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Dizzy was happy, sure. Forhimself.
I sighed, because yes, I’d seen the look. Not a look I could recall ever seeing on my dad’s face. Pretty sure it waspride.
Lukewarm approval was about the closest I’d ever seen before, and that was years ago, when I’d first told him I’d been hired to work for Dirty. At the time, he’d been a lot less interested in the particulars of my job than in what name I’d be using for work; he was royally pissed when I told him I’d be continuing to use my stepdad’s last name, Omura, instead of his. Dizzy was adamant that having his last name would open doors for me in the industry, but I wasn’tthatnaive. I knew he was more interested in what doors might open forhimif he could associate himself in any way withDirty.
For a moment, I allowed myself to wonder what he’d think when he found out I wasn’t taking Zane’s last name either. He’d probably say that was a mistake, too. Good thing I didn’t care what he thought,right?
Except that I did care. Hence this whole ridiculousfarce.
Yeah, I really had to do something about this fucked-up little masochistic streak of mine. Startingtomorrow.
“I saw it,” I murmured distractedly, as we watched my dad making a flashy, embarrassing spectacle of tipping the chapelstaff.
“Should we rescue them or what?” Zane asked, flicking his chin at the staff. They’d been pretty much trapped by Dizzy, who was waving a fistful of cash around as he told them some bullshit story about whatever great thing he figured he’d done most recently. Dizzy had a bullshit story for every occasion. Especially when he’d beenusing.
“No,” I said, but I appreciated Zane deferring to me on this. No one could really “handle” my dad, but after the years I’d spent working with Dirty, I had a knack for knowing when to step back and let the biggest ego in the room have the floor. “Just let him have hismoment.”
For fuck’s sake, though. You’d thinkhewas the one who’d just gotten married. I just hoped he wasn’t beingrude.
The chapel staff had been incredibly accommodating, and my suspicion that Zane had paid them to shut down for us had been confirmed—by my dad, at his first opportunity. It was grotesquely clear to me by now that in his eyes, the fact that I’d just married a man who had the cash, the influence, and the balls to do that kind of thing meant I’d won the husband lottery. In fact, he’d warmed up extremely fast to the idea that I was marrying someone who, in his mind, was a lot like him. This, evidenced by the fact that he’d used the phrase “Zane and I…” to start about every second sentence he’d uttered since we left thehotel.
As in,Zane and I would’ve preferred you in a white dress,Maggie.
And soon.
Which just got methinking…
I eyed my dad and tried as hard as I could to see himobjectively.
The frizzy, bleached-out hair, all scraggly and black at the roots. The grossly tight jeans. The studded boots, the many necklaces and the earrings. The sleeveless Harley-Davidson shirt that showed his overly-tanned arms, now the texture of jerky; the tattoo of a voluptuous girl busting out of a bikini on his rightbicep.
It all used to look so badass when he was younger. I could remember thinking he was just so cool. He’d flitted in and out of my life, and he always had some magical excuse for it. He was like a superhero to methen.
But now I was grown-up, and Dizzy was justridiculous.
This was an extremely wealthy man who’d never treated his own daughter with much respect, forget about genuine affection or love. And now he was alone, clinging so desperately to his stoned-out youth that he was screwing chicks who were younger than his daughter and probably had daddy issues of theirown.
I just hoped this one waslegal.
Shit.
Was Zane gonna end up just like my dad in thirtyyears?
Didn’t matter, I realized. I wasn’t going to be married to him thatlong.
I wasn’t going to be married to him atall.
Sure, I’d said my vows and signed the papers and went through the motions. I’d “married” Zane in a super tacky all-night wedding chapel in Las Vegas, in front of my dad and some girl named Maxxi. Yeah, that’s with two x’s. She spelled it forme.
It couldn’t have been any more ridiculous, but apparently Dizzy had bought it. Bigtime.
Other than Zane being pretty sweet about the whole thing, it was kind of humiliating. I just couldn’t decide if it was more humiliating for me or for mydad.
Zane’s hand dropped to my ass and he gave my cheek a squeeze. He’d done that about ten times since we’d arrived. I didn’t mind. It was pathetic to me, and incredibly hurtful, that my dad thought more of the man I was marrying than he did of me, and his comments in the hotel bar tonight still stung. If this was what it took for him to finally dredge up a modicum of respect for me, then so be it. I wanted him to see my new husband all over me, and for his part, Zane was taking every advantage of theopportunity.
“Get your sweet ass in the limo, wife,” he said, his smoky voice all kinds of suggestive. Then he nipped my neck with his teeth. “It’s time tocelebrate.”
“We are not celebrating,” I said coolly, trying to stave off the shiver that pricked its way down my spine. Zane’s idea of “celebrating” was bound to involve his dick in my pussy, and despite the fact that I’d been glued to his side for the last hour, I was not down withthat.
