I clear my throat, already concocting a plan. I can’t force Lena to tell me she loves me, but I can show her how much I love her. She deserves the best. If this is my last shot to prove it, I want to make it count. I don’t want to tell her goodbye, and I’ll do everything it takes to make her want to stay.
“I want to make it feel special. Really make people take notice so the shock is that much greater when we call it quits, you know?” I don’t even like saying it out loud, but it’s my reality. “I want us to finish on a high note, as they say.”
“They do say that. Not usually about breakups, but who am I to judge.” He chuckles. “What did you have in mind?”
For a moment, I wonder if I’m overstepping by asking him for favors. He’s not my personal assistant, but as my manager,he’s the only one as invested in this as I am. “Can you find out what color Lena’s dress is for the gala?”
“Why can’t you ask her?”
Because it might be awkward, given how we parted ways tonight. And also the last thing I want to do is remind her one more time that we’re almost over. Almost.
“Just find out, please.”
He snorts. “That’s it?”
“And I need the number of the best florist you know. And some balloons.”
“Balloons?”
A few moments and a little explanation later, I hang up on a confused but compliant Jason.
I want our last evening together to be special. My chest pinches as my street comes into view ahead. I knew someday we’d end, but I never expected to not want it to. I could never have predicted I’d fall in love with her. Sadness slithers in that a night which could be so memorable is going to be completely overshadowed by what I now accept is simply a business deadline.
I fall in love, and Lena still sees a deadline.
A bitter laugh escapes me when I think about how desperately I wanted to kiss her tonight. Embarrassment streaks through the pain. I was thinking about being alone with her, and she was thinking about dumping me. And it’s all happening the night that I meet her dad? Admittedly, that’s still something that makes me nervous, but what puts me even more on edge is the fact that I’ll be meeting him… and then dumping his daughter.
As Ives pulls into my garage and I shuffle out into the dark night, I decide to take the stairs. There’s no time for the gym tonight, and the only thing that helps me process my thoughts is moving. And I have a lot to think about.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
LENA
“Areyou sure this doesn’t look ridiculous?” Dad adjusts his velvet jacket, tugging at the lapels. The deep rosewood shade of it perfectly mimics the details of my mother’s ball gown. I can’t remember the last time I saw him dressed in anything but a linen shirt.
My mom rolls her eyes. “It doesn’t, Roger. It’s great with your complexion, and it matches your new glasses.”
It’s the closest thing to a compliment I’ve heard her give him in years. She sashays down the long hall of my house, leaving me alone with my dad.
He straightens his collar again, gazing out the wall of windows overlooking the dusky coastline before turning to me. “Please tell me she isn’t just trying to shut me up.”
I smile, more than glad he’s here, even if we aren’t spending his birthday lowkey, at home, and in Florida like we’d originally planned. “You’re the most handsome birthday boy I’ve ever seen.”
“Ha! Boy.” He arches a graying brow from under the frame of his round glasses. “You and your flattery. That’s why I miss you when you’re gone.”
I roll my eyes. “I learned from the best.”
He smiles at himself in the mirror before reaching back out for the bubbly my mother poured him an hour ago. No doubt it has lost its chill.
“I’m glad you’re here, Dad.”
He sips and smiles. “Me too, Lena-Love.”
My mother clomps through the room, shoving in her chandelier earrings and dismissing the staff that helped us dress and get ready tonight. Antonia flits around behind her, wearing a wide-legged plum pant suit that beautifully complements her bronze complexion and fits her personality. She’s all about function and practicality.
“Oh! When do I get to meet this boyfriend?” My dad drains his glass and sets it down as one of our assistants scoops it up and replaces it with another.
My stomach drops. It’s not the usual I-get-to-see-Decker drop that typically slams into me. It’s harsher, edged with dread, and it takes me a few moments to find an answer. My dad is meeting Decker on the last night I get to spend with him. The last night before our breakup.
