“Thank you,” I murmur, since Hunter didn’t think to.
The server—who reminds me so much of Jeeves from the show Mom and I watch, I’m tempted to try to get a sneaky picture—gives me a tepid, close-lipped smile.
“I wish I could’ve brought my mom to this,” I tell Hunter as I take a sip of my champagne.
“Maybe next year I can get a couple of extra invitations.”
Next year.
He says it so naturally, like it’s a given that I’ll come to this with him every year for the rest of our lives.
I suppose since he’s shown me my options for my wedding tiara, I shouldn’t be surprised.
It still feels a little crazy.
I continue to look around the great hall as I finish my first glass of champagne. It went down so smoothly, I finished it faster than I meant to.
As we get the lay of the land, Hunter looks around for his father, but I follow the trail of people who seem to know where they’re supposed to be going.
After coat check, some of them linger and drink champagne or talk to friends, but most people seem to be ascending the marble staircase and heading to the upper levels.
Hunter and I decide to go upstairs, too. There’s a literal red carpet on the marble staircase. The older woman ahead of me is wearing white gloves.
I’m wearing a ballgown, but I still feel like I stick out like a sore thumb among this set.
When we reach the floor we’re supposed to be on, it becomes immediately clear. There are flags on display to represent three different countries, and two very regal-looking men standing on the staircase greeting guests on either side.
“Is that your dad?”
Hunter nods. “The better-looking one is,” he jests, but not really. “The other guy’s his cousin. This will probably just be a quick hello, he’ll have to keep the line moving.”
“Oh, God, I’m so nervous,” I tell him.
His grip on me tightens protectively. “Don’t be.”
Despite his advisement not to worry, my heart thrums furiously in my chest as the couple in front of us finishes up their greeting.
Butterflies fill my stomach as Hunter puts a hand on the small of my back and gently pushes me forward.
My feet don’t want to move. I hope I don’t look as nervous as I feel as I force myself to smile and move forward.
Hunter’s dad smiles as he looks from Hunter to me, his demeanor friendly.
“Hunter, so good to see you,” he says, wrapping an arm around his son and giving him a brief hug and pat on the back.
My heart fills up, but I’m not sure why. I don’t feel like I’m meeting a “big deal,” I feel like I’m meeting my boyfriend’s long lost dad, and that’s a little less intimidating.
Hunter takes a step back and gestures to me. “This is my girlfriend, Riley Bishop.”
His dad takes my hand between his and pulls me forward. “Riley. Splendid to meet you. Hunter has told me so much about you.”
That makes me grin. “Has he? All good things, I hope.”
“Only the best,” he says warmly, pulling me in for a hug.
My tummy flutters. I hug him back, then move to stand beside Hunter with a big, stupid grin on my face.
As Hunter predicted, his dad can only speak to us for a moment since he has more guests to greet behind us, but I still can’t stop grinning as Hunter takes my hand and leads me toward the ballroom entrance.
“He likes me! Your dad likes me,” I tell him, beaming.
Hunter shakes his head, amused by my excitement. “I told you he would.”
I’m still so hyped up, I turn to steal one last look at Hunter’s father before we enter the ballroom, but when I do, my attention is snagged by a pair of predatory blue eyes that are not only locked on me, but narrowed in careful consideration.
My heart leaps in my chest. The man staring back can’t be much older than me and Hunter. I didn’t realize how close he was behind us. I thought nothing of what I said to Hunter, but now, as the handsome stranger carefully regards me, then lets his speculative gaze drift to Hunter, I realize…
He may have just heard me refer to Hunter’s dad as… well, Hunter’s dad.
My smile disappears.
The intense look drops off the man’s face, replaced with what should appear to the world as a friendly smile, but as he turns to be greeted by Hunter’s dad, I can’t keep my stomach from rocking with dread.
I should be buzzing with excitement as we enter the opulent ballroom. It’s a magnificent space, truly incomparable. The ceilings are painted beautifully as if we’ve just stepped inside the Sistine Chapel. The room is massive and well-decorated, similarly to if there was a wedding. Round tables with immaculate centerpieces are set up around the perimeter of a dance floor. There’s a massive Christmas tree in the corner, and a seated orchestra performing live music.