Dad nodded. “I can’t give you my blessing for a marriage that isn’t real.”
Before we could say more, Rosie came back to our table with a platter full of sizzling meals.
Even though I used to love this food, my stomach rejected the idea of eating a single bite.
Losing my dad’s respect?
It would be just as bad as losing everything I’d built.
15.Jada
Workingfor a multi-billion-dollar company had not adequately prepared me for brunch at Golden Café, the nicest place in Dallas. You had to have a golden card to get in, offered only to the elite and famous in the area.
Still, I felt out of place as I walked from the bus stop in my white floral sundress and thrifted platform heels. Grandma insisted I pair a cute straw hat with it, and I hoped maybe it would shade some of the blush on my cheeks as I walked past a row of paparazzi, muttering questions to each other about who I was, waiting along the sidewalk to the front entrance where a security guard stood.
He could have been a secret service agent for all the gear he was packing—mirrored sunglasses, flesh-colored earpiece and microphone, and a flawless navy suit that didn’t conceal the holster at his waist.
Judging by the lines in his forehead, I imagined he was eyeing me skeptically from behind his aviators, even though I couldn’t see his eyes.
Although my stomach was turning uncomfortably, I lifted my chin and said, “I’m here to meet with Bryce Madigan.”
From behind me, a warm voice said, “And here I thought it was a date.”
The paparazzi’s murmurs grew louder at the mention of a date. My cheeks heated as I turned to face a man walking away from a black town car, a driver shutting the back door. It may have been Sunday, but that didn’t stop downright sinful thoughts from taking residence in my brain.
His worn olive pants accentuated long, muscular legs. A belt cinched around his waist held back a simple black shirt that showed his pecs but didn’t tug at them in an obscene way. And that jawline? Remind me to use it to cut my pastry later.
“You look beautiful,” he said to me.
I grinned. “I know.” Glamma always said taking a compliment was just as important of a skill as giving one.
He chuckled low, but his response was cut off by a man with a camera calling out, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
Bryce murmured, “You don’t need to answer that.” Then he flashed the security guard his golden card. The man stepped aside to let us in, but I still felt his judgmental stare on my back. It was like he was silently screaming,You don’t belong here.
Didn’t I know it.
Inside the café felt like a different world. There was a low hum of conversation paired with soft acoustic music. The smell of food, though, was crazy strong. What were they making in here?
Clearly, I wasn’t subtle with my sniffing because Bryce said, “They’re roasting the coffee beans. You don’t like coffee?”
“I live on it,” I replied, confused. These didn’t smell like regular coffee beans, though. “Do they import them or something?”
“I think they’re Costa Rican,” he replied.
That must be it.My pallet was used to the bargain bin here lately, and this shit was name brand.
Bryce led us to a pair of armchairs and a table near the windows. Now the paparazzi weren’t shouting questions at us; they were photographing us together through the windows. And despite my earlier doubts, it hit me—Bryce wasn’t ashamed to be with me in public.
Plenty of guys were fine being with a plus-size woman in a dark bedroom, but not in broad daylight. Bryce didn’t seem to have that problem. In fact, he didn’t seem to think of it at all. His gaze was on me, a gentle smile on his lips as he said, “I’m glad you came.”
“Or else you’d be out fifty thousand dollars for nothing?” I countered, arching an eyebrow.
A subtle flush darkened his cheeks. “They told you?”
“They would have shut down for less.” I pressed my lips together, leaning across the table. To Bryce’s credit, his gaze didn’t immediately slide down to my cleavage. “I know you’re used to money getting you your way, but you can’t buy me. I’m not Julia Roberts, and you’re definitely no Richard Gere.”
He pretended to be wounded, making me laugh.
