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“You have a hickey on your neck, Eden.”
I clapped my hand quickly against my neck. “I what?”
And when my sister smirked, I knew I was done for. “Funny. You knew exactly where to put your hand.”
“Eden, it’s not what you--”
“I won’t press you any longer about it. I’m just glad you’re taking time for yourself.”
Yeah, maybe when I’m done bailing you out of your shit. “Thanks.”
She giggled like a damn schoolgirl. “Anyway, when you’re ready to talk, I’m ready for all of the juicy details. But I gotta get out of here. Dinner Wednesday night, like always?”
I nodded. “Like always.”
“Good. Love you!”
“Love you, too.”
The second she closed my office door behind her, I fell back into my seat. I breathed a heavy sigh, wondering how long I’d be able to keep up this fucking charade. Taking time for myself? What a fucking crock of shit. All I did was expend myself for others in order to bail them out of trouble. I’d made it my fucking career, for crying out loud. But, when I stripped everything away, I wasn’t angry with my sister. It wasn’t her fault, what happened at that banquet.
It was Dominik’s fault for exploiting a situation for his own benefit.
“Oh, and one more thing,” my sister said as she whipped my door open.
I jumped at the sound. “Good God!”
She blinked. “You okay?”
I scoffed. “Not when you slam my damn door open like that, I’m not. What is it?”
She eyed me carefully. “Don’t forget about Dad’s birthday party Friday night.”
Oh. Holy. Fuck. “How could I forget?”
“You sure about that statement?”
“Emily, we’ve been planning it for weeks. I haven’t forgotten.”
She pointed at me. “Good. I won’t be explaining to Dad that you’re working during his damn party, all right? Show up.”
“I’m going to show up. I promise.”
She smiled. “Okay. See you Wednesday night. We can finalize things then.”
I did my best to blink back tears. “Can’t wait.”
As she closed the door, I flopped back against my plush leather chair. Part of me thought about emailing Dominik and telling him that he could get fucked. I was honestly expected to miss my father’s fifty-fourth birthday just because he wanted to get his dick wet?
“Fuck him and the horse he rode in on,” I murmured to myself.
I navigated to my email and pulled up the itinerary he had graced me with late last night. I typed and retyped the email, trying to find the best way to put everything so that he had no choice but to let me off the hook just this once. I mean, what the hell was the issue with backing the trip up a weekend? Surely, he had parents that were alive that didn’t hate his guts.
I leaned back and read the email aloud a few times before hitting send.
Mr. Drake,
My father’s birthday is Friday evening. My sister and I have been planning this for weeks. I can’t just not show up. Any chance we could leave after the party? I’d only need an hour or so, just to show up.
- Eden.
And while I hadn’t expected much from the man, I had no idea I could possibly hate him any more than I already did.
That is, until his response rolled through just after lunch.
Eden,
I’ve spoken with Jackson. He’s going in your place Friday evening. You’ll be sick. See you at the tarmac at five.
-D. Drake.
