The song finishes up and she heads toward the bar. I follow her, hoping that for my sake, she’ll change her mind. It’s then that I spot my father, and he’s heading straight for Mia.
Chapter Sixteen
Mia
Dr. Arnold Adams is a formidable man. A full head of hair, despite nearing his seventies, his beady eyes are sharp and roam the room until they meet mine. His mouth curls up into a sneer, which leads Alfie to squeeze my hand tightly. It’s not a comforting squeeze; it’s a warning.
“Son,” he says, his eyes flitting down to our joined hands.
“Dad, this is Mia.”
He eyes me up and down, bored, before turning back to Alfie.
“You said you were going to cut her loose.”
A sharp sting in my chest has my hand recoiling from Alfie’s, but he has the grip of a toddler trying to rip the hair from your scalp. He’s not letting go.
“Believe it or not, Father, just because you suggest something, doesn’t mean I’m going to do it. I’m with Mia, and I do not intend on breaking up with her.”
I lift my chin an inch, willing my lip not to tremble. I know men like this. They’re so sure they’re the best in their field, they do whatever they can to shit on the next generation instead of mentoring them.
“Are you going to be a working mother?”
I stare him down, his cold gaze penetrating. “I’m not sure how that’s any of your business.”
“An Adams is always my business.”
“We’re a modern couple. We may go for the double barrel. Or Alfie may take my surname. We haven’t decided yet, have we, honey?”
Alfie’s smirk tells me he’s not unhappy with my retort, so I take the opportunity to go a little further.
“You know we were even thinking of combining our names. What do you think? Do you prefer Sincladams or Clairadams? I’m leaning toward Clairadams myself.”
“A favorite of mine too,” Alfie chimes in.
“Listen here, young lady, you may think the Adams name is a mockery, but I don’t. I won’t have my son marry a scheming gold digger just so you can receive your alimony checks for the rest of your life,” he spits.
“Do you know, my mom said the same thing about Alfie? She was worried he was using me for my money. I’m from Texas originally. Big oil money, you see. Turns out our ranch was sitting on an oil field, and my daddy sold out about ten years ago. Overnight millionaires they were. My mom thought Alfie might be looking to cash in, but I assured her—" I lean in as if to tell him a secret, “—he’s just using me for my body.”
His nostrils flare; the hairs bristling out of them need a trim. Maybe I can convince Alfie to send him a nose trimmer tomorrow.
“Really Alfie? This is how you’re conducting yourself in public?” The elder Dr. Adams leans down as if trying to make me cower.
Alfie places one arm around my shoulder and the other he pulls my hand furthest from him, twisting me so I’m almost snuggling into his chest. It’s defensive, protective, and it has methinking very unprofessional thoughts about the man I’ve just insisted on only being friends with.
“You insulted Mia the second you came over here—” Alfie puffs.
“And you insulted Alfie,” I add.
“Mia is my girlfriend, and you will respect her as such or find yourself one son down.”
I peek up at Alfie, his deep brown eyes thunderous. He must have inherited them from his mom; his dad’s are a gray-blue.
“It’s okay, Alfie,” I whisper, the situation escalating. He’s defending me so vehemently. I don’t feel it’s deserved, considering I’d purposely antagonized his father.
“No, it’s not!” he shouts at his father, his finger poking at his chest. I stiffen before he turns to face me, cupping my cheek. “It’s not, love. It’s fucking rude, and believe it or not, the old goat does know better. Don’t you, Dad?”
“Talk to me when you’ve grown up, Alfie.”
