The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

Instead, my father had upstaged him.

The partygoers clapped politely, and a few even murmured out their congratulations.

“Are you making Damon pay for the wedding?” someone asked loudly as a joke. Or maybe they were serious, it was impossible to tell. Some people laughed genuinely, and others did it to cover their unease with the situation, but any humor died when my father’s intense glare landed on the man who’d asked the question.

If looks could kill, that guy would have been vaporized.

The irritation drained off my father’s face, and it returned to the cold, superior look he usually held. “Thank you.”

He dropped the knife off at the table he’d borrowed it from and carried his champagne as he strode back to Sophia’s side. I wasn’t surprised when he passed his glass off to her because my father didn’t drink.

I made my way over to them, but basically had to get in line. Evangeline Gabbart was the first to approach and gave them both a hug, and I watched with comical fascination as my father accepted it. They’d ‘dated’ briefly before he’d started seeing Sophia, but I knew better, and this stilted hug was further proof their relationship had been all for show.

When she moved on, I worked my way forward and thrust my hand toward my father. “Congratulations.”

His grip was firm, but his smile was genuine and pleased. “Thank you. I regret I didn’t get a chance to tell you before the announcement.”

Because he’d called me twice today and I’d pushed them both to voicemail. I had too much to focus on this afternoon. I waved a hand, brushing his comment off. “It’s okay. I knew you were planning it. You caught Damon by surprise, though,” my tone went sardonic, “so I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you didn’t ask his permission.”

Tradition was everything to us Hales, and I wondered if this had been a hard one for him to forego.

“No, I asked Stephen Alby,” he said.

This was news to Sophia, and she looked up at him in surprise. “You did?”

His face contorted. “I didn’t necessarily ask. I may have just informed him of my plans.”

She gave a short laugh and shook her head, as if saying, “classic Macalister behavior.”

“Well, nice work on the announcement,” I said, “and shaming Damon.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Only the evil victory lurking in my father’s eyes said otherwise.

Dinner was served shortly after that, and I barely touched my food. My fingers itched to text Emery and see how she was doing, but I resisted the urge. Her empty seat beside me at the large, round table didn’t help. Anxiety grew and weighed me down like a stone as time dragged on and there was no word from her.

“Is everything okay?” Marist asked me in a low voice when dessert was served. She was seated beside me. “You’ve checked your watch at least ten times in the last ten minutes.”

I struggled to find a convincing lie, and so instead I went with the truth. “I’m worried about Emery.”

She abruptly grabbed Royce’s hand and put it on her belly. The baby was kicking, and it was surreal to see the grin break out on my brother’s face. He was going to be a father soon. Didn’t that scare the shit out of him?

Marist’s attention went back to me. “Dinner’s almost over. You could go check on her.”

“Yeah, I think I will.” I kept my tone steady, even though a swarm of bees were trapped in my stomach. We were rapidly approaching the safety threshold we’d set. Once dinner was over, the party could rapidly thin out and it would be obvious when I was missing.

My phone vibrated with a text, and I hurried to check the screen.

Emery: I’m still not feeling well. We might need to leave.

My heart dropped to the floor. This was her way of telling me she didn’t have the safe unlocked yet.

Me: I’m on my way.

Maybe I said goodbye to my family, but my focus was scattered as I got up from the table and headed up the path toward the house. The guy in charge of keeping the guests out of the house remembered me and waved me up the stairs when I asked.

I didn’t know where Emery was, and both bedroom doors were shut. It was possible she’d slipped back in the guest room to wait for me, but I hoped not. If there was any way I could help her—shit—I was going to try.

My thought was I’d go straight for Wayne and Serena’s bedroom, and if anyone saw, I could claim confusion about which door I was looking for. But it didn’t sound like there was anyone on this floor besides us. I hurried through the door, shutting it behind me, and then surveyed the room.