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I wave the Rock of Gibraltar at him and grin. “Exhibit A.”
He frowns, and my smile dims.
“Papa, I know you don’t like him—”
“I don’t trust him,” Joe says firmly. “There are many reasons why a man would want to marry you. He may be rich, but money is not the only thing a man might be after.”
I stare at him silently as they deliver our mains.
Little does he know, it was me who asked Connor to marry me, but my father’s words have planted a seed of doubt.
What would Connor want?
“Just think about it, Mia. If you believe he is the man you want to spend your life with, then I will accept it. And then we must discuss the venue. You will marry at home. It was your mother’s wish. And I know it is yours.”
I sigh.
I’m sure momma would be ashamed of me if she knew what I was doing, and as I take my third large gulp of my wine—there goes my plan to only drink half—I know I have to do as my father asks.
With choice comes consequences.
Perhaps by July, Connor will fall in love with me, and this will all be a funny story we never tell another soul. A crazy romantic story about how we met and fell in love.
Or I’ll be nursing a broken heart, while he cashes my one-point-five-million-dollar check and waves me farewell.
I take another sip.
What am I doing?
27
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CONNOR
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