“Why haven’t you answered any of my texts or calls?” he asked.
“I’ve been busy.”
“Busy getting married?”
“Busy traveling for work,” I said, wanting to keep Athena out of this as much as I could.
Dad was here for a reason, and I really hoped that reason wasn’t her. He definitely knew about her, and he’d probably already had one of his assistants write up an entire file on her. She didn’t fit the Easton name or family. Not to my parents’ standards.
“Athena …” Dad said. “Is that her name?”
I gritted my teeth. “What do you want?”
Dad called to Abdul, who had been listening, but not looked over yet. Abdul peered at me, then at my father, who nodded to the bottle of whiskey behind him.
“Get my son one. He needs it.”
“Actually, I’m going home right now.”
“You’re really going to wake your wife, all because you don’t want to talk to me?” He took another sip and shook his head in disappointment. “I thought I’d taught you better than that, son. Women need their beauty sleep.”
God, I fucking hate him.
He gestured to the seat beside him. “Sit down.”
After blowing a breath through my nose, I nodded to Abdul for my regular and sat down in the stool next to my father, not sparing him a second glance. “I’ll tell you what I told Derek. One more party, and then I’m done with this family.”
Dad chuckled. “Is that so?”
Abdul slid my drink across the bar, and I nodded. “Yes.”
“What’re you going to do about your expenses? Your little business?” he asked.
“Why do you care?” I hissed. It’s not like you ever have before.
“You think your wife wants to be poor? Not when all her friends are with billionaires.”
I bit my tongue. How the fuck does he know so much about her already? Besides, Athena wasn’t like Mom, nor was she like any of the girls that Derek brought home to meet them.
“Athena doesn’t care about that,” I said.
“Sure.”
I grabbed the glass tightly. “She doesn’t.”
“She sure seemed happy when I took care of their bill at brunch today,” he said.
My nostrils flared, and I snapped my gaze over at him. “What?”
His lips curled into a smirk. “You heard me.”
Athena and the girls had seen him at brunch today? She hadn’t told me that. Usually, she came bouncing back into the apartment after someone complimented her or paid for her coffee. To pay for an entire brunch and for her not to say anything …
Maybe she had forgotten.
“We’re not going to be living in poverty,” I said. “You don’t know what poverty is.”
“Maybe not, but love”—the word came out in a chuckle—“if that’s what this is, can only go so far.”
