, sounding husky as if she’d been sleeping.

“Oh, shit, sorry. I forgot it was late.” He glanced at the clock by his bed and saw it was almost midnight.

“Drew?”

“Yeah. Is it okay that I called?”

“Are you drunk?” she asked.

He huffed. “No, I’m not fucking drunk. What is
with
everybody?”

She was silent for a moment, and then he heard a rustling sound as if she were moving around in bed.

“What are you talking about, Drew?”

He explained about the night he’d had and how ridiculous his parents’ accusations were. “Don’t you agree they were totally overreacting?”

“Umm…”

“Ariel, come on!”

“I’m sure they were just concerned about you. But if you don’t think you have a problem, then I believe you. I don’t really know enough about your life to have an opinion. If I believed what the tabloids said, then I might be concerned, though.”

“They’re liars. You know that.”

She let out a long breath. “I’m sorry you’ve had a bad night. Is there something I can do to help?”

“Just talking is nice. It’s good to have someone on my side. Hey, do you want to meet up tomorrow? Maybe lunch?”

“I can’t. I’m working.”

“Prince Eric foils my plans again.”

“If you say so.” She giggled.

The sound of her laughter was soothing and he wanted to hear it again.

“Knock, knock,” he said before he lost his nerve.

“What?”

“Oh come on, Ariel. Everyone knows the response to a knock-knock joke!”

She sighed. “Who’s there?”

“Interrupting cow.”

She was silent for a moment before giving her response. She had a wary tone in her voice as she said, “Interrup—”

“Moooooooooooo!” Drew said, interrupting her. He laughed. He couldn’t help it. The joke was stupid, but it was funny. Jade groaned but gave in to a few giggles of her own.

“Hey, you wanna meet up?” he asked when they were both quiet again.

“It’s really late, Drew.”

“I know. I just want to see you. It’s been such a shit night and talking to you has really helped.”

He waited, hoping she’d say yes.

“All right. Can you pick me up?”

“Ahh, fuck. Sorry, I just remembered that my parents locked me in.”

“That’s a bit extreme. You’re a grown man.”

“Tell me about it!” Drew felt his anger come alive again, being reminded that he was trapped like a baby in a crib.

“Drew,” she said, her voice hesitant.

“Hmm?”

“Please don’t get mad. As I said earlier, I don’t really know you well enough to make a judgment, but I just want to ask something, okay?”

Drew didn’t like the sound of that.

Her voice was a whisper as she asked, “
Do
you have a problem?”

“My parents are a fucking problem.”

“Drew, please be honest.”

He let out a long breath. “It’s under control. Everyone has a few drinks.”

“I don’t drink very often,” she said. “Only a glass of champagne for a special occasion or something.”

“Well, bully for you. Living up to your Disney image.”

“Drew! Don’t be an ass. I’m your friend.”

“I better go before I say something I regret.”

He hung up the phone, feeling worse than he had before he’d called her. Guilt from being rude to her when she was trying to help him boiled in his stomach. He’d woken her up and then teased her. Nice work there, Drew!

He typed a quick text and sent it, hoping that would be enough to smooth things over.

Sorry. Had a bad night. I didn’t mean it. Sleep well, Ariel.

Her response came almost instantly and put a smile on his face.

No damage done. I’ll still marry you, but remember that I need my beauty sleep. No more late night rants.
And Drew, if you decide you want to make some changes in your life, I’m here for you. Friends, right?