Dinner With Mrs Prescott

Susan

I had no idea why I agreed to this dinner. Maybe it was Elliot’s insistence, or maybe it was my own need to prove I wasn’t afraid of his mother. Either way, I found myself seated across from Mrs. Prescott in an exclusive restaurant, the air thick with tension.

She was as intimidating as I remembered...poised, elegant, and utterly unreadable. The kind of woman who could tear someone apart with a single glance. And right now, all that cold, assessing energy was focused on me.

The waiter had just poured our wine when she finally broke the silence.

“I appreciate you agreeing to meet with me, Susan,” she said, though her tone held no warmth.

“Of course,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. “Elliot told me you wanted to talk.”

She took a sip of her wine before setting the glass down with precision. “Yes, I did. I wanted to meet the woman who has suddenly reappeared in my son’s life after all these years.”

I stiffened at the way she said it. Like I had plotted my way back into Elliot’s world.

“I didn’t plan this,” I said evenly. “Fate just… had its own ideas.”

Mrs. Prescott smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Fate,” she echoed. “An interesting way to put it.” She folded her hands together, studying me. “Tell me, Susan, do you love my son?”

The directness of the question caught me off guard. I hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yes.”

She tilted her head slightly. “And yet, you haven’t accepted his proposal.”

I swallowed. “Marriage isn’t something I take lightly.”

Her smile was razor-sharp. “Neither do I.” She leaned back in her chair, exuding effortless power. “Which is why I’m going to be very honest with you.”

I braced myself.

“I don’t think you’re the right choice for Elliot,” she said smoothly. “You don’t belong in our world, Susan. And that’s not an insult...it’s a reality.”

I clenched my fists under the table. “And what exactly does your world require?”

She gave me a knowing look. “Someone who understands what it means to stand beside a Prescott. Someone who fits.”

I exhaled slowly. “Mrs. Prescott, if you’re worried that I won’t support Elliot, you don’t have to be. I have always...”

“This isn’t about support,” she interrupted, her voice calm but firm. “It’s about compatibility. My son has built an empire. He carries the Prescott name, the Prescott legacy. And you? You don’t have the background, the connections, or the refinement to stand beside him the way a wife should.”

I stared at her, my pulse hammering.

She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t sneer or insult me outright. But her words cut deep all the same.

I could walk away.

I could throw my napkin on the table, tell her to go to hell, and leave Elliot to deal with his overbearing mother.

But I didn’t.

Because I knew what kind of woman I was. And I refused to let her make me feel like I was less.

I picked up my glass, took a sip of wine, and set it down carefully. Then I met her gaze head-on.

“Mrs. Prescott, let me be clear about something.” My voice was calm, but firm. “I may not come from money. I may not have been raised in high society or attended galas as a child. But I know what it means to work hard. I know what it means to love someone...not for their wealth, but for who they are.”

She didn’t respond, but her expression tightened ever so slightly.

“I have no intention of leaving Elliot, and I’m not going to apologize for loving him,” I continued. “I won’t force you to approve of me, but I also won’t let your disapproval dictate my choices. If Elliot wants to marry me, it’s because he believes I belong in his life. And that’s enough for me.”

Silence stretched between us.

For the first time, Mrs. Prescott looked genuinely surprised.

She studied me for a long moment before finally speaking. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you?”

I smirked. “I have to be.”

She took another sip of wine, eyes still locked on mine. And then, to my complete shock, she let out a small, amused chuckle.

“I see why he’s drawn to you,” she murmured, almost to herself. Then, setting her glass down, she exhaled. “Very well, Susan. We’ll see how this plays out.”

It wasn’t approval. Not exactly. But it wasn’t rejection either.

And for now, that was enough.

****

Susan

As I stepped out of the cab, I halted in my tracks.

Elliot stood by my apartment building, leaning casually against his car. His suit jacket was off, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and his sleeves rolled up. He looked effortlessly composed, but the moment his gaze locked onto me, I saw it...he had been waiting.

I swallowed. I knew why he was here.

I took a deep breath and walked toward him, my heels clicking softly against the pavement.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice low but steady.

I arched a brow. “I didn’t know I was on a schedule.”

He smirked slightly, but his eyes remained serious. “How did it go?”

I hesitated for a second. “She’s… skeptical.”

His jaw tensed, his fingers flexing at his sides. “Skeptical?”

“She thinks I don’t fit,” I admitted. “She doesn’t approve.”

Elliot’s entire body went rigid. “She doesn’t get to decide that.”

I smiled softly. “I told her the same thing.”

His stance relaxed just a little. “And?”

“She said she’ll ‘see how it plays out.’” I made air quotes, mimicking his mother’s words with a dramatic roll of my eyes.

Elliot let out a scoff, shaking his head. “Typical.” Then his expression shifted, and he took a step closer. “But what about you?”

I blinked. “What about me?”

His eyes darkened. “How do you want this to play out, Susan?”

I felt the heat creeping up my neck, not just from his question, but from the intensity in his gaze. His voice had dropped lower, his fingers brushed lightly over my wrist, and I could feel the warmth of his body radiating toward mine.

Elliot always had this effect on me. Always made my breath hitch, my thoughts scatter. And now, standing so close, the weight of everything between us hung heavy in the air.

He tilted his head. “You still haven’t given me an answer.”

My heart pounded.

He was right. I had dodged it. Had let fear and doubt keep me from saying what I already knew deep down.

I loved him. I had never stopped loving him.

And despite all the uncertainties...despite his mother’s disapproval, despite the ghosts of our past...one thing remained unchanged.

I wanted him.

I wanted us.

So I took a deep breath, stepped forward, and pulled him down into a kiss.

Elliot inhaled sharply against my lips, his hands gripping my waist instantly, his body pressing into mine. He kissed me back without hesitation, his mouth claiming mine with raw, unrestrained passion.

The moment deepened. His fingers tangled in my hair, his other hand firmly holding my waist, pulling me closer, as if he wanted to consume me entirely.

I moaned softly, feeling the fire between us ignite. The street, the night air, everything else faded away...there was only him.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathless. His forehead rested against mine, his grip still firm around my waist.

“Susan,” he rasped, his voice low and desperate.

I exhaled, my fingers tightening around his collar. “Yes.”

His brows furrowed slightly, like he hadn’t fully processed what I’d just said.

A small smile crept onto my lips. “Yes, Elliot. I’ll marry you.”

For a second, he just stared at me, his grip tightening. Then, before I could take another breath, he crushed his lips to mine again.

This time, the kiss was deeper, hungrier. His hands roamed down my back, pressing me against him as he devoured me completely.

“Say it again,” he growled against my lips.

I smirked, breathless. “Yes.”

His lips curved into a wicked grin before he kissed me even harder, his hands sliding lower, his body pressing against mine in a way that sent heat spiraling through my core.

The night was far from over.