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Chapter Eighteen
Nate felt like a penguin in the Sahara Desert: overdressed, out of place, and at the mercy of brutal, sear-your-skin-off heat—only in this case, said heat came not from the sun but from the glare of his girlfriend’s father.
Roger Carrera loathed him. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
Nate sensed it in the tightness of Roger’s smile, the painful grip of the other man’s hand when he shook it, and, oh yeah, that unrelenting glare.
Perhaps it was the normal suspicion a father would have toward his daughter’s new boyfriend, but Nate sensed it ran deeper than that. Failing the Fatherly Interrogation hadn’t helped either.
Nate’s college degree? Nonexistent.
His upcoming movie role? An unnamed, inconsequential one in the grand scheme of things, even if it was opposite Oscar Bravo.
His side job? A waiter, with a few modeling and catering gigs thrown in if he got lucky and had the time.
His parents? Oh, boy.
Luckily, the arrival of the remaining guests saved Nate from having to expound on his father’s career—as in, Michael had none—or broach the morbid subject of his mother’s death, which Nate had zero desire to discuss at a fancy Beverly Hills dinner party hosted by his girlfriend’s father and attended by his biggest idols.
“You’re doing great,” Kris whispered while Roger greeted the new guests.
“You and I have different definitions of ‘great.’” Nate adjusted his tie and winced at the reminder he was wearing black tie while the other male guests milled around in button-down shirts, dress pants, and the occasional blazer. He thought people got all dressed up for occasions like this; he was wrong. And now, he looked like an idiot. “Did you see the way your father looked at me? Like he wanted to barbecue my hide and serve me to the dogs for dinner.”
“We don’t have dogs, and no, he doesn’t.”
He slanted a glance in Kris’s direction. “Come on. He nearly broke my hand when I shook it.”
“It has more to do with me than you.” Kris, of course, looked perfect in an elegant black dress that clung to her curves and a diamond necklace that flashed beneath the lights.
Shit, Nate wished he was better at this fancy etiquette/dress code stuff. His first time meeting Kris’s father and he was already embarrassing himself.
“We’re still not talking to each other after our argument the other night,” Kris said. “And I think he’s been having issues at work. It has nothing to do with you.” At Nate’s arched eyebrow, she amended, “It doesn’t haveeverythingto do with you. He’ll come around.”
Yeah, except Kris was only here for a few more weeks, so Nate didn’t have a lot of time to improve Roger’s impression of him.
On that note, why did he care what the other man thought of him? It wasn’t like Nate was asking for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Per their deal, Kris and Nate’s relationship was going to be over at the end of the summer, and they were going to part ways, never to see each other again.
Summer romances were just that: summer romances. As in, no extensions into other seasons.
Which was fine. It wasn’t like the thought of walking away from Kris made Nate want to throw up and punch a wall or anything.
Uh-huh. Sure.
Even he didn’t believe his own bullshit—but that was a problem for another time.
For now, he had to get through the night.
“Sorry I didn’t clarify about the dress code,” Kris said sheepishly when a producer whom Nate recognized from the latest issue ofVarietypassed by and smirked at Nate’s tuxedo. “I thought…well, smart dressy can be interpreted in a lot of ways, and you look incredible in your tux.”
He grunted, only somewhat soothed by the compliment. He’d rented the tux for tonight, and he regretted spending the money. “I look like a penguin.”
“Penguins are adorable.”
Well, didn’t that make him feel better.Not.
No guy past the age of eight wanted to be called “adorable,” especially not by their girlfriend. Might as well throw him in the same category as puppies and babies in onesies.
“In your case, you look like a sexy, masculine penguin,” Kris said, almost as if she’d read his mind. “And I can’t wait to get you out of that suit later.”
