“Hey,” the woman responded, still not looking up.
I could feel my dad’s watchful eye on us as Percy delivered our waters. His eyes narrowed as he scanned down my casual outfit. He was far more pleased by Greer’s pretty dress. I’d like to think that was because he was happy his only child had such a lovely date, but I knew it wasn’t.
His glare cut to the woman next to him. “Dinner will be served soon. Go get dressed.”
“But I always wear my pajamas on Christmas. It’s, like, a tradition.”
“Skylar.”
At his biting tone, she dropped the whine and the indifference. She offered him a full smile as she stood with a bubbly bounce. “You’re right. Be right back.”
Greer used the momentary distraction to lean closer, her voice barely audible. “You’re an only child.”
I lifted my chin. “I am.”
“So that’s not your sister…?”
“It is not.”
Her nose scrunched before smoothing out just as my father gave us his attention again.
“So how long have you been seeing each other?” His polite question was quickly undercut when he looked at me. “It couldn’t have been long. Weren’t you just tied to some socialmedia something?” He shook his head. “You need to be more careful when you leave clubs in the middle of the night. The bad lighting made you look bloated.”
Greer’s body turned into one of the damn statues as she stiffened next to me.
Yup.
I owe her more than fruit.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
AND AREN’T THEY THE PICTURE OF HOLIDAY HAPPINESS?
GREER
Well, Tripp warned me.
Honestly, Clark Carter wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. Based on Tripp’s description, I’d been braced for a lecherous devil with hooves and horns. Instead, he was only kind of crappy. And honestly? That wasn’t bad. He was a typical celebrity. A little inappropriate. A little egotistical. A little too blunt since he probably never had to watch his words the way we peasants did. Otherwise, he was friendly and funny, with the same throwaway flirtatiousness his son had.
Of course, I was now sleeping with Tripp, so maybe that wasn’t the best example.
While we waited for dinner, Clark peppered us with questions that I did my best to deflect back to him. I was good at that. If there was one thing I knew about famous people, they loved to talk about themselves. Actually, that was true of most people,and he was no exception. He had a lot of interesting stories to tell, so it wasn’t a dull hardship.
Especially since Tripp was rewarding my effort by teasing a rough fingertip along my thigh, following the hem of my skirt.
Skylar eventually returned in a dress that showed even more than her pajamas had. Clark pinched the bridge of his nose but otherwise ignored his… companion.
When Percival filled the entryway to announce that dinner was ready, Tripp let out a muttered, “About damn time.”
“We’ve only been here for a little while,” I whispered back.
“A little while in Hell is seven hundred years in the real world.”
“In that case, I hope they have flying cars when we get back out there.” I grinned as he helped me to my feet, going so far as to steady my hips that didn’t need steadying. He gave me another squeeze before moving his arm to wrap around my shoulders as we walked.
The grand dining room looked like something out of a Hallmark movie. Staff members were busy fussing with last-minute details as we sat at the long table. Clark was at the head, with Skylar and I on either side, and Tripp at the other end.
Unsurprisingly, that didn’t work for him. He pulled out my chair, settling me in before moving the other place setting so he was sitting right next to me. I caught a small smile on Percival’s face as he stepped in to assist.
