“One drink isn’t going to kill me. It helps to loosen the arteries.”
“You’ve been reading the internet again. What did I tell you about that?”
“I should have never sent you to Harvard.”
“Too late. You are stuck with the result. Now, no drinking.”
“Don’t worry. I fully intend to dance at your wedding.”
I scoffed. “Then you better follow all the doctor’s orders, because that is a long time coming.”
“Hmmm,” he mumbled in a displeased tone.
The doorbell rang, and I scrunched my face in thought trying to place who it could be at this hour.
“Who can that be?”
“I believe it’s Tobias,” said my father with an evil grin.
“He better not lead you to drink,” I said. After my heels clicked hollowly on the atrium’s marble floor before I yanked open the door. But instead of the usual business-suited Tobias, he stood framed in the doorway wearing a tuxedo.
I stared and swallowed hard, because what man doesn’t look good in a tuxedo. But Tobias didn’t just look good, he looked smoking, and I can envision a new tuxedoed version of Tobias haunting my dreams tonight. Forget me remaining cool, calm and collected in my concert garb. Heat traveled from my thighs and up my spine.
I was in humongous trouble.
“What are you doing here?”
“Taking you to the concert.”
“Oh no. We agreed—”
“Not to see each other until the concert.”
Leave to a lawyer to nail down the intent of an agreement to the letter. I had been sloppy with my words. My bad. And how am I rewarded for my carelessness?
Getting to hang on the arm of the gorgeous silver-fox.
“Tobias, is that you?” called my father.
“Yes, Franklin. Just picking up Jacine as you asked.”
“Thanks.”
My eyes narrowed. “My father put you up to this? Because Anson can—”
“I gave Anson the night off,” my father called.
Tobias might be a silver-fox, but my father had ears like one.
I stepped from the hall to the living room with my heels clicking like gunshots on the marble floor.
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I know you want to avoid those disasters in rocker clothing, and Tobias will protect you from them.”
“What?” I could not believe this. “Who said I needed protection?”
“I do. Daughter, I hate to tell you this, but someone sold me a particularly salacious recording of you and a certain musician in a hospital conference room.”
