Dump and Chase (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 1)

“Ugh!”

When I hear someone rushing up behind me, I pray it’s not Aiden. But when I see it’s my dad, I kind of wish it were Aiden. “Not right now, Dad.”

He takes ahold of my arm, stopping me. “I’m gonna give you some unsolicited advice—”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

He smiles, his blue eyes tender as he cups my face. “I know you don’t want to hear this. But the truth is, baby, a long-lasting relationship comes with a lot of forgiveness and understanding.”

I just blink up at him. “You want me to forgive him?”

“Yes, and I want you to acknowledge that it was a misunderstanding.”

I’m flabbergasted. “You? You’re the one telling me this?” I shake my head. “What happened to killing him?”

“He loves you, Shelli. I know that. And to be honest, after everything we talked about last night, I can see he’s wrecked by this.” I look away, the tears burning my eyes.

“Last night?”

“Yeah, Lucas and I went over to make sure he was okay. And baby, he isn’t.” I shake my head as he squeezes my wrist. “All that in there was your mother and Fallon. Lucas and I had no part in it, but I do agree that you need to talk to Aiden. Really talk to him.”

I chew on my lip and then slowly nod. “I can’t right now.”

And at this moment, I don’t know when I’ll be ready to.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Shelli

I want to be proud of what I’ve done here.

The arena is decorated like the 1920s with an awesome Great Gatsby theme. Usually, my mom’s themes are something purple, but I wanted to go bigger. While purple is the main color of the décor to honor our Assassins Foundation, I added sparkly golds and blacks to tie everything together. Lights, pearls, and feathers hang above us, while the tables are decorated with plumes of feathers and glitz. Flapper girls are walking around with champagne since there is no smoking, but I don’t think anyone minds. Especially when the Gatsby-era jazz band I hired is killing it. They’re freaking great, even if Aiden was the one to choose them.

I ignore that fact and try to smile at everyone as they enjoy themselves. Thankfully, the players were supportive of my request and are wearing the time-period-specific outfits I had ordered. I had their vests made with the Assassins logo and their numbers on the pocket. The vests are being auctioned off at the end of the night to fund the addition of a rec hall in the facility we’re building for the veterans.

All the guests came dressed to the nines, and the photo booth is a huge hit. Along with taking pictures with the players, everyone seems pretty happy. People are bidding on the auction items and eating the wonderful food from Brooks House. We’ve already raised so much money, and the night is just getting started. It’s all perfection, everything I wanted it to be. Yet I feel like utter shit.

I’d thought getting my hair done in a Roaring Twenties do, along with some fierce makeup, would have made me feel a lot better. It didn’t. Especially when I had to put on my dress for the night. The dress Aiden had given to me. Of course, it has a sexy, plunging neckline with a scrap of tasteful sheer fabric in place to shield my breasts. The gold material hugs my body in all the right ways, stopping at midcalf. He bought me a thick strand of pearls to go with it, and the feather headpiece he picked out brings the whole outfit together. The only thing he didn’t get me are my sparkly gold heels, but when I bought them, I’d picked them out just for him. The higher, the better is his motto.

A little grin pulls at my lips.

I miss him.

I stand by the stage as I people-watch. I haven’t spoken to anyone, really. Only to give people direction on how to do their jobs and then to tell them to schmooze the folks with deep pockets. It’s gone well for me, but I’m a bundle of nerves. This has to be a success. I can’t leave for New York without having my name shine in this arena.

That’s not the only reason I’m nervous, though. My stomach has been in knots since I arrived. I haven’t seen him yet, but I know he’s here. I can feel him here. All day, I thought about what my dad said. He’s right; forgiveness and understanding are huge factors in a long-lasting relationship. If my mom hadn’t forgiven my dad, or the other way around, they wouldn’t be together. Same with Fallon and Lucas.

“This party is stunning, baby.”

I look over at my mom, and she’s dressed up perfectly. Instead of a flapper dress, though, she’s wearing a billowing white floor-length gown. She is dripping with diamonds, and she looks as if she belongs in a film rather than at my party.