Okay. Maybe I’m not as patient as I thought. But he’s such a pompous turd.
“You think that was me losing control?” I turn to fully face him, my elbow on the bar. “That was me showing remarkable restraint. Miles deserved to have his block knocked off for the way he spoke about Lilavati. About yourdaughter.” I lean on that last word. Not that it makes him think twice about his attitude.
“This is exactly what I mean. Resorting to violence at the slightest provocation.” Warren’s tone is loaded with condescension.
I take a deep breath and count to ten. Well, I make it to seven at least.
“Two things, Wazza.” I use the nickname deliberately, knowing he’ll hate it. The increased colour in his face confirms I was right. “One, the provocation was not slight. I won’t tolerate disrespect of my partner from anyone, on any level. Which is something you should bear in mind yourself. And two, I have never had to resort to violence in my life, but should it be necessary, I will.”
“You overreacted. It was a bucks’ night. He was drunk. And as Lili’s father, I expect you to show me some respect.” Oh, so now he’s pulling the father card? Fucker.
“He’s a misogynist, drunk or sober. As are you. And I’ll show you some respect when you’ve earned it. So far, you’re way short of the bar.”
A vein suddenly pops out on his forehead and starts pulsing. Fuck. I hope he doesn’t have an aneurysm. Although, if I’ve met anyone who deserves one more, I can’t remember them.
“I’d be very careful if I were you. Marion and I were giving Lili the opportunity to come to her senses and realise you’re beneath her on her own. But I won’t hesitate to step in and make sure you’re history if she doesn’t wake up to herself soon.”
“For a man who doesn’t appear to give a damn about his daughter, you certainly seem invested in her relationships.” I break off and signal my drink order to the server. “Fortunately for Lilavati, your opinion doesn’t matter to me. Hers does.”
“I will not have that girl embarrassing our family by marrying a beach bum. Consider yourself on notice, Anthony.” That pulsing vein is taking on a life of its own.
“And there we have it. Your real concern. But don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of hurting Lilavati by telling her what a total bastard you really are.” I take a sip of my drink to stop myself from saying more. Because if I let go, this will get ugly.
“How very gallant of you. I, however, will do what needs to be done, should it become necessary. Destroying you would be a pleasure, frankly.”
I’ve had more than enough of this conversation.
“Knock yourself out.” I pick up the drinks the barman has put in front of me and return to the table where Lilavati is chatting with Louise.
“What was all that about?” Lil asks with a worried frown, looking over my shoulder to where Warren still stands at the bar, glaring at us.
I’m not going to lie to her. But like I told her stepfather, I don’t want to cause her any more stress or heartbreak.
“Just getting instructions from Warren on how to behave at a wedding.” I drop a kiss on top of her head and put her drink in her hand. “I’m off to take a whizz. Will you be alright for a minute?”
She nods and I stride off. I need a minute to cool down.
I know I should’ve held my tongue, if only for Lil’s sake. Making an enemy of Warren wasn’t my plan, but the way these men treat their wives and girlfriends behind their backs makes my skin crawl. And the fact that they have the audacity to think they’re better than me—than anyone—gives me the screaming shits.
I only have to put up with this—in such close proximity at least—for another forty-eight hours or so, then Lil and I will be on our way home.
Once we’re back on our own turf, we’re going to have a chat about what’s going on between us. Because for me, Lilavati is endgame. And I won’t allow Warren or Miles or any other fucker from this crowd to mess with that.
Once I’ve calmed down, I make my way back to the table and collect Lil. The food and wine might be exceptional, but the company sucks and I don’t want to spend another minute at this ridiculous party.
What I want is to spend some quality time with Lilavati. In her grass skirt. And nothing else.
“Do you think you can be very, very quiet?” I ask, pressing my lips against the curve where Lilavati’s neck meets her shoulder as she swipes the keycard at the door. History would suggest the answer is no, but we’ve yet to make full use of the lanai and we’re running out of days.
“Why would I … ohh,” Lil responds, working out what I’m planning by the way I lead her through the apartment, turning out lights as I go, and stepping us past the wide glass doors.
The tiki torches from the luau flicker in the distance, the sound of music and the chatter of the guests floating up to us on the flower-scented evening breeze.
“We haven’t properly christened the lanai.”
We come to a stop in front of the big, round outdoor bed.
Lil quirks an incredulous brow at my response. She’s thinking about the very pleasant couple of hours we spent making out after our snorkelling trip to Molokini Crater. Hours during which she showed off her manual dexterity, and which I, of course, had to repay. Twice.
