He's awake and alert, tail wagging despite the uncomfortable cone and the IV. The vet tech smiles when she sees us.
"He's been asking for you. Well, whining for you, but same thing."
Lucky licks my hand, then Draco's, his whole body wiggling with happiness. We stay for twenty minutes, just being with him, reminding ourselves that this is real. This connection, this pack, this family we're building.
This is worth fighting for.
At quarter to seven, we walk into Father's office building in Midtown. The lobby is marble and glass, ostentatiously wealthy. The security guard recognizes me immediately.
"Miss Pembroke. Your father is expecting you."
Theelevator ride to the fortieth floor is silent. Draco holds my hand. I focus on breathing.
When the doors open, Mother is waiting in Father's reception area. She takes one look at me—still in yesterday's clothes, hair hastily pulled back, no makeup—and her mouth tightens.
"You look a mess."
"I've been at the hospital with our dog." I keep my voice level. "Priorities."
"Indeed." She turns that assessing gaze on Draco. "You. In the conference room. Charity and I need to speak privately first."
"No." The word comes out firm. "Whatever you have to say, you say in front of him."
Mother's eyes narrow. "This is not a negotiation."
"You're right. It's not." I step closer to Draco, a united front. "We're a team. So either we all go in together, or we leave. Your choice."
For a long moment, I think she'll refuse. Force the confrontation right here in the reception area.
Then she turns on her heel. "Fine. But you're going to regret this stubbornness."
We follow her into the conference room where Father waits, tablet in hand, expression thunderous.
"Sit," he says, not looking up.
We sit. Draco's hand finds mine under the table.
Father sets down the tablet and finally meets my eyes. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"Saved Lucky's life?" I offer.
"Destroyed your reputation." He turns the tablet around. On the screen is an article from a Manhattan society blog.
PEMBROKE HEIRESS CAUGHT WITH MYSTERY MAN: Who is Charity Pembroke's Secret Boyfriend?
Below it, our photo. And another photo—someone must have been at the vet clinic, because there's a shot of Draco carrying Lucky inside, his face clear and focused.
"The press is going wild," Father continues. "Speculation about who this man is, where you met, how long this has been going on. Our phones are ringing nonstop. The board members are asking questions. This is a disaster."
"It's a relationship," I correct. "That's all. Two people who care about each other."
"Two people from completely different worlds." Mother leans forward. "Charity, be reasonable. You barely know this man. And now the whole city is watching, waiting to see what happens next."
"So let them watch." I lift my chin. "I have nothing to be ashamed of."
"Youshouldbe ashamed." Father's voice is hard. "Sneaking around, hiding relationships, dragging the Pembroke name through society gossip—"
"The Pembroke name survived worse than me dating someone you don't approve of."
