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He’d never been the world’s most observantfather.
When Zane and I walked into the penthouse suite, that fact was made abundantly clear. Not only had Dizzy bought into our little charade, he’d bought into it so hard, it had inspired him to do something totally out of character. Somethingthoughtful.
He’d put his staff to work for us, bigtime.
The big double doors leading into the master bedroom stood open. Red and white rose petals had been scattered along the floor, leading a trail up the three stairs into the room and straight to the massive bed. The bed had been covered with a fluffy white duvet, turned down to reveal white satin sheets. Giant bouquets of exotic flowers burst from vases set atop every available surface. There was a fruit tray and chocolate truffles and fresh oysters on ice. And a card, which I opened. It was signed in a hand that wasn’t mydad’s.
With my deepest blessings.Dizzy.
What a fucking tool. Like I gave two shits about hisblessings.
I passed the card to Zane. He scanned it and tossed itaside.
Dizzy had never done anything like this for me before. Not when I graduated high school or college, not when Dirty hired me, not when I bought my first home. Nothing I’d ever done had warranted more than an absent “Good for you, sweetheart” when we’d spoken over the phone. Which was how I knew this had exactly zero to do withme.
This little display was forZane.
Correction; actually, it was for Dizzy himself. To make him look like father of the year in the eyes of my new rock starhusband.
Good luck with that,Dad.
Oh, and there was more champagne. Because that’s just what I needed; morebooze.
I stumbled a little as Zane let me go. He’d kept his arm around my waist all the way up to the room, and he eyed me warily as I got my footing. Whatever. My high heels werehigh. Yes, I’d had a bit to drink while we were out. Maybe a bit too much. But who could blame me? I’d just gotten pretend-married on a moment’s notice to Zane in front of my dad, who thought it wasreal.
Obviously I understood why Zane was going dry, but I wasn’t the one with the drinking problem. So why should I suffer through a night with Dizzysober?
In the limo, it was Zane himself who’d handed me a flute of bubbly. I had no idea if my dad had a clue that Zane didn’t drink. Zane just passed politely on the liquor, and no one seemed to care. Zane didn’t bat an eye as I sipped the champagne, and honestly… maybe I did it to force some distance betweenus.
He said he didn’t do chicks who’d been drinking. What better way to ensure he wouldn’t try to feel me up when we got back to the hotel than getting a little buzzon?
I watched him take off his vest and kick off his boots. I still had the bouquet of tulips he’d given me, which had miraculously survived our bar-hopping. I went to put the flowers in a jug of water in the kitchen, avoiding his eyes, and told myself not to feel guilty for being a littleinebriated.
This wasn’tactuallyour weddingnight.
Yes, it felt weird drinking in front of Zane. At least, for the first couple of drinks. But we were in and out of so many bars tonight and people were indulging all around us. What difference could it make if I had afew?
It was Zane who’d convinced me to do body shots off a waitress. That was at the strip club Dizzy decided we should hit. It was also Zane who bought me a lap dance. From a chick, which wasn’t exactly my thing. She took us into one of the private rooms and I endured it for about a minute, because it made Zane laugh. But then I decided it would be a hell of a lot more fun making her sit in the chair and teach me some moves. And damn, did I ever work my tiny pinkdress.
At least, it was fun until I remembered my dad was on the other side of that sameroom.
Luckily he was making out with Maxxi at the time, so he missed my little performance. Zane, on the other hand, didn’t miss a thing. He even tipped me afterward. Also kindafun.
But standing there in a private room in some strip club with my dad while Zane stuffed cash into my lace panties, I decided it was well past time to call it a night. This night was already fucking weird enough. Didn’t think I could handle it getting anyweirder.
I’d spent the ride back to the hotel quietly sipping a bottle of water and wondering why I’d let myself drink somuch.
Maybe I’d been more nervous about this whole crazy thing than I’d let on… even tomyself.
Still, I’d somehow managed to rationalize the booze, just like everything else, as harmless enough fun—until I stepped back out of the kitchen with my bouquet and looked up to see the weird-ass expression on Zane’sface.
We stood there, awkwardly, on opposite sides of the room, staring in at the giant bed all decked out for a night of matrimonialbliss.
“If you want the big bed with the satin sheets you can take it,” he said. He’d turned to look at me, and I could not for the life of me read the look in his blue eyes. “I’ll take the other one. Whatever youwant.”
I blinked at him and set the flowers on a table, wobbling a little in my high heels. WhateverIwanted?
What thefuck?
