Flicking a quick look over his shoulder, I find Paige on thesidewalk, embroiled in a tense conversation with her mother, of which I’m sure I’m the subject.
You brought a bartender to your cousin’s rehearsal dinner, Paige? Really?
“I’m not sure how that would work, considering I’m working the reception,” I remind him. My company is contracted to provide ten bartenders for Millie’s reception. “If something goes wrong, I’ll have to?—”
“Nonsense,” Mr. Blackwell chuckles. “Leandra and I expect to see you there—we won’t take no for an answer.”
Again, since it’s either accept his generosity or refuse it, I err on the side of caution. Preston Blackwell has been on the cover ofForbesno less than a dozen times over the past decade. Even if he hadn’t single-handedly helped me build my business by recommending me to all of his wealthy friends, I’d rather eat a bag of hairy dicks than tell him no.
“See you Sunday, sir.”
Flashing me a quick grin, Millie’s father gives me another back slap while his driver opens the limo door behind me, effectively managing to shove me into it before I can change my mind. Door slammed shut in my face, I slump into the seat in defeat. Letting my head fall back, I close my eyes before letting out a tired sigh because my full circle moment just turned into my worst fucking nightmare. “Shit.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Hearing her voice, my eyes fly open and my head jerks up so fast a cramp shoots down the side of my neck.
Millie.
Sitting on the bench seat opposite of mine and staring straight at me.
TEN
Where are you?
Staring at Allister’s text, I feel my shoulders go stiff. Dinner was an absolute nightmare. Sitting next to him, pretending that I’m still oblivious to the fact that he’s sleeping with my cousin, was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Are you sure that’s what made dinner a nightmare, Millie?
Looking up from my phone, I can see Allister through the dark tinted glass of the limo, standing on the sidewalk a few yards from where I’m sitting, watching his phone screen like he’s waiting for my reply.
You’re not sitting, Millie.
You’re hiding.
You’re hiding from that slimeball when what youshouldbe doing is confronting him. Maybe even scratching his eyes out on a public street.
A few feet away from where Allister is standing, I can see Paige. She’s wrapped around Dean’s arm like a boa constrictor. Using her hold on him, she pulls him down to whisper something in his ear that flattens the curve of his mouth in irritation. Looking around, he spots my father standing off to the side, near the valet booth. Pulling his arm loose, Dean walks up to him, a friendly smile on his face, arm extended in an offered handshake. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he actually has manners.
The phone in my hand lets out a ding and I look down to see another text from Allister.
Allister: I know you’re reading my texts. Your receipts are on.
Another ding.
Allister: You turned off your location.
Another ding.
Allister: First that ridiculous dress and now you just disappear from our rehearsal dinner? What’s gotten into you?
Another ding.
Allister: Millie, you’re starting to worry me.
I bet.
Tapping out a quick reply, I hit send.
