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“He did good. You look like an angel. Now, come. Let’s eat,” her father says as he leads us past a few groups of people on the way to the back of the restaurant.
A set of doors opens to a small private area with all of Charlotte’s friends around the table. As soon as we are in the room, she walks off, out of hearing distance, leaving me standing next to her father.
“She’s disappointed,” he says, studying her.
“She is,” I agree.
“Why?” he asks, turning to me.
“She thought I was proposing tonight,” I inform him.
Her father raises a brow before he replies, “Do you plan to propose to her if that’s what she wants?”
Charlotte looks over her shoulder at us and smiles before turning back to her friends.
“How would that make you feel?” I ask him, and his jaw starts to grind.
“No one is good enough for her, but she has picked you. So I have to accept that fact.”
“She has picked me, hasn’t she?” I smile at him.
Charlotte saunters back over and snuggles into my side.
“I have a surprise for you,” her father says.
My nostrils flare at his words.
It would be wrong to kill him, right?
“I bought you a holiday house.”
Of course he did.
