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“What?” he demanded.
I sighed. “It’s formal. A holiday thing.”
Fuck. I should have phrased it special occasion, because he knew I didn’t do holidays. Though, really, what did it matter how I labeled the evening? He’d be incensed either way when he discovered I was getting married.
Kyle had been there for me when I’d needed an extra bodyguard so Amano and Dane could work together on their strategy with the legit members of the poli-econ society to legally bring down the corrupt members. He’d been there after Vale had attacked me and during my lowest of low moments.
Kyle was a tried-and-true friend and I adored him. Unfortunately, everything that occurred in my personal life with Dane cut him deep.
“I’ll send a car for you,” I amended. “This isn’t an easy place to get to, especially at night. And that way you can have some cocktails and not worry about driving.” He was going to need a few stiff drinks, I suspected.
“Listen to you, all queen bee–like. Lux royalty.”
“Shut up. The car will come around six thirty.”
I jotted down his address, since I’d never been to his apartment. Then said good-bye and hit the disconnect button.
Several deep, deep, deep breaths later, I made the hardest call of all.
“I’m insulted,” was the first thing my dad said, before I’d even uttered a word. “You thought I’d get lost on my way out of that maze to 89A.”
A slightly crazed laugh slipped through my lips. “Not totally. But glad to know you didn’t have any trouble.”
“Well, I did,” he lamented.
“Dad … that’s kind of funny.” My laugh was a bit calmer this time.
“You’re directionally challenged—how do you manage?”
“Practice.” Not exactly a true statement. Dane or Amano always drove. But I did pay close attention. Gathering my nerve, I said, “So tonight was a lot of fun. I was wondering … would you mind coming back tomorrow evening? Small get-together. Dinner and drinks. Festive.”
“Festive.” He seemed to try out that word like a new golf glove. “Hardly your style, sweets.”
“I know.” I was a planner, not a hostess. “It’s just that we’re sort of … that is … Dane and I are kind of … um…” I blew out a breath. “Getting married.”
“You’re what?!”
Oh, crap. Had I really just said that out loud? To my father?
My stomach twisted. “I should have told you today, in person, that he’d asked me. But I needed a little time to get used to the idea. You understand, right?” All things considered.
“Aria Lynne DeMille,” he said in his old you’re about to be grounded tone. It was the only time he used my full name. That was Mother’s specialty. Though she was essentially the last person I wanted to think of at the moment. She absolutely could not find out about my impending nuptials. Or she’d be beating down my door with some new scheme to get her hands on Dane’s money and further destroy my father’s reputation. And break my heart all over again.
My dad demanded, “What the hell is going on?”
Geez, everyone was so testy. Not that I hadn’t expected that, but still.
“Just come tomorrow night. I’ll explain everything.”
“Are you kidding me?” he grumbled.
“Not in the least.”
“Ari. Shit.”
I imagined him stalking about, shoving a hand through his russet hair and shaking his head. The way he had when I’d told him I was letting go of the townhome rental and moving in with my new boyfriend who also happened to be my boss. I’d dropped that bombshell at my father’s house. Damn it, I should have told him this news to his face.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
