The Bride (The Boss 3)

“I don’t see why Emma couldn’t come—Christ, you look bloody fantastic,” Neil said as he stepped into the bathroom. He checked his hair in the mirror, sparing another sidelong glance at me. “If this is my birthday present, I’d like to unwrap it now.”

“And I’d like to eat. I’m starving.” I leaned over the counter and pretended to fix a lipstick smudge that wasn’t there. I really just wanted him to get a good look at my tits in the mirror.

“As much as I’d love a private evening with you, I don’t see what Emma was doing that was so much more important than her father’s fiftieth birthday,” he grumped for the billionth time that day.

“At least Rudy got the night off.” I ran my tongue over my teeth, in case I’d gotten any lipstick on them. “Shame about Valerie, though.”

“Oh, yes, I can see you’re quite torn up about her absence.” The corner of his mouth twitched. It was so cute, the way he thought he knew what was going on. Valerie would be there, as would two hundred of his closest friends and family members.

He was going to be so surprised.

As we’d planned, Emma called just as we were leaving. But unlike what we’d planned, she called me. I fumbled for my phone in my handbag, and frowned at the screen. “It’s Emma.”

When I answered, she huffed, “Tell my father that he turned off his phone again.”

I covered the mic. “Your phone is turned off.”

“Oh, right.” He reached into the pocket of his gray-tinged taupe trousers. He’d paired them with a simple eggshell white shirt with French cuff, and he carried the jacket over his shoulder. He laid it carefully over his arm as he diverted his attention to his phone.

“Do you want to talk to him?” I asked cheerfully, delighting that Emma and I were partners in our little ruse.

Oh my gosh. I was totally making a memory with Emma. With my stepdaughter. That was a little weird, but a little awesome at the same time.

“Yes, put him on.”

I gave my phone to Neil, so that he was out of hands entirely, trying to juggle his jacket and both phones. I pretended not to notice his dilemma, adjusting the belt of my short white trench coat and staring up at the opening elevator doors.

“Emma, we’re just stepping out—”

He paused, and I heard the highs and lows of Emma’s voice as a tinny rhythm from his phone’s speaker. “That’s kind of loud,” I mouthed at him, indicating my ear. Chemo may have damaged his hearing, but it wasn’t smart to ruin what was left.

He shot me a look of disapproval. “I’m sorry, Emma, what was that?” Then, after a pause, “Why doesn’t he have any money?” Another pause. “We’re supposed to meet Rudy for… Oh, bloody hell. Yes. We’ll be there. But I’m very pleased to know that you preferred to go out clubbing with Michael, rather than spend your father’s fiftieth birthday with him.”

Emma’s gently wheedling tone—the one I’d heard her use with her father on several notable occasions relating to her wedding expenses—simpered through the phone. Neil was powerless to resist.

“Fine, fine. We’ll be there in…” He checked his watch. “Probably forty minutes. Damn. No, I know, it’s not your fault. We’re on the way.”

“Is everything alright?” I feigned concern as he hung up the call.

“Only Horrible Michael stealing my daughter away to an over-priced club on the night of my birthday, and then not being able to pay for it when he does.” Neil waved Tony off and opened the door for me. He motioned to me to slide over, rather than walking around the back of the car. Then he hit the intercom, informed Tony of our change of plans, and Neil settled back in his seat like a man trying to get comfortable in an iron maiden. “Honestly, drinks and dancing on a Monday night. What kind of husband is he going to make?”

“I seem to remember someone in this car fucking his secretary until she couldn’t walk on a Tuesday night, then sending her home with no panties and expecting her

to show up for work on Wednesday morning.” I tapped my lips with one straightened index finger. “I wonder what kind of husband he’ll make.”

Neil gave me a look that warned I might not find out. It was all I could do to keep from giggling madly.

“I have to call Rudy,” he said handing my phone back.

When he reached for his, I shook my head. “No, I’ll just text him. I’ve already got the message half-typed.”

Neil’s knee bounced in agitation for the entire ride. By the time we pulled up outside of 1 OAK, he was so tense that his shoulders probably felt like phone books.

He pushed the intercom. “Tony, would you mind terribly taking this credit card inside to my daughter and her idiot fiancé?”

Shit. That was going to make my job harder. It was up to me to get him into the building.

I chewed my lip, trying to pick the perfect reason we should go in. I wouldn’t have a second shot without sounding suspicious. “Hey, I’ve never been here, and you’re the only chance I’ve got of getting in. What do you say we have one drink? Just long enough for me to say I’ve been there.”