Enemies and Playmates by Darcia Helle Page A

business.”
    Lauren took a deep breath. She struggled to keep her tone calm. “Tonight will be hard enough for mom without -”
    “She should be thrilled.” Stephen’s words were heavy with sarcasm. He glared at Lauren as if daring her to disagree. “Her superior husband is being honored tonight. The entire city, maybe even the state, will know what a truly giving and amazing man she’s married to.”
    “Stephen, please -”
    “I ain’t playing his fucking games.”
    “Stop it!” Lauren’s voice was hushed but forceful. “If he hears you, we’ll all be in for it.”
    “Fuck him.”
    “You’re high on something.”
    “No shit.”
    “You might not care what happens to you. But you could give a little thought to me and Mom.”
    Just then Kara’s voice called out from the living room. “Lauren, Stephen, where are you two?”
    “In the kitchen, Mom!” Lauren called. “We’ll be right there.”
    Alex’s sharp voice cut through the house. “Let’s go!”
    Lauren glared at Stephen. “You won’t think you’re so smart if he beats the hell out of Mom because of you.” She took a breath mint from her purse, popped it into his mouth. “Now behave yourself.”
    Alex and Kara were waiting in the foyer. Alex stood in front of the antique mirror, adjusting his Tank Francoise cufflinks. Stephen stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared down at the floor. No one said a word.
    Finally Alex turned. Addressing them all, he said, “I expect a lot of smiles this evening.”
    “Of course,” Kara said. “We’re thrilled -”
    “Do not patronize me,” Alex said. “This entire trivial ceremony is a farce. I could not care less what those women at the shelter think of me and you know that.”
    “Sorry,” Kara mumbled.
    “As you know, I have to do a certain amount of public relations to maintain my image,” Alex said. “The work my firm did for those women was nothing more than that. While I would have preferred to send one of my employees to this ceremony, those in charge of the shelter requested my presence. I couldn’t possibly refuse.”
    Lauren swallowed her comment. Imagine her father counseling battered women. The thought made her nauseous. If only those people knew the truth about him. But no one ever would.
    The ceremony was being held at a restaurant on the south end of Boston, not too far from the shelter. As Alex swung his Lexus LS into the parking lot, he grunted. “And I am expected to eat a meal here,” he said.
    Lauren said nothing. She had eaten there before and knew the food was good. She also knew her father wouldn’t like it. His taste buds were activated strictly by atmosphere and a very particular class of people.
    “Maybe the food will be good,” Kara said. “You never know.”
    Alex slammed the car into park. “Let’s get this over with.”
    During dinner, Stephen openly flirted with a young woman seated at a table behind them. She was with a group of other women, all in their early twenties. Despite Alex’s warning glares, Stephen continued. While the woman seemed to take Stephen’s attention as harmless playfulness, Alex was clearly appalled. The knot in Lauren’s stomach tightened.
    Immediately following dinner, the ceremony began. Alex played the part of the gracious recipient. He stood at the podium and began his speech with the importance of getting involved in one’s community. He then went on to say how shocked he was upon first learning the statistics involving battered women. The number of women beaten, he said, was alarming and intolerable. Communities needed to rally around these women, to give them a place to turn so that they didn’t need to remain in such atrocious and life-threatening situations. He finished by stating how proud he was to have been of service to these women in their time of need.
    Alex stepped from the podium to a standing ovation. Lauren stood on wobbly legs. Her stomach heaved. Kara stood beside her, clapping and smiling. Lauren