“Wow. That’s awesome.” Angel nods slowly. “That’s totally cool.”
“No kidding. That club’s the bomb,” another man says.
“Has the best music, the best liquor and definitely the best girls.”
I study their faces, not quite believing what I’m hearing. These people are more impressed with the hookup to Tony’s club than me knowing heads of state or the fact that I’m worth a couple of billion dollars. Not that Z isn’t an amazing club, but…really?
Before they get derailed, the older man who demanded to know what else I bring to the relationship clears his throat. Given his age, he probably doesn’t go clubbing, and he probably doesn’t care about the VIP lounge. “That’s nice and all, but I’m afraid I’m not satisfied.”
“All due respect, sir, but this isn’t about your satisfaction. It’s about Jo’s.” I say it calmly, despite mounting irritation. Screw winning her family over. I’m just going to win her over. That’s going to be easier, based on their irrational reaction.
He gives me a cool look. “You’re right, but as her father, I believe I deserve to have some say.”
Damn it. If I’d known he was her dad… But now it’s too late. All I can do is maintain control and try to salvage the situation.
“Of course you do,” I say, keeping my voice extra smooth.
“I want a man who loves Jo and is going to treat her right, not someone who just has some money and connections. That club isn’t even yours.”
“No, sir, it isn’t.” I direct all my focus on him. He’s the one whose feathers I need to unruffle to move forward. According to Yuna, Jo adores her dad, and if he objects to me, she’s going to use that to deflect me. She already ran out on me once. Actually twice if I count the night we made a baby together.
“Do you love her?” His voice is quiet, but no less strong for it.
Hell of a question to field in front of audience. It isn’t something I thought I’d be expected to answer. In my experience, people don’t ask such questions. They want to know about social status, how the families’ lives would change for the better after the marriage. For God’s sake, they’d be considering prenups and which high-priced attorney they should hire to draft them.
Her dad quirks an eyebrow at me, a silent challenge.
What I’m feeling for Jo is novel in its intensity, but I know for a fact it isn’t love. I haven’t experienced any impairment in judgment. My overriding concerns revolve around ensuring she’s safe and that she and our baby are provided for. Acceptable and worthy wishes for any responsible father-to-be.
Although lying might help in the short run, I have no desire to deceive anybody. I’ve seen lies—no matter how small and innocent at first—beget more lies and destroy everything.
I keep my eyes on the man. “No, sir.”
Jo’s dad’s eyebrows pinch together. He looks displeased…and disappointed. Did he want me to lie?
“I thought not,” he says finally, then sighs. “Otherwise you would’ve said you loved her before you mentioned your money and network.”
He seems let down by my honesty, which isn’t unusual. I’ve disappointed lots of people by giving them straight answers—turning down their proposals, rejecting their ideas and so forth. That’s never bothered me, but Jo’s dad’s reaction does.
I don’t often feel a need to explain, but I’m compelled to defend myself in this case. I’m not the bastard here. “I thought you deserved the truth.”
“I do.” Then he turns to Jo. “And you… You aren’t in love with him, are you?”
She looks up from the guacamole bowl. “No, of course not,” she says, like it’s a foregone conclusion.
Her answer should thrill me. There’s nothing more tedious than a woman who thinks she’s in love and becomes needy. Besides, I would prefer a wife who’s capable of having clear thoughts and good judgment. And how is Jo going to be that if her mind is clouded by love?
A painful pang pierces my gut, forcing me to place a hand over it.
What could’ve brought that on?
Perhaps it’s indigestion. I haven’t eaten anything odd, but sometimes stress can do it. And I have been under a lot of stress. The situation at Blackwood Energy, Dad dating Mom again, and Jo’s pregnancy… More than enough.
“Well, that settles it,” the woman in the Manny’s Tacos T-shirt says.
“Absolutely.” Daffy Duck Tie nods, his mouth grim.
“It looks like you’re hungry.” The taco T-shirt woman’s eyes are on the hand I’m holding over my stomach. “You can sit down and join us. We’ll put an empty chair there.” She gestures at a spot far from Jo, which I’m quite certain is no accident. “It’s dinnertime, after all.”