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It’s my massage bed I’m seeing. And it’s me I’m imagining, not her.
What the hell is wrong with me? Sure, he looks great, but a lot of guys look great. And . . .
Fuck.
I’ve stared at him a little too long. And now, he’s looking right back at me.
My stomach churns as we lock gazes. He gives me a dashing smile, raising his champagne flute in a toast.
His actions are innocent enough, but I can tell he’s thinking about my reaction to seeing him naked. Who could hate him for it? I reacted like a teenager.
“You’re welcome,” he’d said, as if he knew his dick would feature in my dreams for a while to come.
Asshole.
He looks away before I can think of anything to say or do, then focuses back on his conquest. I feel a little smug wondering how many more girls he will be able to seduce in the next days. Last I checked, Janice was still going hard at him on TikTok, and now, major news outlets were starting to pick up the story.
There’s not much more time to think about Alex, though. Harried movement at the other end of the hall catches my attention. I turn and spot my dad, dressed in a fitted suit, making his way over to the gang of distinguished gentlemen surrounding Andy Furman. I watch as Andy breaks away from his clique, and both of them make their way out of the hall and into what looks to be a small corridor.
My dad talking to the owner of the club?
My interest is officially peaked.
I slip around the room managing to draw literally noattention from anyone, not even Blake. Finally, I’m standing in front of the doorway to the corridor. I swipe a flute from a passing waiter and move as close to it as I can without arousing interest.
Their muttered voices are barely audible.
“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, David.” The words are uttered in Andy Furman’s deep drawl. “I did not want the news to run this story about Theo.”
I’m instantly disappointed. This is merely about another one of Theo’s misdemeanors. Andy Furman relies on my father to quench the small fires his son starts before the press takes notice.
“It’s no problem,” my dad says. “You know kids. You do your best with them, and they turn out . . . well, not what you’d expect.”
I raise my brows. My dad has no experience with unruly kids, considering that both Blake and I are in careers he engineered for us.
“I don’t know what to do with Theo anymore. Seems to be growing younger and more foolish, rather than the other way around.”
My dad is silent for a bit. “In my experience, I’ve found that unruly men benefit from some . . . structure.”
“He’s had plenty of that.” There’s an edge to Andy’s voice.
“No, no, no.” My dad’s voice is agitated. “What I mean is that . . . well . . . marital structure. Get him tied down with a good girl and a couple of kids, and he’ll be transformed in no time.”
“Maybe.”
“Yes,” my dad continues, sounding eager. “It can’t be just any girl though. A responsible one, someone who he can fall in love with. Who would improve him and make him look good. Makeyoulook good.”
An icy premonition creeps up my spine. Something about my dad’s words does not sit well with me.
“Yeah,” Andy says with a small titter. “Could not be a woman like his mother, that’s for sure. Woman was a damned gold-digger.”
Aversion spreads through me. I thought I disliked the Furmans well enough, but I still could not have imagined how I’d feel hearing Andy calling the mother of his son a gold-digger.
My dad does not even react to his statement.
“Yes, has to be a woman who has traditional values, you know? One who would run the home and ground Theo.” He pauses, a well-planned beat. “Like my wife, for instance. She was the best woman I’ve ever met.”
The icy feeling spreads.
