“No promises.” Asher smirked, running his thumb along my jaw. “But it’s up to her.”
“We’ll see.” I winked at him. “For now, let’s focus on getting through the gala.”
***
We reached Forward Racing’s headquarters with barely any time to spare before the official start.
Asher held the car door open, and as soon as I stepped onto the sidewalk, he laced our fingers together. “Ready?”
“I don’t know,” I murmured, leaning into him. “But it needs to be done. I refuse to pretend you and I are nothing to each other.”
He guided me toward the entrance. A few men in suits greeted him, and he nodded back without slowing.
“Do you miss the team?” I asked.
He waited for me to step into the lobby, then followed. “The team was fine, and most of the people I worked with were too, but it wouldn’t have gotten me where I wanted. Eventually, I would’ve had to change.”
“I was surprised you signed with Vortex and not a Spanish team,” I said as we wove past clusters of chatting guests on our way to the hall.
Chuckling, Ash dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “You and your faith in me. No Spanish team made an offer, but I also asked Ale to focus on teams here.”
“Why?”
He paused at the threshold. “You.”
That one word warmed my chest. I squeezed his fingers, and he gave me one of those dazzling, tender smiles reserved for me. Then we stepped into the hall.
I spotted my father and Sharon near the stage. His pink tie matched her dress, and they were grinning at each other the way they had at the wedding. Those smiles would vanish once they saw us.
“Let’s go say hi,” Asher said.
Two years ago, we would’ve kept our distance—no closeness, just secret glances. Now my hand was clasped in his.
As we approached, their conversation stopped. Both stared.
My father’s jaw flexed as soon as he saw us. Sharon’s fingers went to her gold necklace, eyes darting like paparazzi might pop out from behind the stage. His narrowed gaze locked on our joined hands.
“What the hell is this?” he hissed. “You’ve lost all shame.”
“Hi, Dad.” I kept my voice even. “This is me coming to the event with my boyfriend.”
Red splotches crept up his neck, rage straining to break loose. “Boyfriend? He’s family. Do you want the whole world to think you’re disgusting? To think I raised a daughter with no morals?”
Asher stepped forward, partly shielding me. “Last time I checked, my last name is Williams. And I’d be careful how you speak to my girlfriend.”
“I can’t believe it, Asher,” Sharon cut in, her voice sharp now, no pretense left. “You barely call, you don’t visit, and when you finally show your face, this is how you repay us? By humiliating us on one of the most important nights of Russell’s career?”
I laughed, sharp as glass. “Sorry to inform you, Sharon, but us showing up together has nothing to do with either of you. Maybe ask why your son doesn’t call. I’ve got a few guesses. Like the fact you’ve never really cared about him.”
She let out a brittle laugh. “And of course, you’d know. You’ve been here what, five minutes? You think clinging to him makes you an expert? He’s a boy who doesn’t know what loyalty is. You’ll find out when he leaves you too.”
“You say you care to make yourself feel better,” I snapped. “But when he was in the hospital, did you visit? I didn’t see you. Neither did Alejandro.”
Asher’s grip tightened on my hand. His eyes on mine—so much love, so much gratitude—were enough to keep me standing.
My father crossed his arms. “So this is your punishment for me not paying for your degree? Dragging that boy in here, humiliating me in front of people who respect me?”
I lifted my chin. “If your daughter’s happiness humiliates you, maybe you shouldn’t have had kids.”
