“Nova…” There’s a hint of desperation in his tone, but he doesn’t finish as a voice interrupts.
“This must be the woman who organized the event?” The male speaking sounds neither impressed or disappointed.
Owen takes a large step back from me and practically stutters, “Father. Yes. This is Nova.”
Father.Oh.
I extend my hand. “A pleasure to meet you, sir.”
He takes it and shakes firmly. “I’ve heard good things about you but was wary of them since it was my son who hired you.”
My eyes widen, and I have the sudden urge to hurt this man.
Owen flinches beside me but doesn’t respond to the dig.
“I am pleasantly surprised with your work, Miss Riley,” Owen’s father continues. “Wonderful to have a competent employee at Regenerative Industries, even if you are only assisting with the charity work.”
Plastering a fake smile on my face, I grit my teeth. “Thank you.”
If he continues with the passive-aggressive insults, I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold myself back.
Owen either senses it or sees the balls I’ve formed with my fists, and he grabs onto me, prying my fingers apart until his are wrapped between them.
“As for you,” Owen’s father turns to him, “Noell tells me you’re going to have to file bankruptcy soon.” If his tone was even before, it now sounds downright lethal.
I overlooked Noell until this moment. She stands behind Owen’s father. There’s a grimace on her face as her name spills from his mouth.
Owen glances briefly at Noell before addressing his father. “She’s correct.”
His father clenches his jaw then spits, “You’re a disgrace. Your mother would be so disappointed.”
Owen tenses. “This isn’t the time nor the place to be discussing this.”
Owen’s father stands at the same height as his son. Like with Parker, they all share a similar build and bone structure, but Owen’s father is pale with dark brown hair and dark blue eyes.
Those eyes stare at Owen with such disdain that I almost say something, but Noell beats me to it.
“Shall we get a drink, Mr. Mills?” she offers to Owen’s father.
He gives Owen one more seething look before stalking after Noell, heading for the bar.
Owen stands stiffly beside me, his hand trembling in mine. I squeeze in silent support. His green eyes are shiny with unshed tears as they meet mine, and my heart breaks as I stare at them.
“Dance with me?” I offer.
He suddenly comes back to the room and looks toward the atrium and string quartet in the corner. When his eyes meet mine, they’ve brightened. “This is not dancing music, Miss Riley. This is a waltz.”
I cock my head to the side and give him a challenging grin. “The waltz is a dance if I’m not mistaken.”
He smirks, and the sight allows me to breathe for the first time in minutes.
“You know how to waltz, Miss Riley?”
The odd thing is, it was a skill that was taught during my field training with the CIA. Apparently, influential people still waltz.
“I do,” I reply.
Owen shakes his head. “Of course you do.”
