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Why do I feel this way? Where else could I have seen her?
Chapter Sixteen - Sloane
Myah was sulking when I left her earlier this evening. If I weren’t an adult woman, I probably would don the same attitude. But instead, I’m wearing this somewhat inappropriate gown for a business meeting. It’s too tight and too revealing, and I hate it so much. The dress arrived after my father left, and it had this authoritative note that said, wear or else.
When I finally arrive at the restaurant, I have to wait for my father, who is late. I can’t even go inside because the reservation is not under his name, and I don’t even know who he is supposed to meet. So, I have to bear the lewd stares thrown at me. The hostess kindly informs me that I can wait inside, but I don’t want to stay under her pity stares. Everything about this evening is beginning with a sour note.
My father arrives a whole hour after I did. And I have, since then, learned that he intentionally gave me the wrong time so I would not be late. The thought, this is it, crosses my mind. So, instead of following him inside, I turn around to leave. He catches me, though, and forcefully drags me inside. This is such a posh restaurant that the snooty customers just turn a blind eye to such a clear violation of freedom. But not Owen.
After the argument with my father, the General seems to forget Chris Keeley is even here because he is too busy staring at my eyes. Realization dawns on me. And the fear of my father turns into the fear of Owen finally realizing who I am. So, I finally speak up to break the tension.
“General Lewis, thank you for your thoughtfulness. But my father and I are just having a petty squabble. I wish you a wonderful evening.”
I don’t wait for him to reply. I just drag my father away, far, far from my secret lover and his inquisitive eyes. Thankfully, my father doesn’t speak a word about it, probably because he finally met his match—a person who wouldn’t back down.
I smile despite my situation because I suddenly remember Myah’s steely demeanor, which greatly resembles her father’s. Those two are like two peas in a pod.
My father yanks his arm free from my grasp and turns to a table near the veranda. When I finally see the person he is meeting with, I stop in my tracks. This man is not the usual old men he deals with because he looks like he is only a few years older than me. What the hell! Is this another relationship setup?
The conniving Chris Keeley turns to me and smirks. I want to run far, far away again, but not from Owen, from my father this time. He will never stop until he finally sells me off to someone who can triple his riches. Dad must have sensed my sudden realization because he walks to me and grabs my arm tightly.
“Don’t make a scene,” he whispers angrily.
I relent because I feel trapped with nowhere else to go but the empty seat beside the stranger that my father is meeting. I also start to feel the panic rising inside my chest. So, I grab the sides of my chair for support. Then, I drown the sound of their chatting with the clicking of utensils and the lively chatter of the people around us. I want to be anywhere else but in this moment.
Fortunately, the other man doesn’t seem to notice my mental absence. He doesn’t bother looking at me, much to my father’s disappointment. In fact, he is just all business from what I gather in the snippets of conversation that I catch. So, I let my eyes wander. And that’s when I see Owen, sitting by the bar, still watching us.
Why can’t he let me be tonight? I cannot deal with him and my father at the same time. That’s too much.
Suddenly, my father turns to me and steps on my feet under the table. I wince in pain because his shoes are heavy, and I’m wearing heels. His eyes say that I should make an effort to contribute to whatever they are talking about, or there’s hell to pay. I want to cry, but I notice Owen heading towards us in the corner of my eyes. I don’t want another scene, so I make an excuse about needing to find the powder room.
I stop to ask a passing server where the restroom is to check whether Owen is following me. And he is. I head towards the hall to find a quiet place to reprimand him. I need to make him know that I can’t have him hovering over us like a concerned husband. The threatening, or else, in the note looms over my head as I pass tables and finally reach a pretty deserted area that is partially hidden from everyone else.
