Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Distance-wise, it may not have been far, but danger-wise, the difference was practically insurmountable. The more I thought about it, the more I did not like her living there.
I was liking my intention of giving her twenty-four hours to process and recover even less.
“Ugh, my glass has been empty for five whole minutes,” Catherine complained, stomping her foot like a child. “Who’s in charge of this event? Who hired these waiters? They are completely unqualified for their positions. They should be grateful that they are even allowed to be in this beautiful room, let alone this country. So where are they? Why aren’t they doing their jobs? How can my glass still be empty?”
Never mind that there were several servers going around with full trays of champagne. Not to mention that the bar for cocktails, where all she had to do was walk up to get another martini, was right behind her…
Pointing that out seemed like an exercise in futility, and I did not have the patience. Instead, I took the opportunity to be rid of her for a few moments and offered to refill her drink. While waiting in line at the bar, I sent another text to Eddie demanding that she respond immediately to at least tell me that she was okay and if she planned on coming into work tomorrow, that there were things that we needed to discuss.
I wasn’t stupid enough to put what had happened in my office in writing in a text message.
God only knew who could see her phone, especially that Detective Doyle she’d been flirting with. Although I had seen to it that he wouldn’t have much free time for a new romance. Not with the new assignment he’d been given that would require him to work most nights on Staten Island as part of a joint task force to combat escalating crime on the ferries.
An abuse of power? Perhaps. Not that I gave a damn.
“Harrison, it’s a pleasure to see you here tonight.” My father clapped my shoulder as he stood next to me in line.
“Mother didn’t give me an option.” I gave him a half smile, knowing he could see the boredom all over my face.
“Yeah,” he said. “I didn’t get one either. But I’m making the most of it. After your scandal broke, she is insisting that we be seen out as much as possible at events, like it wasn’t a huge scandal, and we are perfectly fine.”
“Are you?” I asked.
“Am I what?”
“Perfectly fine. I know my parentage wasn’t a secret and hasn’t been for decades for you, but that doesn’t mean the public attention wouldn’t cause problems for you.”
“No, the wives like to gossip but it hasn’t hurt my business at all.”
“That’s good to hear,” I said, not really believing him, but I let it go.
I was going to ask my father something else, maybe about what it was like to live in a loveless, business-contract marriage since I knew he and my mother weren’t exactly a romantic match either, but I was interrupted by the emcee getting on the stage to announce that everyone was here under false pretenses.
Confused, my father and I both looked up at the stage where my mother was standing next to the emcee, and an icy feeling of dread settled in my stomach. I wasn’t sure what she was doing up there, but I was positive that I was not going to like it.
She took the mic from the emcee and started spouting on about who knew what...chance encounters...true love overcoming...blah blah blah blah blah blah bullshit. Then she reached out her hand, and Catherine took it, smiling shyly at the audience.
That was the moment I realized that her white cocktail dress, embedded with Swarovski crystals that shone in the spotlight, was not a coincidence. It was a carefully curated outfit meant to make her appear sweet and innocent. Bridal.
My mother wiped away a pretend tear and said that it was her honor to welcome Catherine into the family and to announce the engagement of this beautiful, perfect woman and her son.
Fuck my life.
I had not agreed to any of this.
I was not ready to announce the engagement.
I wasn’t even one hundred percent sure if I was going to go through with it. But now it didn’t matter. The bell had been rung, so to speak, and every single person with a billion-dollar net worth in the greater New York City area was in this one overly pompous ballroom applauding my engagement. There was no escaping it now.
Catherine stepped off the stage and ran into my arms, laying what I guessed she assumed was a passionate kiss on my lips.
She tasted bitter, like stale wine and a crushed aspirin. Her lips were cold and slimy with gloss. It was by far the most unpleasant experience I had ever had kissing anybody, and that included Mildred Windsor the summer of ninth grade when she had braces and had just finished eating garlic bread.